Page 27 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn
His proclamation to murder me hardly phases me—I’m quite used to, and expect many to take me down if they ever saw it as a benefit. One thing I note is that his passion for my death hits as deep as his words for Cypress. So, he speaks the truth about the witch, then? “How do you feel about Cypress if she was manipulating you? Why did you ever trust her?”
“I am kin, and shealwayssaves her kin. Even if she fucks us over, she’ll keep our hearts beating. And I wasn’t ready to die. Nora—” he pauses, as if he can backtrack. But he has to know I read him just now—he grieves herstill. “Would want me to live as long as possible to keep an eye on Jane. Even if she never saw my face again. Nora would want Jane to be safe.Trulysafe.”
I lean forward to place my elbows on my knees. “Tell me everything, Ritter. Let me do what I do best, which is piece things together. If we both want out of here with as little carnage inflicted upon us as possible, I need to know itall.”
It’s odd to negotiate with him as if we are allies. Then again, is it really? We are both Zenith. His daughter is my charge now, especially if I want my sister back, let alone how I feel about her.
Thisiswhat I do among our little Council.
That changes something in him, justbarelysoothing out his irritation.
“First, tell me what you want with my daughter,” he declares, the indelicacy returning in his expression. “You have known her for just over a month.”
True. Even I have to remind myself of this often, and yet what I feel is profound. Does one really need to have been with someone for years before they know they’d stab a man for them? Or is it my unique magic that makes me so confident in her?
“That’s personal, and you know it. So instead, how about this—you tell me the truths I want, and I’ll ensure Jane believes your sincerity and trusts you once more,” I offer. I wait to see how that feels, and oddly enough, my gut guides me to this being the correct path.
That piques his interest more than anything I’ve said so far. “We can start there.”
“And one more thing,” I say, knowing this is going to piss him off, but I’m claimingthis. “I stay in her quarters.”
“Oh, fuck off.” I’ve hit such a nerve that I can tell he doesn’t even believe me, although the grate in his voice says otherwise.
“You want my help to get her to trust you, and I know about Kathleen.” Ritter’s brown eyes are so very careful to hide the absolute annoyance brewing in his chest. “I can be very critical in how revealing that plays out. How all of it does, actually.”
“How chivalrous to threaten her father.”
I lean over, and I don’t know why, but even now, I can’t quite bite my tongue. “She doesn’t want me for my chivalry.”
Ritter is so conflicted he can’t stand it, his body so still it could morph into a statue. I can read him so fucking clear, and he’s so uncertain on how to parent a child who thinks he’s been gone for over ten years, while also respecting her adult autonomy.
“I have every motivation to see her heart is beating by the end of this,” I add. “Ialsodon’t want her alone. I kept the Council from getting to her, and I didn’t even have to work that hard to do it. Don’t act like I’m some petty thief.”
I’ll never tire of knowing when I’ve won in a conversation before the other person admits it. “If Jane has any hesitation, or any hint that she doesn’t want you there, wewillfight over it.”
A sly smile slowly spreads on my face. “AndIcan work with that.”
J A N E
I’m never complaining again after this is all said and done.
Every time my mindtouchesa concept of what we discussed, it dissolves like wet sand between my fingers.
My hands are restless as I twirl my hair so much it’s almost a permanent ringlet. My eyes haven’t moved from the dark wood of my father’s seat; if I look away, it makes it all too real. I also can’t stop examining every memory, wishing I could desperately go back in time to pay attention toeverything.
Whatelseis he hiding? If anything at all? How much of my childhood is true? Was Mom in on all of these secrets? Did ‘Ern’ ever tell me anything that was a hint? It’s all just…
I’mstunnedthat everything could be explained with what Dad told me. It’s actually a massive relief that I didn’t make up my entire life in my head and that what happened to mewasreal. But with that comes an incredibly difficult concept—acceptingit also means welcoming in the absolutely monstrous concept thata god is after me.
Every time that sinks in, my gaze wanders back to a certain detail of the chair that comforts me like nothing else has in a very long time—at the top are dahlias carved into the wood.
Mom always grabbed fresh ones when she could.
My actual family.
There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason when I finally make the decision to stand, approaching the chair from the side as the totality of my life settles in my heart like ash once a fire is no more than a crackle. Running my hand over the smooth wood, my fingers roll with the indents and raises. Touching the dahlias breathes so much life into someone that’s become a distant memory for me.
Bringing her to life also pulls forward the image of her lying on the wooden deck with blood blooming on her peach dress. I can even see her blonde hair stuck to her jawline, everything stained in crimson.
