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She wanted to talk to Azar to tell him that. . .I’m crazy? That I made up silent witnesses to justify murdering my kidnappers?
Something inside of me breaks in that moment.
“You left me to protect the children.” My words are barely a whisper.
“She seems genuinely fond of her sisters and brother,” Mom says, still not talking to me. “And who better to protect children from monsters than—” She cuts off.
But I know what she meant to say.
Who better to protect them from a monster than another monster? A monster who’s fond of the ones who need protection. My own mother thinks I’m damaged in ways that can’t be easily repaired. She thinks I’m not reliable, and that I’m not quite human.
My shoulders fall. My eyes drop to the ground, and my mind casts backward to that memory. It’s vivid. It’s seared into my brain.
I can see them—the hundred plus people crowded into the space between the small entry into the cavern and the ledge they tried to shove me down. They were there—all adults. Male and female. They were chanting. I couldn’t have made that up.
Could I?
What about her birthmark? Azar’s voice is skeptical. He’s not a human, and his feelings don’t always track the way I would expect, but it sounds like he disbelieves my mom’s story.
“It’s true that she has a heart-shaped birthmark,” Mom says. “But I have a birthmark on my back. Her father has one on his knee. We thought that was why she made up the story she did.”
“All these years, you thought I made it up? And where would I have gotten the word hjartanu? I don’t speak Icelandic.”
“You might have heard it from one of the attackers. Or perhaps you heard a police officer say the word.” Mom finally turns toward me slowly. “You have no idea how much worse things could have been for you. Those three who stole you, they were in trouble with their boss—the leader of the ring. Your memories could have been far worse, and we couldn’t even correct you without talking about a lot of things we didn’t want to expose you to, not after what you’d already endured.”
“You think being sold to perverts would be worse than people who wanted to throw me into a volcano?”
Mom’s face is sad. “But they weren’t throwing you into a volcano. That was merely the liaison spot.”
Rage bubbles up inside of me. My mother thinks I made up my memory. She thinks her own daughter’s crazy. “No way.” I shake my head. “They took me because of my tattoo, and they were about to shove me over the ledge. How else would I have dragged that woman there?”
She turns back to Azar. “Even as a child, when questioned, she doubled down on her story like this.” She looks weary. “There wasn’t anything we could do to help her, then or now.”
“You think I made it all up? The people telling me they took me for my tattoo—my birthmark? The people at the volcano, and the ones who were going to throw me in?”
Her face falls. “It was an awful thing you endured, but I don’t think it has anything to do with the blessed or their search.”
I stare at her, and I wish I’d listened. I wish I’d never followed them here and heard that my mother thinks I’m a homicidal, broken monster. A crazy, delusional one at that.
Azar takes a ponderous step forward, and he drops his head down low so it’s right next to me. I believe Liz.
My heart swells. I know my mom’s not trying to hurt me, but. . .
“I thought you might.” Mom bows, doubling over entirely, and then slowly stands. “I mean no disrespect to you or to your bonded, and I certainly have never wanted to hurt my daughter. But look at the phone.” She straightens and turns to leave, her shoulders square and her head held high.
As she walks through the doorway, she freezes. “Oh.”
I spin around, catching sight of the toes of a pair of boots—Gideon’s. He must have been listening in. How very Gideon of him, trying to protect me even now.
But I can’t go find him right now. I have a phone file to inspect. My hand’s trembling as I pick it up.
Liz.
I shake my head. “Let me just look at this.” But I can’t open it. I just keep staring at it. I have to remind myself that one thing no one has ever accused me of is being a coward. I ball my hand into a fist, and I crouch down, and I force my fingers to pick it up.
But by the time I straighten, Azar has transformed into Axel’s human form. His hand takes me by the wrist. “Liz.”
My eyes widen. “You can’t do that here. Anyone could have seen you.”
