Page 117 of Magical Mayhem
Keegan’s mother.
Gasps echoed around us. A chair clattered to the stone floor. The kitchen sprites fluttered high into the rafters, their wings buzzing with anxious magic.
Keegan’s breathing was ragged, but he stared at her like the world had ended and begun all over again. Then, somehow, he straightened. With a resolve I hadn’t seen since before the curse sank into his marrow, he lifted himself off my arm. His steps were shaky, but they carried him forward until he stood near her.
He circled her slowly, eyes never leaving hers, his expression carved from a mixture of rage, betrayal, and the unbearable ache of a son who once needed a mother and found only silence.
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t speak. She simply stood there, letting him look, letting him rage without words.
When he had completed the circle, Keegan stopped in front of her. His jaw clenched hard enough that I thought it might break. Then he shook his head, a short, sharp movement, and turned away.
He walked past me without a word, shoulders hunched, each step costing him more of the little strength he had left. I could hear his breath rasping, saw the slight tremor in his hands, but he didn’t stop.
My heart thundered.
I knew that pain.
That betrayal. The wound of abandonment that never truly healed, only scarred. But I also knew what it must have cost her to stand here, knowing he’d look at her with nothing but fury. Knowing her son would see her and turn away.
As he brushed past, I caught her eyes. They were filled with so much sorrow I nearly wept. And then, subtly, fleetingly, she gave me the smallest nod and the faintest smile of understanding.
It felt like she was telling me,Go to him. He needs you more than anyone right now.
So I did.
I followed Keegan, my pulse roaring in my ears. Each step felt heavier than the last, not just with the weight of my worry for him but with the knowledge of the moment we’d just witnessed.
Something had cracked open in Stonewick. Something that had been buried for decades. And we had very little time to mend it before the shadows swallowed us whole.
Behind me, voices rose. Stella, with her signature blend of exasperation and steel, was already speaking.
“He’s ill,” she told Keegan’s mother. “Don’t think for one second you can simply waltz in here and not know the cost your absence has taken on him. He’s not well, and every wasted breath is another step closer to…”
“Stella,” my father interrupted, his voice low but firm.
I slowed to hear the conversation.
“She needs to understand that the boy’s fighting harder than anyone sees, and he hasn’t got much left to give.”
“He’s a man,” my dad corrected.
The words cut deep. Deeper than I wanted to admit.
I turned one last time, glimpsing his mom’s face.
Keegan’s mother stood motionless, listening. Her lips pressed together as if she were biting back words, but her eyes… her eyes told the truth.
She knew. She’d already seen the shadows eating at him. She’d already felt the weakness in his steps.
She understood what little time we had.
And so did I.
Because he’d spent his nights talking to the moon, and she listened.
I caught up to Keegan in the corridor. He leaned against the stone wall, his head tipped back, eyes closed. He was pale, every muscle straining just to keep him upright.
I reached for him. “Keegan…”
