Page 130 of Storm Caller

I huff out a breath. “I can understand that.”

We enter an ornately furnished living room covered in thick embroidered rugs with elaborate velvet curtains draped over floor-to-ceiling windows. Mrs. Chu sits on one of the sofas, her feet tucked up under an embroidered silk robe as she gazes out at the skyline and into the distance.

“Ellie,” Annie says. “One of Edward’s friends is here to see you.”

Mrs. Chu turns to look at me, blinking slowly. Her black hair is pulled back into a knot at her nape, and her flawless complexion is free of makeup.

“Poet,” she says softly, reaching for me. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”

Suddenly, I feel terrible about how long it took me to visit. I cross the room and clasp her hands in mine. Her fingers are fragile and cold, like she might snap in two with the barest pressure.

“You’ve heard the rumors about Edward?” she asks, and I nod.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” I say, but she waves me off.

“You’re busy with school,” she says. “And you’ve plenty of your own troubles to deal with.”

I nod as I sink down on the coffee table in front of her. “You could say that.”

“I’m glad to see you’re well. And I’m sorry that Trinity treated you that way. It seems like that girl was intent on hurting everyone last year.”

“Has she been by?” I ask, and Mrs. Chu scoffs.

“Please. And have to face the consequences of her actions? She broke Edward’s heart. Did you know he stopped going to classes because of her?”

I nod. “He mentioned it to me. Said you yelled at him.”

“I absolutely did!” she says, slapping her thigh. “He deserved it. Imagine throwing away your future for that trashy girl.”

She shakes her head, and a strange, deep-seated instinct inside me still wants to defend Trinity. I remind myself she doesn’t deserve it. Maybe she never did.

“Imagine accusing an innocent person of such a thing,” she says to me. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “That means a lot.”

She nods and then glances behind me.

“Tea?” Annie asks, holding up a tray. I slide off the table and into an armchair while she pours each of us a cup.

“Mrs. Chu,” I say, cradling the mug in my hands, trying to warm my suddenly ice-cold fingers. “Did you have any idea where Edward was before now?”

Tears fill her eyes. “They told me he was caught in the Blood Storm,” she says. “That he was crushed by falling debris, his body mangled beyond recognition. I believed them.”

She takes a shaky sip from her cup and exhales a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know how I could have missed that he was keeping such a secret.”

Acid burns in my gut at the sadness on her face. Everything in me desperately wants to scream that it’s all a lie and Edward is alive. That he was unjustly imprisoned. That he’s okay, but that he’ll have to leave New Manhattan soon, and she’ll probably never see him again.

But instead I bite my tongue so hard I nearly taste blood.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I’m sure if he were here, he would tell you how much he loves you and that he never meant for any of this to happen.”

Mrs. Chu’s eyes drop. “I would tell him that I love him, too.”

She takes another sip of her tea, slow and deliberate.

“But it’s strange,” she muses. “A mother always knows. Even when children think they’re being clever with their secrets, a mother knows.”