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Because four more women’s lives—and Thalia’s—might rely on what she isn’t telling us.
That she’s able to speak has never been in doubt, at least for me. This girl chooses to hold her silence, and I need to break through whatever deep-seated fear keeps her that way.
“Come here,” I say softly, disguising the command as best I can.
She looks at me uncertainly through her lashes, hiding from me like she did that first night. She grips that sheet to her like a shield, her breaths shallow and too fast.
“Thalia,” I murmur and sigh. I can’t sugarcoat this any longer. “The girls we saved are dying. The girls like you.” My voice cracks on that last word, and it’s what gets her attention.
Her brow dips, forming lines across her forehead. She presses her hand to her chest, her fingers uncurling from the sheet.
I nod. “Yes. You’re in danger too. So are the remaining four.”
Three fingers press to her clavicle, and her eyes fill with tears.
“They won’t be the last if we can’t understand why the girls are dying. If your friend…” I inhale fast as her tears start to fall, and voice the suspicions I’ve held since that night. “If she was murdered … made to look like a suicide.”
Thalia watches me as her face clears. Some strength inside her rises, and her eyes blaze with a cold fury I’ve never seen in her before, but fuck me if I don’t love seeing her roused like this.
“That’s it, honey. Live for me. For yourself,” I murmur, and hold out my hand, curling my fingers. “This will be a lot easier if you aren’t hiding over there.”
I don’t make any more promises. If she doesn’t trust me by now, then I’ll never earn what I crave.
Her gaze flicks between my face and my hand before she makes her decision. She creeps toward me, the sheet dropping between us to tangle about her legs. Thalia doesn’t stop moving until her knees brush mine in the barest touch. Then she pauses and looks at me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice shattering at the magnitude of what she’s just done.
Thalia rarely responds to anything with more than the slightest gesture caught only by attentive eyes. For her to meet me more than halfway is a mammoth effort. I want to crush her against me, but I know that will send her skittering.
Aware my time is limited, having stalled all night, and wearing Rafe’s ire this morning, I lean forward into her space, noting she doesn’t shift backward, though her lashes flutter in her singular sign of alarm.
“Tell me what you’re scared of. Why are the girls dying, Thalia?”
Her lips move but no sound comes out.
Mother.
“Mother?” I repeat, unsure I heard—read—her right.
A sharp breath sucks into her lungs, and she stares down at her fingers, inching their way to where mine sit on my knees.
I watch, mesmerized, as she oh-so-slowly lifts her fine-boned hand and places it on top of mine. My body freezes, unable to move lest I scare her away. Her fragile touch gives the faintest, almost ticklish presence over my skin, but it’scontact.Inside my chest my heart swells, blocking my throat as her lips move once more.
“Say that again, honey?” I croak, flicking my fingers up in a reflex action to curl around the sides of hers. Not grabbing or holding her lest she think I want to imprison her, but returning the gentle pressure until I want to burst.
“Mothers,” she whispers. Her voice is a ruined sound, like the hearts of tarnished angels singing their final note. “They—” She coughs, tucking her head down, her volume already fading from lack of use. “Selthm.”
“Thalia?” I curl my other hand beneath her chin, risking it all, needing to see her face.
When she raises her head, her eyes are full of unshed anguish and pain I know will haunt me forever, her voice a burst of energy full of hate and horrors.
“They sold our babies.”
Chapter Four
Forever Promises
Thalia
