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She laughed heartily. “I wasn’t always the woman you see before you. In my youth, I was quite the looker.”

I frowned. I’d always thought Mama H beautiful, but in the motherly, comforting way of rounded, soft older woman. I tried to peer through that and reverse the years, and yes, just there, I could see it, the winking, mischievous young woman, hungry for life and adventure.

“What—” I stopped myself right before I asked, What happened? That seemed rude and offensive to ask, even though it was what I really wanted to know.

Mama H looked back out across the river. “I was barely of age when I made my way to this country. My father brought me over on a business trip. Of course he did.”

Her face went dark. “I was his favorite daughter to rape every night, so naturally he couldn’t leave me behind for even a day.”

I blanched. “Mama H—” I reached out a hand and she caught it by my wrist, then settled it gently back on my own lap.

“I’ve dealt with that evil man, lass, don’t you worry. He doesn’t walk this earth anymore.”

Now my eyes were as wide as my open mouth. I snapped it shut. Holy shit. Mama H had secret depths I never could have guessed.

And she was just laying them all bare to me for some reason, because she went on.

“I ran away from him and disappeared as best I knew. It was a little easier to do back then. No cell phones or GPS trackers and all that nonsense. I rode a bus south and then got off at a random stop and walked down the most deserted road I could. Eventually I found my way up a long, winding drive with beautiful oak trees lining both sides, to the most beautiful mansion I’d ever seen. It was something out of a storybook.”

Even now, all these years later, her voice took on a wistful quality as she spoke. “I’d lived in the city my whole life. A dirty part of Glasgow, and Glasgow’s already ranked the dirtiest city in all of Scotland. But here everything was so pristine and beautiful and smelled of pines and fresh air.” She closed her eyes and inhaled, a peaceful smile overcoming her face.

“When I knocked on the door, they asked if I was one of the belles. I’d gotten there just in time for an Initiate’s ball. The harried woman just let me in without even asking to see my invitation.” Mama H shook her head. “It was an unorganized chaos with the belles back then. It’s a wonder they got anything accomplished.”

I smiled even as I wanted to push her to hurry up the story. What happened next? How did she meet my mom? But if there was one thing I’d learned in all my time with Mama H, it was that you never rushed her.

Still, I couldn’t help asking. “So, what’d you do?” I’d only heard whispered tidbits about the “belles” and what supposedly happened during these “Initiations”. Rafe used to speculate about the stuff his brother would have to do one day when he went through the Trials, but it was always this esoteric, far-away thing. Like the formalities or activities of a royal family, it was so far away from our lives.

A wicked glint came into Mama H’s eyes. “I took advantage of the disarray. I found a spare dress and made myself up like one of the belles.”

Well, she’d managed to shock me again. My mouth dropped open once more. “You pretended to be one?”

She shrugged haughtily. “After asking around, I realized they were all women like me. We all had sad stories, and I’d stumbled upon a real-life fairytale. I could be Cinderella if I got the prince to kiss me by the end of the ball.”

My heart sank.

She said it so I didn’t have to: “Not that that happened. Silly for me to think it would, even for a moment.” She laughed, but it was one of those slightly hurt laughs, like it still stung, even after all these years.

I wanted to reach out to her again, but considering how she’d rejected my touch last time, I didn’t try again. Experience had taught me that while Mama H had infinite comfort to give, she still rarely allowed you to reciprocate. She was an iron pillar, and the fact that she showed me such vulnerability in this moment… it was special. It meant she’d let me in further than she did most people.

“No, I was not chosen that night. Another beautiful, less broken woman without shadows in her eyes was picked.”

God, I wanted to hug her. If she would have allowed it, I would have.

“But”—she brightened, looking back at me—“it was what was meant to be.” Her eyes were bright. “Because I wasn’t chosen, I became what I am today.”

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