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She looked familiar, though I couldn’t place her. She was early to mid-sixties, short, very thin, with dark brown skin. I couldn’t say why, but she immediately reminded me of Amethyst.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” Elias said.
The woman looked at him but then dismissed him and looked at me.
“He has them,” she said, her voice low, serious.
“Who are you?” I asked.
She took a step, and one of the guards lifted his arm. I waved him away and nodded at the woman to enter.
“Who are you?” I said again.
She met my eyes, her expression giving away nothing. “I’m Crystal James. Amethyst’s mother.”
