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I was extremely impressed.
Even the Demon’s followers had been quiet, in a state of deep mourning since the Demon’s death had been announced. They were also killing themselves off left and right in tribute to their master’s legacy.
It was wonderful.
We’d been regrouping, taking it day by day, dreaming of a future that could actually happen now.
I was even enrolled back at Darkwood College, the dean mysteriously disappearing.
I’d pressed Cain about that, but he’d pretended he didn’t know what I was talking about.
“You don’t have to talk to her,” Stellan said fiercely, bringing me out of my head and back to the task at present.
He wasn’t a big fan of my mom.
None of them were.
And after everything that had happened…I was realizing I wasn’t a big fan either.
Which was why today was necessary.
“It will be over soon,” I told Stellan with a smile, before taking a deep breath and opening the door to the room.
She was sitting on a chair by the window, just staring out at the backyard.
“Hey,” I said cheerfully, or as cheerfully as someone like me could actually muster.
She jerked in her seat, her gaze flicking towards me. And I grimaced at the look in her eyes.
She was afraid of me.
Not that it should be surprising. After everything that had happened, everyoneshouldbe afraid of me.
“Hello,” she said carefully. I walked towards her, but when she pushed back in her chair like she thought I was about to lunge…I stopped. Keeping the fake smile on my face, I moved to the couch across the room from her instead of sitting in the chair next to her.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
She shrugged her shoulders and ran a hand through her shorn hair. The Demon had hacked it off all the way to her scalp.
“Ready for this to grow back so I don’t have to stare at myself in the mirror and think about everything.”
I nodded.
That was fair.
The silence between us was heavy. Uncomfortable.
Staring at her now, it was hard to remember how desperate I’d once been for a mother. Maybe I’d always have an ache there, where I would tangibly feel the loss of her.
Or maybe not her. Of the idea of her.
When you had mommy issues, that’s what you were really feeling. You were feeling the loss of your idea of what a mother was supposed to be like.
Not missing them.
“Aurora,” she said stiffly. “I feel it’s my duty to talk to you about what I saw—who you’ve become.”
Shame tried to work its way through my insides, but I pushed that bitch back. Shame wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
