Dylan offered a small nod as we approached, though her focus was mostly on Amara, who still looked pale and shaky—like a wave might knock her over if she weren’t leaning on Dylan’s arm. The flicker of overhead lanterns revealed a faint sheen of sweat on her brow.
“Dylan,” Maxine began quietly, glancing around to ensure no one else was eavesdropping, “you need to get Amara somewhere safe. Away from all of this.”
Amara herself waved to catch our attention and signed something furiously.
“I’mright here.” She also spoke aloud, soft but steely. “And that’s the plan. I’ll be staying with Ursula until this whole thing blows over.”
“Right, right. Sorry about that.” Maxine’s lips curved in a rueful smile. “But that’s good. The last thing we need is Gregor or my family getting any ideas about…” She trailed off, not wanting to sayvulnerabilitiesoutright.
Instead, she touched Dylan’s arm gently. “Just keep her safe, okay?”
Maxine had explained Amara’s predicament to me earlier, whispering over my shoulder when I’d noticed the sickly-looking woman. And sure, she looked like death warmed up, but there was a fire in Amara’s eyes that told me she was nowhere near as fragile as they thought she was.
Amara rolled her eyes, shifting her weight onto one hip as she studied the two of us.
Then she zeroed in on me with a wry, tired grin. “Leah, was it?” she asked, enunciating slowly. “Tell me—how the hell do you handle more than five minutes of Maxine at a time?”
I bit back a startled laugh, heat rushing to my cheeks. Beside me, Maxine made a noise of deep, theatrical mortification, throwing an arm across her forehead as though she’d been gravely insulted.
Amara’s brow arched, looking unimpressed by the display.
I shrugged, fighting a smile. “Honestly? I’ve had plenty of practice.”
A chorus of silent chuckles passed through Dylan—her shoulders shaking and the corners of her mouth quirked up in amusement.
Maxine scowled, tossing curls over her shoulder and sticking her nose in the air. “You’re all terrible.”
Once our unlikely group had fully dispersed, I followed Maxine into the small study River had pointed out. The place was tiny and just as cluttered as the rest of River’s home, and an ancient telephone sat collecting dust on the oakwood desk.
Maxine stood with her back to me, one hand braced on the desk, her shoulders hunched and tense.
She had the receiver clutched tightly in her other hand, staring down at it. I could sense her fear in the tight set of her spine, the quick rise and fall of her breath.
“Hey,” I said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder.
She turned, and I caught a glimpse of pure dread on her face before she tried—and failed—to school her features into that calm and collected mask of hers.
“Leah,” she whispered. “I—I thought I could do this, but…” Her voice faltered.
I slipped my arms around her waist, heartstrings plucking at how she trembled ever so slightly under my touch. She exhaled a shaky breath, leaning into me. For a moment, we just stood there, the koi pond’s gentle trickle the only sound breaking the silence.
My heart clenched at the realization of just how terrified she was—terrified of what she was about to do, of the fallout that might erupt from simply calling her parents after all this time.
“You’re not alone.” I pulled back to meet her eyes, laying a hand against her cheek. “This time, whatever happens, we face it together.”
“I’m just… scared.” Her eyes flicked shut, tears pearling at the corners. “And Gregor. He– he’s–”
“Forget about Gregor,” I murmured, pressing my forehead against hers. “We won’t let any of them separate us again. Never again.”
She inhaled slowly, and I captured that breath with a gentle kiss. When we drew apart, Maxine’s eyes were brighter, her posture less rigid. She squared her shoulders, the phone still in her grip.
“All right,” she whispered, casting a quick glance toward the doorway to ensure we were alone. “I can do this.”
I smiled and gave her hand a final squeeze. “You can do this.”
Maxine exhaled one final, trembling breath and dialed the number.
The soft ringing echoed in the hush of River’s house, and I pressed myself closer to her side, silently vowing that no matter who answered, no matter what lay ahead, she wasn’t going to face it alone.