She waves a graceful hand between us, and the air grows thick with her power. Bright white vines appear around me. They snap and recede. I feel light and free.
“It is done. As of now, you are unbound. Although I must say, given the position I found you and Seven in, it seems you rather enjoyed your time together. You have a talent for this kind of work. I hope you’ll consider helping me again in the future of your own volition.”
Not likely. I glance down at my tangled fingers.
“Regardless, I’m happy things worked out and you’ve returned to Devashire. It seems your young Arden has already endeared herself to the staff at Bailiwick’s. I understand that her passport has been reinstated, and she is once again a US citizen, but we’d all like to see her call Devashire home. She belongs here, surrounded by family.”
My stomach clenches, and my eyes flick to the wall where the date is scrawled across a white board with my nurse’s name and my care itinerary. I’ve missed Arden’s first day of school. Holding back tears, I say, “Well, at least until she leaves for college.”
Godmother spreads her hands. “There are fine universities in Devashire too. Who knows, her talents might change our world. There’s never been anyone like her.” She stands to leave just as Arden and my parents appear in the doorway, overflowing with flowers and gifts.
I open my arms wide, and Arden rushes into them. I kiss the side of her head, anxious for her to tell me everything.
Over Arden’s shoulder, Godmother meets my eyes. “Goodbye, Sophia.”
I watch Godmother slip away, the realization that Arden and I are truly free settling over me with the warm, comforting hugs of the people I love.
ChapterThirty-One
Here’s the thing about luck… you don’t know if it’s good or bad until you have some perspective. ? Alice Hoffman
Three days later, I’m discharged from the hospital. My rib is still healing, but the rest of me is back to normal again thanks to plenty of luck and fae attention. The most bothersome part is the ache unrelated to my injuries. Seven didn’t come to the hospital. River came, as did Penelope. My family visited daily. But no Seven. He hasn’t called or texted. He hasn’t sent flowers.
Undeniably, he’s healing too, and as Godmother mentioned, he’s got a lot on his plate taking over the family business. I could make excuses for him. But I’m not doing that anymore. The truth is that Seven hasn’t carved out five minutes to check on my well-being. I wish that didn’t hurt, but it does.
Once I’m home, I shower and change into my most comfortable clothes and make myself a giant mug of tea. My parents can see I need rest and alone time, and so they take Arden shopping while Grandma stays with me. But even wrapped in one of Grandma’s knitted blankets in front of a roaring fire, I can’t seem to take any comfort. All I want to do is cry, but that warrior inside me refuses to let the tears fall. I’m not going to let him do this to me.
“I always knew you would take that bastard down one day,” Grandma says. She’s come from the kitchen and slides a plate of cookies onto the table beside me.
“Thanks, Grandma. I get it from you, you know.”
“Of course you do, honey. Kick-assery runs in our blood.” She sits down in the big chair next to the fire and picks up her knitting needles.
“What are you making?” The oddly shaped rectangle she’s knitting is bright purple and as wide as her arm.
“Isn’t it obvious? A scarf, dear, for Arden. I thought she could use one for school.”
I can’t hold back a laugh. “Grandma, that thing is wide enough for her to wear it as a cape.”
She holds the massive square up to the light and flutters her silver wings. “You’re right. I’m making a cape! I’ve never made a cape before. It’slovely.”
My new goal is to be as confident as Grandma when I grow up.
“Are we ever going to talk about Seven?” she says, her needles working again. “I’m an old woman, Sophia. I can’t wait forever.”
“What’s there to say? He hasn’t called or come to visit. Our job for Godmother is over, so…”
“Oh, but he did! He came to see you at the hospital.”
I almost spill my tea. I throw off my covers and scooch to her end of the sofa. “When? I don’t ever remember Seven coming to see me.” Did he come when I was knocked out on painkillers? Did I forget?
“That’s because he never made it to your room.” Grandma blinks at me over her knitting and flashes me a gossipy grin.
I grab a cookie from the plate and plug it into my mouth to keep from raising my voice at her. “Please explain,” I say around a mouthful.
“Well, he hobbled in the same day Godmother came to see you. We were all waiting in the hall, but I had to go to the restroom. You know when you’re my age, you always have to pee. So I went to that restroom by the nurse’s station. Did I tell you I knitted a cover for their phone?”
My fingers curl in frustration, and I hold my hands out to her, palms up, eyes to the heavens. “Grandma, when did you see Seven?”
