Page 109 of To Ashes and Dust
“Sorry,” I said, remaining still. “So much has happened. I’ve just missed you guys so much.”
My dad pressed a kiss to my head, his hand gently brushing my back as I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s been a lot to adjust to.”
Silence hung in the air, and dread flooded my chest, sinking low into my gut. It couldn’t be time already… not yet. I wasn’t ready.
I needed more time. Just a little more time…
I wanted to say so much, wanted to thank them, to tell them to take care of each other, to always give each other warm hugs, to always smile the way they did.
“I love you so much,” I breathed one last time, reaching out through my thoughts, finding the walls of their minds. “Thank you for everything.”
“Cas—” Mom started.
Sleep.
It was barely a second before their weight settled against me, and my heart stuttered. I eased them down onto the blanket, their faces peaceful. I reached out to brush the dirty blonde strands of hair from my mom’s soft face. My eyes drifted to my father, to the wiry short chestnut hair, the wrinkles around his mouth etched from how wide he always smiled, the frown lines that had set into his forehead from all the years of scolding me when I’d break the rules as a child.
I bent down to press a kiss to his forehead, and the tears broke free, rolling down my cheeks before dripping onto his.
No, I couldn’t do this now. I needed to get to work, needed to get them to their car. I should call Damien. Air flooded my lungs, and I closed my eyes as I stretched out my thoughts, finding that tether that tied Damien and me together.
Mea sol…
His voice brushed my thoughts, the caress as gentle as his fingertips against my face.
Is it time?
My throat thickened, my chest filling with something so hard and painful that I whimpered, but I clasped my hand over my mouth.
I...
I couldn’t bring myself to say yes, to verbalize what I was about to do, the line I was about to cross. It was for the best, though. It would ensure they survived. The scent of cedarwood and leather drifted on the breeze, and I lifted my gaze to find him stepping from the tree line, followed closely by Zephyr and Barrett.
“Damien,” I breathed, my vision blurring. I swiped my hands across my eyes.
He kneeled beside me. “I’m here,mea luna.”
Barrett and Zephyr came to a stop behind him, their eyes passing over my parents. My parents never met them, and I wished so badly they had, wished they could’ve seen how happy I’d been the last few months. My mom would’ve liked Zephyr, and, once she got to know Barrett, would’ve possibly even considered him adorable for his childish antics. It would never happen now.
“Their car’s parked not far from here. It’ll seem like they went on a date and fell asleep watching the sunset,” I said, more to myself than them.
Damien didn’t say anything, tenderly tucking a loose curl behind my ear. “We’ll keep watch while you work.”
“Thank you,” I said as my gaze fell to my father. I placed my hand over his eyes before pressing my forehead to his, feeling that connection, that bridge between our minds. I began my search for all that was me residing within the recesses of his mind, of his memories. I followed the familiar pull of myself lingering within him, following that guiding light until I found each memory that resided in the depths of his consciousness... and I wiped it all clean.
“Can you take me to my parents’ house?” I asked as we settled my parents into their car. Damien tilted his head to me, dark brows rising.
The sun had long since set, the crisp night air filling my lungs. It had taken a few hours to fully comb through every memory, to plant the false ones and information. Exhaustion had settled into my bones. It had taken a lot out of me, and I was so desperate for rest. We weren’t done, though. James had been tasked with hacking into and removing any information of me linked to them. We didn’t have any living relatives to remember me, and my parents only had a few friends, mostly work friends; none close enough to call or come check on them, though.
It would be as if they’d never had a daughter.
It was colder now, the night temperature dipping, but the effects of the sleep I’d placed on them would wear off soon. They’d awaken with no memory of what had happened.
“I can stay here and keep an eye on them,” Zephyr offered.
“Thank you,” I said, unable to force a smile as I watched my mom’s chest rise and fall.
“Come,” Damien said, offering me his hand.
