Page 112 of Break Out the Girl

“What am I missing?” I ask quietly.

No one answers me. Tally’s eyes are locked on the glass, his jaw rigid, while his dad looks down at the table.

London, whose faun-ears are twitching, makes a small sound. “They’re worried about the mum-bird. Maybe I should go sing to the stars, see if I can call her back?”

Mum-bird?

Before I can ask what that means, there’s a huge smashing sound. The windows rattle as something large crashes outside.

In the next second, London leaps from the stool, tackling me to the ground and shoving me under the table.

Tally and François are immediately on their feet. “Dad, stay back!”

Basil bursts into the room from another direction, clutching a fire-poker. “What is it?”

Another heavy bang echoes from beyond the front door, followed by a groan.

Pushing Tally to one side, François points at me. “Everyone hide. I’ll deal with this,” he hisses to the room.

Basil dives under the table, crouching in front of me with his poker. We’re ducked down behind the long tablecloth and can’t see anything.

I know when François opens the door, because the storm howls into the house, spraying freezing rain across the linoleum. “IT’S SAFE,” he yells a moment later, slamming the door shut again. Basil immediately shoots out, but it takes me longer to emerge. I’m definitely not feeling one hundred percent.

I apparently nearly died? Or did die?

That’s something I’ll have to digest when I’ve more than a few seconds of peace and quiet. Finally straightening up, I see François supporting an older woman into the room. She’s wet, muddy and windswept, but wears the most serene expression.

The woman moves towards Tally’s dad. “Oh, Gareth. You can’t imagine.” She’s beaming. This has to be Mrs. Bevan. “I flew through the thunder, I played with the lightning. Oh, Gar, It was amazing.” She wraps her arms around the man as he struggles to move his walker.

“Opal,” he chokes out.

“Oh, gods, Mom…” Tally joins his parents in the embrace.

I stare at the three of them. There is something about Tally’s mom. It’s like I know her.

Or more exactly, like my body knows her.

Knows it was she who healed me.

Opal looks over Tally’s shoulder towards me, then smiles. Pushing her menfolk out of the way, she comes closer, holding out her arms. “Aurora,” she says, her voice warm and musical. “Child. Let me look at you.”

She takes my hands and cocks her head to one side. “Better. Much better.” Leaning in, she places a kiss on my cheek. “I am so very happy to have you in the family.”

That brings an instant lump to my throat. Yes, I’ve found a family with London, Tally and François. Layla, Sky, and now Basil—but a parental figure wants me?

I don’t even know how to comprehend that.

A shuffling footfall breaks my train of thought. In the doorway, another older man appears. He looks exhausted, and half-starved. A dark ring of bruises circle his throat.

When his tired eyes meet mine, he smiles tentatively. “Hello, miss. I’m Jim. I believe you’re friends with my daughter.”

“Daughter?”

“Layla.”

I instantly cross the room and wrap my arms tight around him, burying my face in his sweater. Layla’s dad! Somewhere along the way, the guys found him too!

Mrs. Bevan takes Jim by the arm. “Come and sit. You don’t look too steady.”