Page 84 of Gabriel

The wordhomelanded like a stone in my chest.

“Well… we haven’t exactly been roaming the world,” I said lightly. “Just Europe. Remember?”

It was a small lie, rehearsed and already worn smooth by repetition.

Her gaze sharpened. “Just Europe?”

“Yes,” I replied without flinching. “Europe is grand.” I said it with a smile—careless, casual, entirely fabricated.

She studied me for a moment, like she was listening not to my words but to what I wasn’t saying.

“What’s keeping you there? Are you thinking about moving to Europe?” she asked suddenly, panic in her voice evident with each spoken word. “Are your father’s connections tugging at you? That’s too far from me.”

There it was. Not suspicion, but her greatest, unspoken dread: that I would disappear. That I’d sever the thread and go where she couldn’t reach.

I felt the churning in my gut but I kept my features still, my voice calm.

“No, of course not,” I said. “Moving to Ireland hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

Her shoulders eased almost imperceptibly. Relief softened her expression, and for a moment she looked older. Tired. But also oddly at peace.

“Good,” she said. “You know how much I love you and?—”

She stopped, lips parting as if the next words were too heavy to speak aloud. She swallowed hard instead.

“I love you too,” I assured her. “I promise, I’m not moving away from the States.”

We stayed in silence for a moment. Then she gave a short nod, as if convincing herself everything was fine. That she still had some hold on me.

The call lingered another few minutes—her voice smoothing into calm, the way it always did when she felt in control. I offered reassurances, one after another, until her expression cleared completely. Until her peace of mind was restored.

Until the screen went blessedly dark.

I exhaled, pressing my palms to my thighs.

The kiss with Gabriel had unsettled me more than anything in the past month, and I’d had my share of excitement in that time.

Liana

Boston

The screen went dark, and for a long while, I just sat there, my fingers resting lightly against the control panel, my body still and perfectly composed. It was how the world knew me to be.

But inside?

I was unraveling.

Amara’s face lingered in my mind like a ghost, those perceptive eyes watching me too carefully, the corners of her mouth twitching with restraint. She was too poised, too polished.

Just like me when I was lying.

Just Europe,she had said.

It was a lie. I knew it. A mother always knew.

My phone buzzed and I wasn’t surprised to see Emory’s name flash on my screen.

I slid the message open and my suspicion was confirmed.