Page 41 of Pieces of Halves

“I’m okay.” She looks up and smiles at me. “I saw someOenothera lindheimeriin the rose garden earlier. I wanted to go look at them,” she says, keeping her lips stretched wide across her face.

Bringing my brows together, I stare at her.Oeno… what?She spoke of flowers in these difficult and fancy terms when I first met her. It was strange – still is – but it feels like she’s hiding behind her knowledge.

“Are those flowers?” I keep holding her close to me, afraid that if I let go, I will lose her.

“They are. Pretty white, little bells.”She keeps her happy composure, but her eyes shimmer with agony.

My chest tightens because I don’t know what to do.

“Can I come with you?” I run my thumb along her cheek.

“Of course.” Her lips stretch out a little too wide.

It hurts when she pretends like this.

We walk in silence through the white wooden patio, the birds chirping, and the sun providing soothing warmth. She moves energetically, but it’s all for show.

Surrounded by red and pink roses, she kneels in front of a small white flower, four of its petals open and spread out sparsely. Running her finger against it, she plays with the thin spindles at the center of the bloom.

“They are pretty,” she mumbles, her voice breaking.

I get down to sit with her, my gaze never leaving her face, waiting for her to tell me what is on her mind. She doesn’t say anything. A butterfly flutters past her, and she follows its path, her eyes wide in awe. She is so easily distracted when she is pushing away her hurt. I wonder if focusing on something besides the hurt helps make it go away.

I’ll keep you safe.I want her to know that.

“Not as pretty as you,” I whisper and take her hand into mine.

“Did you know that they can survive long periods of drought?” she asks, her voice quiet as she holds the petals between her fingers.

“Izzy…” I call her name.

The distance she’s creating physically hurts.

“I’m okay.” She finally looks at me, her bright green eyes covered with a watery shimmer.

You are not okay.

Plucking the white flower, she tucks it behind my ear, her fingers softly brushing against my skin. I watch her, wishing there was something I could do to make it better.

“We know where your mother is now. You are so close to your answers.” She holds my cheek, her gaze tender.

A lump is stuck in my throat.

“Yes.” I clear my throat.

Taking a shallow breath, I stare at her, fighting the urge to engulf her in my arms.

Monsters.

Chapter Seventeen

ISABELLA

s I lay next to Jacob, there is a weight on my chest that will not let me breathe. It’s a familiar one where evil monsters come after me. They are right there, just around the corner, ready to attack as soon as I close my eyes.

My father found me. This will never end. No matter where I go, he will always track me down. Someone has to die to stop this. Maybe it’s my father or Sofia – or maybe it’s me.

My father wants me back in return for Jacob’s mother. Everyone seems convinced that they could get her back alive. They need her to live long enough to find her followers. It is not fair for me to stand in the way of that.

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