“Mama,” I say. My heart is shattering, slicing through my internal organs like the sharpest of glass. I am being destroyed from the inside, and it’s happening too quickly for me to process, for me to school my expression.
Mama knew.
She knew what happened to Secora. She knew Harrison raped her, and she covered it up. And suddenly, I realize what I would have if I hadn’t hidden from the truth.
Mama would have been the first on scene at Harrison’s murder. She would have seen the way his blood was drained from his body. She would have known Secora—an infamously dangerous mind witch—wouldn’t have killed him like that. She wouldn’t have needed to bleed him dry. But I…that’sexactlyhow I would have done it.
She knew I killed him. She knew, and she blamed Secora. She let her go to prison. She called for her death, knowing she was innocent. That she was theonlyinnocent.
“Mama,” I say again.
My body goes slack in the chair.
Did you know I loved her? I want to ask, but I can’t.
I promised Secora I wouldn’t say a word, and right now, that’s the only thing sparing Mama from my wrath.
Did you know she was mine when you destroyed her? When you ruined her life?
It doesn’t matter, of course. Whether or not Secora was mine, she was innocent. She was pure. She needed Mama’s help, and Mama, the council…they denied her. For me, for Harrison.
Because it was easier.
“I’ve made peace with it,” Mama says.
“I haven’t,” I say. I swallow thickly as I look in her eyes, silently telling her everything I can’t yet say. “But I promise, I will.”
“Elliot—”
I’m out the door before I have to hear another word.
27
RETAINED MEMORY
CORA
Elliot looks intoxicated. He stumbles down the final stretch of cobblestone street, relying more on me than himself to stay upright. I’ve got both arms wrapped around his middle, fingers digging into his blood splattered shirt. If anyone happens upon us right now…
I look to my left, then the right. I don’t know what time it is, but the stars are still visible, and the moon is high in the black sky. I’m relying on the natural light to guide us to Elliot’s home, a place I’ve never dared to go. More than once, Elliot has encouraged me to meet his mother, to at least show up as his friend. I always knew it wouldn’t end well, so denying him was easy.
Now though, I wonder if this all would have ended differently if I had. Maybe, if Madam Lyrie met me before Elliot brought me to report Harrison’s crime. Maybe, if she’d known me as one of Elliot’s friends. Maybe, if she knew me at all, she would have believed me. She would have punished Harrison, and Elliot never would have…
I swallow. It doesn’t matter.
“Hey, that’s my house,” Elliot slurs.
My head throbs at the sound of his voice. I’ve got too many memories stuffed in my head. Every single piece I stole from him is nowtrapped in my skull, desperate to escape. I don’t have room for both his memories and my own.
I’ll need to empty his at some point. For now, there are bigger problems at hand.
“That’s right,” I say. My voice is soft and smooth, gentle, as if I’m talking to a child.
I’ve never wiped someone’s memories. I’ve read about it, but up until a couple weeks ago, I’ve never had the magic to attempt it. Elliot had replaced my true cuffs with these false ones, but I’ve hardly had time to master my magic. I’ve managed a few small spells, but this was far out of my league.
Still, I think I did it right. It’s too late to question it now.
I glance up at Elliot. He’s looking at his house before us, blinking slowly. I think he’ll be okay. His brain should heal around the stolen memories, and he should be exactly as he should have been all along: whole without me there to ruin him.
