Page 15 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)

Marigold

The Human Realm

* * *

T he afternoon sun streamed through the window when my eyes opened again, making the entire room glow with warmth and stillness.

The light had shifted since I'd fallen asleep, painting everything in golden hues that should have been comforting but somehow felt oppressive instead.

My clothes clung to my skin uncomfortably, and I could feel beads of moisture along my hairline.

I got up and tidied myself in the bathroom, feeling hot and sweaty and out of sorts.

My reflection in the mirror looked pale and drawn, with dark circles under my eyes that spoke of more than just an afternoon nap.

How could it only be afternoon? The events of the morning felt like they'd stretched across days, each revelation and realization weighing heavier than the last. It felt like I'd been here for days.

Years, even. Time had become elastic, stretching and contracting in ways that made no sense.

As I brushed my hair and put myself to rights—I was sure to be summoned again, and surprised I hadn't been already—I thought about everything that had happened.

The broken necklace, the destroyed room that was supposed to look like a struggle, the press conference downstairs with its carefully orchestrated drama.

Every piece of evidence pointed to the same conclusion, no matter how much Mother wanted to spin it differently.

The more I considered it all, the more I felt sure I was right.

She'd actually done it. Calyx had seen an opportunity to escape this suffocating house, this dysfunctional family, this whole mess of expectations and disappointments, and grabbed it with both hands.

The planning must have taken weeks, maybe months.

The careful selection of which clothes to take, the timing of her departure, even the manipulation of getting me here to provide the perfect cover story.

That must have been why she'd insisted I come here last night instead of staying at my place.

With every moment that passed, I felt surer that it was deliberate.

If she had disappeared while at my apartment, Mother would never forgive me.

It would be a catastrophe of epic proportions, the kind of scandal that would follow me for the rest of my life.

Calyx knew that Mother would need to spin this disappearance, to control the narrative and manage the political fallout.

And she knew that if she'd been with me, away from Mother's sphere of influence and careful staging, it would be impossible to maintain the kidnapping story.

It would be worse for me—much worse. I'd be blamed for not protecting her, for being a bad influence, for somehow facilitating her escape.

And yet, despite knowing all of this, despite understanding exactly how it would affect me, she left anyway.

Thanks a lot, Calyx .

The bitter thought landed like a slap, followed immediately by a wave of guilt. She was seventeen, for God's sake. She had every right to want out of this toxic environment. I should be proud of her for having the courage to leave, not resentful that she'd found a way to do what I'd never managed.

Oh, my God.

I realized with a jolt that cut straight through me that I was jealous.

I was actually deeply and fully jealous that my little sister had broken away.

It was something I had never been able to do, despite years of wanting to, despite moving across town and trying to build a separate life.

Believe me, I'd tried. I'd gotten my own apartment, my own space, my own routines that had nothing to do with the Blaine family expectations.

But moving across town had been harder than I'd expected because I always came back.

It was so pathetically sad when I really thought about it.

I never found acceptance at home, never felt like I truly belonged or was wanted, yet I kept coming back like some kind of masochistic moth drawn to a flame that would only burn me.

I kept returning, just to see if anything had changed, if maybe this time Mother would look at me with something other than disappointment or indifference.

I wondered, now that Calyx had gone and severed that last tie that kept me tethered to this place, if I could truly change that pattern. Could I finally detach myself completely? Could I stop caring whether they approved of me or not?

Here I was, twenty-one years old and still unable to separate myself from the family that had made it clear I wasn't really wanted. Since graduating with my degree from magical college, I’d planned to use a gap year to figure out what was next.

And now, instead of putting my energy toward building my future, toward figuring out what I wanted from life beyond their expectations, I was sulking in my sister's room, envious of a teenager who'd had the guts to do what I couldn't.

I had to admit, beneath the jealousy, I was also more than a little hurt.

The abandonment stung in ways I hadn't expected.

I think the reason I'd never been able to leave completely, the invisible chain that kept pulling me back to this house and this family, was because I didn't want to leave Calyx behind.

She'd been my anchor in this place, the one person who saw me and cared about me unconditionally.

Even when everything else felt hostile and unwelcoming, I'd had her.

She'd been my reason for staying, for enduring Mother's coldness and Father's indifference.

I'd told myself I was protecting her, being there for her, making sure she wasn't alone in dealing with the family dynamics.

And now she was the one who'd left me.

She'd left me behind without a second thought, without even a proper goodbye.

It was as though she'd run with all her might, pumping arms and racing legs, careening down the platform to grab the departing train at the last moment before it pulled away from the station.

I could picture her so clearly in my mind—waving and smiling at me as she rode off into the distance, finally free, completely oblivious to my feelings or the fact that she'd abandoned me to face this family alone.

I probed my feelings like a tongue finding a sore tooth, and discovered that beneath the jealousy and hurt, I felt abandoned in the most fundamental way.

She'd left me alone with them, discarded me as easily as she'd discarded our necklaces’ shared protection spell.

After all the years of being each other's allies in this house, she'd chosen to save herself and leave me to sink or swim on my own.

I exhaled a shaky breath, my hands trembling slightly as I gripped the edge of Calyx's dresser.

I was not going to cry, damn it. I was not going to fall apart over this.

I'd been taking care of myself in this family long before Calyx was old enough to understand what was happening, and I could do it again.

I scanned the room again, taking in the evidence of her hasty packing, the careful chaos she'd created to cover her tracks. How could she just leave like this? How could she walk away from everything—from me—without even trying to explain or ask me to come with her?

The room felt suddenly over-warm, the afternoon sun beating through the windows and making the air thick and stuffy.

My eyes grew heavy despite the emotional turmoil churning in my chest. I yawned, feeling the stress of the day pulling at me like a riptide, dragging me back toward sleep.

My body was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster, and part of me desperately wanted to escape into unconsciousness.

I needed a break from all of this—from the hurt and anger and confusion, from the sounds of the press and police still going on downstairs, from the weight of realizing that everything I'd thought I knew about my relationship with my sister might have been an illusion.

Anything to get away from this ridiculous nightmare and my own dark emotions, even for just a little while.

Mindful of what the attorney had told me earlier about keeping Aunt Beatrice's gift private, I tucked the wooden box under the blankets where it couldn't be seen if someone came looking for me.

The box felt warm against my fingers, almost alive somehow, and I wondered again what secrets it might contain.

I grabbed Calyx's pillow and buried my face in it, inhaling the familiar scent of her—that expensive shampoo she loved, the vanilla body lotion she used every night, and underneath it all, the indefinable smell that was just uniquely her.

I let myself drift off to sleep again, clutching the pillow like a lifeline.

If someone needed me, Mother would send a servant to find me.

Until then, I was safe in this cocoon of afternoon sunlight and familiar scents, even if everything else in my world was falling apart.