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“What?” I asked him.
“I was just realizing how much our daughter takes after you.”
“Why? Because I eat off the floor?”
“Well,” said Harker, “there was that one time there were brownies in the New York office?—”
I cut him off. “No one needs to hear that story.”
“Actually, I think we all need to hear that story,” Zane argued.
Tessa and Gin nodded along in agreement.
But Bella stared down at her plate, just like she’d been doing all evening. She hadn’t eaten a bite. Hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t even looked at anyone.
I’d hoped a nice family dinner and some banter would lift her spirits, but no such luck. She was too busy blaming herself for things that were absolutely not her fault.
“Bella, you should eat something,” Calli said gently. “You need to keep up your strength.”
For the first time since dinner began, Bella spoke. “Why? So I can hurt even more people?”
That smothered all the smiles at the table.
But Calli’s smile quickly returned. “Who’s hungry for dessert?” she said brightly. “I made marble cake.”
My hand shot into the air. I didn’t even need to tell it what to do.
Zane, Gin, and Tessa had their hands up as well. Even Nero and Harker had joined in. But Bella just buried her face in her hands.
Calli brought her some dessert anyway. She also brought along cups of hot chocolate—and a can-do attitude. Before dinner had even begun, she and I had decided we were going to have a family brainstorming session. We were going to solve Bella’s problem together, as a family. A countdown was ticking inside my head. Faris’s deadline was fast approaching. A week wasn’t much time at all.
Nero and Harker carried spell books to the table.
“These books all focus on magical curses and how to counter them,” Harker said.
“The answer to our problem is sure to be in one of these!” I told Bella.
She didn’t return my smile.
Give her some time, Nero said in my mind. She’s been through a lot. She’s hurt people, people she really cares about. She’s drowning in guilt.
I can feel it too, I replied. But none of what happened is her fault. She wasn’t in control.
In some ways, that makes this all that much worse for her, he told me. She feels like a prisoner in her own body. And she doesn’t know what she’ll do next, the next time she loses control.
Then let’s fix this, so she never has to go through that again, I said, determined.
We will, he promised.
Thanks, Nero. You make everything better.
I do have that effect on people.
I smiled. There it is.
What?
That delectable Nero Windstriker arrogance.
