Page 178 of Stormbreaker

“She didn’t leave. Your father had her killed.”

My stomach drops through my feet. “Why would he do that?”

“I know what you are, too, Poet Graves,” she sneers.

I exhale a sharp breath and take a step back. “Did your mother tell you? She was the only one who knew.”

Greta scoffs, and what I clocked as mere dislike clearly runs much deeper than that.

She loathes me. I took her mother from her, but I’m still not sure why.

“She wasn’t the only one who knew. Do you really think you could hide that from your father?”

I shake my head, trying to piece it all together.

“Your brother, too, of course,” Greta adds, triumphant. She’s enjoying this slow reveal of my life peeling apart.

At that, I look up. “Raine? He was a Keeper, too?”

Greta shakes her head with a cruel laugh. “They didn’t tell you anything, did they?”

“My father knows what I am?” I ask, my mind spinning with a thousand disparate thoughts.

Greta folds her arms, her expression softening, maybe pitying me for how clueless I’ve been. “He does. And he went to great lengths to protect your secret, leaving me with nothing. Without a mother, I had no one to take care of me. I almost died.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, hoping she understands how much I mean it. “I’m sorry you lost your mother because of me. Because of us.”

And Raine. Why did he never say anything? He was a Keeper, too? Does it run in family lines? Were we bonded by blood in ways I couldn’t begin to imagine?

“Does my mother know?”

Greta shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

She peers past my shoulder, and I look back at Rook, still keeping his distance.

I turn to Greta again, but she’s already started running, disappearing down the tunnel, swallowed by the shadows.

“Wait!” I call. “Let me help you!”

She ignores me, and I don’t try to follow. Maybe she’ll find me when she’s ready.

A moment later, Rook approaches and carefully takes my hand.

“Who was that?”

“Someone I knew. Or I mean, someone who was connected to someone I knew.”

“Are you okay?”

I blow out a breath and rub my forehead as a sharp pain shoots across my scalp.

“I think I need to lie down.”

“Let’s go,” he says, taking my hand and leading me back to Amery.

I’m grateful when Rook doesn’t ask me any more questions.

I’m not sure I can offer up this shame for him to witness.