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The group outburst rattles me. But Ruth stays perfectly still.
I crawl to her, holding her clammy hand in mine. “Your grandfather is the bastard child of Malcolm Mazonist. His mother escaped this country to hide her pregnancy in Demechnef. Your real name is Ruth Mazonist, the rightful heir to the Vexamen throne.”
The group is deadly quiet at first. But Warrose whoops like a howling animal, running a hand through his hair.
Niles jumps to his feet with a gaping smile. “What?! WHAT?”
Dessin laughs in genuine shock.
Marilynn kisses Ruth on the head with tears gathering at the corners of her sapphire blue eyes. Although…she doesn’t look surprised.
“Are you certain?” Ruth starts to cry, and I can’t tell if it’s out of happiness or pain or the unknown of her future.
“Yes!”
“Skylenna,” Grandpa Monroe interrupts. “She’ll struggle for a long time. It’s true. But this bit of news will act as a beacon of light for her. A force of strength and motivation to survive her hardships. Never let her forget who she really is.”
I bow my head. Unbelievably thankful that he picked his moment to share this with me.
Warrose wipes the tears and sweat from Ruth’s face, looking both relieved and tortured as she shudders in his arms. Her cries stun us into silence.
“How am I supposed to be any good to anyone like this?” she finally verbalizes with a discouraging finality to her tone.
Warrose’s jaw tics. “Your strength doesn’t come from your legs, my little rebel. It comes from your heart. Your soul.” He lifts her chin softly, forcing her to look at our family sitting around her. “This family is filled with misfits, broken bodies, and minds. But our hearts beat as one. We make up where the other lacks. Do you understand?”
I look around at all of us. Niles’s burns. Warrose’s scars that paint his body like tattoos. Marilynn’s history with Vlademur Demechnef. Dessin’s traumatic past in Demechnef. Kane’s childhood. My childhood.
Ruth sniffs and squeezes her eyes shut so hard, tears run rampant. She nods twice.
“What do you need from us, Ruthie? Give us just one thing we can do to help you feel better.” Niles leans forward, holding together his own suffering for his best friend.
Ruth doesn’t hesitate. She closes her eyes, licks her dry lips, and exhales.
“I need a group hug. From my family.”
I don’t understand why this single request clogs my throat with the need to cry for the rest of my life. And it’s not just me. Dessin’s eyes fall to the floor, catching the light with a subtle shine. His Adam’s apple shifts just as Niles has to look away, nodding like that request is the best one he’s ever heard.
And in this moment, we look at each other simultaneously. It’s in this stare between each family member, we understand the weight of this group hug. It was a source of humor when we first reunited. It was something that brought smiles to our faces. It was a request that Dessin might have denied under any other circumstance.
But this is Ruth.
And as we gaze into each other’s eyes, we know that this special momenthis hug, it’s for all we’ve lost. It’s for Ruth.
I hold my breath against the sob rising in my lungs as we scoot forward, encircling Ruth’s body with our heat and love and sorrow. My right arm slides around Dessin’s waist, and his left over my shoulder. My left hand finds the side of Niles’s ribs, and he stretches his arm around Warrose, who is embracing Marilynn. And last, Marilynn slides her hand over mine against Dessin’s back.
We huddle so closely together, foreheads almost touching, tears dripping around Ruth’s sobbing figure, unable to keep her eyes open as we have this one moment.
There are no silly remarks from Niles.
No rude comments from Dessin.
Our hearts beat as one.
For Ruth.
43. Show Of Dolls
Dessin
