Page 62 of Corrupted Union

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, sweetie. Just thinking. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

“Oh yeah?” I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Mom and I had never had a super close relationship—I was more of a Daddy’s girl—and we certainly didn’t do heart-to-hearts, so I had no idea where she was going with this.

“I think it’s time for a change. It probably seemed crazy that I never touched this room, but … I just couldn’t. It’s still not easy, but even if Ivy were here, she wouldn’t want her room so childish. I thought we could freshen things up—give it a bit of a makeover. We could make it into an Ivy-inspired guest room.” She looked at me with such hope that my chest grew tight. “You think … you might want to work on it … with me? I thought maybe we could do it together.”

I had to swallow twice before I could get words past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, Mom. I think that sounds great.”

She nodded, dropping her gaze with a small sniffle before looking back at me and smiling. She lifted her hand and smoothed a stray lock of hair back with the rest. “You aren’t wearing makeup today.”

“Yeah … I didn’t wear any while Keir and I were away, and it was kind of nice. Just let my skin breathe.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m glad. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

A torrent of emotions ripped through my chest, but before it could overcome me, Mom stood and grinned.

“Have you had breakfast? I could whip up some eggs.”

“I already had a little something, but thank you.”

“Okay, I’m going to throw together something for myself.” She gently touched my hair again, then turned. I followed her out of the room, pausing to watch her disappear down the stairs. Losing Ivy had broken her. While I’d struggled, my twin connection always made me feel like I still retained a piece of my sister. Mom reminded me of the Lost Boy in Peter Pan who never could find his marbles. She did the best she could, but the loss had left her adrift, and she’d never found her way back.

With a heavy sigh, I crossed the hall to my room. I needed a minute alone to process.

I lay back on my bed, absently studying the chandelier fixture above. I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew, my phone buzzing in my pocket startled me awake.

Stetson: Can we talk?

A sticky shower of guilt rained down on me.

I’d been avoiding him, and that wasn’t my style. I liked to address things head-on, but I felt so clueless about how to explain what had happened. Stetson and I had been together for a year and had known each other far longer. We weren’t as in love as I’d thought, but that didn’t mean what I’d done hadn’t been a harsh betrayal. As difficult as it was, giving him closure was the least I could do.

Me: Of course. I’m at my parents’ house, though.

Stetson: I’m at Dad’s. Could you stop by here?

Keir would murder me himself if I stepped foot from this house again. No matter how much guilt I carried, I wouldn’t even entertain the option.

Me: I can’t. Could you stop by here instead? I’m sorry. It’s complicated.

Stetson: Yeah, I’ll be by soon.

It looked like my day would be filled with uncomfortable conversations. Joy.

I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the fact that at least it would soon be over.

Oran,Conner, Torin, and I piled in my car to go confront Caitlin. We made a quick stop at the Bastion club on the way to retrieve the items we’d need, then arrived just before noon at Oran’s apartment building.

I texted Rowan to check on her while I waited for Conner to run inside Bastion. She assured me all was well. I hated that I had to worry about her, but dealing with Caitlin helped. At least I was moving toward a solution on one front. Once this was over, my cousins and I would find a way to deal with Wellington and Damyon.

“You ready for this?” I asked Oran quietly as we walked to the elevator.

“Don’t worry about me.” He’d been silent on the way over, nothing but resolute determination etched on his face, but I knew this had to be difficult.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. We can take care of it without you.”

“If she answers to anyone, it’ll be me. It’s my goddamn father she stole.”

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