Page 70 of This Blood that Bonds Us

“Mind if I try?” I murmured, so as not to startle her.

“Of course. Here.” Vera wiped her hands on her pant legs and handed me the axe.

It would have been heavy for me before, but I could hold it with one arm now. I tested the weight while Vera watched in amusement.

“Was it hard for you? The change . . .”

I grabbed a piece of dried wood and wiped off the stump before placing it down.

“It’s been great, actually. Not expected, but I figure I’ve probably had it better than most of the boys.” At least I chose it.

I swung the axe, and the entire chopping block split in two, leaving the axe wedged into the hard ground. I needed to work on pressure.

“I’m still getting used to it.” I dislodged the axe in one pull.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. How it might have felt for all of them, including you.”

I tried to piece together the remnants of the chopping block so I could try again.

“I think Zach and Luke had it the worst. They were tricked. I can’t really imagine what they went through together.”

“I’m just glad they had each other, I supposed. That always seemed to be what they both wanted the most growing up. They shared rooms and toys, even clothes at one point. Since they were teeny tiny, they were on their own planet. The most chaotic toddlers running around getting into trouble together—and oh, how they lied and covered for each other.”

“They’re still like that.” I laughed.

I thought long and hard on the version of them that I knew and the one their mother knew. Two bright-eyed children ready for the world but poisoned under her nose. She never knew.

“I wanted to save them from this. I didn’t even know how or what. They wouldn’t tell me, no matter how hard I begged or punished them. I could tell they were scared . . . but they wouldn’t tell me why. You must think I’m a terrible mother.”

I stopped to look at her.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to worry about me judging you. I don’t have a mother. She didn’t even bother to try to take care of me. I think you’ve done a great job. Being a mom is . . . really hard I’ve heard.”

I couldn’t imagine her life. Four kids—the Calem brothers at that—and taking care of her mother. All the while still making time for her career that required everything from her. I didn’t know how she’d found the energy.

“Oh, hunny.” She squeezed my shoulder. “There was room for improvement. I can’t believe I accepted their stories when they’d tell me they were picking up groceries from their school’s food drive. Or that they had part-time jobs mowing lawns, and that’s how they’d somehow have an extra twenty dollars to help with bills. I never asked, and I didn’t talk about money, but they knew. It was hard as a single mother . . . but I supposed that’s my fault for letting their father back into my life so many times. I was young . . . I thought I loved him. And if I hadn’t, I’d have never had Aaron and Presley.”

I shuddered at the thought of them not existing. Those two were my life.

“If I could go back, I would have asked. I would have moved when I realized things were dangerous.”

“The Family would have killed you if you’d moved. It’s not your fault this happened. We’re going to fix this. We’ll bring them home.”

“You’re so much braver than I ever was.”

Vera’s stories of the twins lingered in the chill of the air. We needed something solid this time. The dagger would show me something. I’d make sure of it.

“Are you ready?” Aaron asked, his hair was fluffier than normal and growing longer at the sides. “Mom, I told you to let me do the firewood.”

“Don’t worry. Us girls got it just fine.” Vera winked at me.

I set the wood down and swung again. This time, I focused on the muscles in my biceps and my forearm. I’d give it only twenty-five percent effort.Gentle.

The wood split in the blink of an eye, and the axe handle with it.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I held up the splintered wood. I’d need to try ten percent next time.

Aaron grabbed the axe handle from me with a relaxed smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll get a new one.”