Page 30 of The Echo of Forever

The familiar scent of Lavender hit me as soon as I stepped through the door, calming me a little.

I found her in the study, a small room lined with shelves that held five generations of Cannon family history in leather-bound volumes and carefully preserved photographs.

She sat in her high-backed chair by the window, hands folded in her lap, while she watched the kids play out in the street.

“Seven months without a visit,” she started, cutting her eyes at me. “That’s a long time for an old woman to wait, Meechie.”

I crossed the room and bent to kiss her cheek. “I had things to take care of.”

She studied me with keen, knowing eyes.

“How did you celebrate your birthday?” I asked, changing my tune.

A small smile softened her expression.

“Velma made too much fuss. The whole family gathered here. Oliver brought fireworks, which nearly gave your uncle a heart attack, but the kids loved it.”

She lifted her wrist, and the light caught the silver charm bracelet I’d sent.

“This was the best gift, though.”

I reached out to touch it. Each pendant held the initials and birthdates of all her grandchildren.

There were only five of us.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s beautiful.” She twisted it on her wrist, then looked up. “I’m concerned for you.”

Before I could respond, my aunt appeared in the doorway with a tea tray.

“I thought you might want something warm to drink while you talk.”

My grandmother nodded her appreciation, then said, “Leave us. Meechie and I need to talk privately.”

Only she called me Meechie.

She hesitated, concern flickering across her face, before setting down the tray and withdrawing.

“Arland tells me you’re making very specific moves. That you believe your mother might still be alive.”

“You think I’m wrong?”

“I think you need all the facts before you start a war that could destroy everything we’ve built.” She reached for one of the cups of tea. “I don’t want to convince you not to do what you’ve set your mind to. But if you’re going to do it, there’s something you should know.”

The seriousness in her voice made me lean forward. “About my ma?”

She nodded.

“Your mother wasn’t just a regular society girl.” Her fingers traced the rim of her teacup. “Before meeting and marrying your father, she changed her name to Aurelia Samuels to escape the Collective’s reach.”

I kept my expression neutral despite the tightening in my chest.

“And before that?”

“She was born Soleme Fairchild.”

Fairchild.