Page List

Font Size:

We. Do. Not. Cry.

I hold on to that rule so fucking hard as I dig my nails into my palms and shake on my husband’s lap.

“What were their names?” I whisper.

With every name he says, I carve their essence into my heart. His tone never fluctuates, just stays as a monotone monument to factuality. A grieving father pretending to be strong. A grieving mother trying too.

When he finishes, we sit in silence, their names on repeat inside my skull. Eight names… Six boys. Two girls. I don’t ask how they died or at what age, my heart too sore with the knowledge already gained.

I simply close my eyes and take a deep breath before opening them again. “I want to see Leon,” I say, “and the others.”

“Leon is out,” he says. “The twins, Bonnie and Molly, are at school with their younger brother,Jonathan, but you can seeOliviaand Ryo.”

My throat tightens as he stands, holding me to his chest. I try to picture what the two will look like, but all I can imagine are the faces of the dead staring back at me, morphed into the young faces of my children.

My mouth runs drier with every step he takes to his office door, then down the green wallpapered hall. They’re not going to recognize me as their mother. They might be afraid of me – this haunted figure carried in their father’s arms. Do they have another woman they callMama, even if it’s only in the darkness of their dreams? Will they cry for her, wanting her to save them fromme?

I swallow hard for all too soon, we are standing outside the door towhat is assumingly the newnursery.Giggles come through the wood,and my heart slams hard in my chest.WhenCaden reaches for the handle, I make a soft strangled noise he is somehow able to decipher.

Not yet. I’m not ready.

He stills, then moves his hand back to my right hip. He squeezes me slightly, giving me time to catch my breath and still my nerves.

“Put me down,” I say despite knowing my legs are too weak to hold my weight on their own. He hesitates for a second, then takes a few steps back before placing my feet on thehardwood floor. My muscles don’t feel connected to my brain, my knees buckling almost instantly, but I don’t drop far. It’s not even noticeable to anyone but us, Caden’s magic catching me just as fast.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. My legs shift under his telekinesis, allowing me to seemingly walk on my own, and my heart blossoms into my throat, pushing tears up that I hurriedly blink back.

“Thank you,” I whisper, words so soft I can barely hear them, but he wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses me on the temple.

My hand lifts to the handle.

I take a deep breath.

Then enter.

Only to immediately wish I didn’t.

The woman’s laughter rings out like a ray through the clouds of a storm as she stands in front of a white wooden cribpressed against the wall on the left. She’s wearing a purple flower-patterned dress as she holds a blue bundle in her arms. She’s a bit older than me – older than Iwasbefore I woke up. Though not older than I am now, and that knowledge settles heavily in my stomach. My mouth tastes bitter as I swallow the sudden increase in age, the lost yearsshegets to enjoy. My eyes burn, but I lift my chin, wondering who this woman is who holds my son like she’s his mother.

The love between them is as obvious as their lack of shared blood –her skin a few shades lighter than the rich Asian-like bronze of our family– butit makes up for anytraditional titles she might not have. I am a mother,hismother, and yet that title falls flat in the face of their bond.

She looks up at me, that radiant smile dimming a bit. Her eyes dart over my shoulder to Caden, then back to me before growing wide, the smile now gone completely. She opens her mouth to say something as I wet mine to do the same, but neither of us get the chance.

The blue bundle in her arms says, “Mama,” breaking my heart as he looks at the woman who isn’t me.

My feet move forward, commanded by Caden even as I want to turn and run, to find somewhere to hide before this beautiful woman watches me fall apart.

I am a Shadow. I am a Shadow…I tell myself.

But I am not his mother.

Not in any way that matters to him.

My chest tightens.

My throat constricts.

I dig my teeth deep into my cheek so I don’t scream out my torment at the sound of his words.