Page 48 of Lost Echoes

Leaves crunch behind me, sounding harsh in the quiet. I whirl, breath caught.

Nothing. Just shadows between the trees.

I force myself to turn back, but my pulse won’t settle. I can’t shake the feeling that someone or something is following.

By the time I make it back to the mansion porch, my chest aches from holding in too much. Ember’s silhouette is in the window, her hand pressed to the glass, watching for me.

I pause at the steps, staring up.

She trusts me. Luke wants the truth from me.

And I’m standing here drowning in it, unable to speak.

I stand frozen on the porch, staring at Ember’s hand against the glass. My throat aches with everything I haven’t said. Running won’t silence it. Pretending won’t erase it.

If I don’t tell them, it’ll kill me from the inside out. I draw a shaky breath and turn toward the door.

The hallway feels too bright, too exposed, as I climb the spiral stairs. My legs are heavy, each step an effort, but somehow I make it back to Ember’s room.

They’re both there. Ember’s pacing. Luke’s seated at the desk with his arms folded tight. The air is thick and charged.

I stop in the doorway. “I need to tell you something.”

They both look at me. Ember’s face softens immediately. Luke’s stays guarded.

I step inside, shutting the door behind me. My hands knot together, cold and clammy. “I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. But… you’re right. You need the truth. All of it.”

Luke leans forward, his voice low but steady. “Then start where you can. Whatever it is, we’re all on the same side.”

Ember takes a step closer. She studies me, concern evident in her eyes. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone.”

The words crack something inside me. I sink down onto the edge of the bed, my chest tight.

“I’ll tell you,” I whisper. “But you have to understand it’s difficult. Saying it makes it… real.”

The silence afterward is unbearable. My pulse thuds in my ears.

There’s no turning back.

The words claw their way up my throat. I want to swallow them back down, to bury them where no one can touch them, but Luke’s gaze is sharp and Ember’s steady, and I know there’s no hiding anymore.

“I saw her,” I choke out.

“Who?” Ember asks gently.

“My… mother.” The syllables scrape raw on the way out. “She was there. In Radley. In the underground.”

Silence crashes over the room. Ember’s mouth falls open, her brow knitting like she can’t quite process what I’ve said. Luke, though, goes rigid, his jaw clenching as the weight of it sinks in.

I grip the edge of the bed so hard my knuckles ache. “She had nothing to do with it. I thought she was just… normal. Ordinary. But I saw her with my own eyes. Going through files like she belonged there. Like she’d always been there.”

My stomach squeezes so tight I’m not sure I can survive it. What if my mom brought all of this to the Brannons? What if we’re implicated in all of this more than they are? If we’re behind all of Kenzi’s pain? Maybe even the death of Claire?

I can’t live with any of that.

Ember’s voice is a whisper. “Billa…”

“I ran,” I admit, my voice breaking. “Didn’t wait for her to see me. I couldn’t. If she looked at me… if she knew what I saw, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”