Page 91 of The Devil's Trials
My brows lift. “Like theAvengerscharacter?”
Laughing softly, she shakes her head. “Try forty years earlier. Hawkeye was the captain inM*A*S*H.”
“Well, he’s adorable. The dog, I mean.” I stand, hugging my mom. “It’s good to see you.”
She squeezes me back. “You too, honey.” When we lean apart, she asks, “How was the flight?”
“Good. Harper picked me up.”
Mom nods, and we move into the living room to the right of the entryway, where a steady flame fills the gray stone fireplace, heating the small space. “I didn’t make anything for dinner because I didn’t know when you’d arrive, or if your flight would be delayed, and I figured you’d want to go out with Harper.”
“That’s okay,” I insist, feeling a little out of bounds with this conversation. I’ve never been incredibly close with my mom—less so after Danielle died—but seeing her out of her element too brings me some comfort. We’re navigating this new chapter of our mother-daughter relationship together, and it might be uncomfortable at times, but I find I’m grateful for it.
We sit on opposite ends of the couch, while Hawkeye curls up on the floor at Mom’s feet.
“How are things?” she asks, a little hesitant.
I shrug. “Complicated, but that’s nothing new. Training has been the single most humbling experience of my life. I didn’t realize a person could be so out of shape, but I sure as hell am.”
The warmth from the fireplace contrasts the look on her face, and my stomach sinks when she sighs. I’ve heard that sound many times before. She’s disappointed.
“I’ve spoken with Noah several times since you went to New York.”
I fight a cringe as my stomach drops at the thought. It doesn’t surprise me, but I say, “Oh?”
“He’s concerned you’re not as far along in training as you should be. I am as well after learning you didn’t pass your first test.”
Well, shit. So, she does know. I guess the silver lining here is that I don’t have to tell her myself.
My brows slam down, and I clench my jaw. “I don’t suppose he told you about me kicking his ass in training yesterday?”
She shakes her head. “That’s good to hear, but my concern stands.” Her tense expression doesn’t fade. “If you don’t pass your next test, you’ll be dismissed from the training program.”
I know that, I want to snap but instead I just blink at her. This is just about the last conversation I expected to be having. I also hate the burning in my eyes and the growing pit in my stomach. I wouldn’t have cared about this a month ago, but now…
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Work harder,” she offers. “Train more. You deferred school to focus on training, but it doesn’t sound like you’re dedicating enough time to it. I know you can do better than this, Camille.”
I swallow, forcing down the lump in my throat. “Okay, well thanks for the vote of confidence?” I sit back on the couch, exhaling a sigh.
Mom leans over and pats my knee. “Talk to Noah. He’s your mentor and wants to help you succeed in the program.”
“Is that why he told you about how miserably I’m failing?”
She frowns. “He was worried it would chase you away from training if he tried to talk to you about it.”
I scowl at that.
“Can you blame him?”
Instead of responding to her question, I say, “I’ll talk to him when I get back to New York.” A pit forms in my stomach at the thought of that conversation, and I immediately recoil from it.
Mom nods. “Will you be here long?”
I press my lips together, shrugging. “I haven’t really decided.” I startle when the dog shifts on the floor, forgetting he was there.
She chuckles, moving to pet his head.
