Eira made the choice to gloss over certain elements that pertained to Adela. Everything she said was more or less true…as true as they needed to know.
“What matters is that all of us are all right.” There were those words again, said softly, as if she were speaking to a child. Eira shifted her grip and lifted her mother’s face to give her an encouraging smile, feeling like the roles were reversed. “Did you find Uncle?”
Reona shook her head, withdrawing a hand to stifle a sob.
“We tried, but we didn’t see him,” Herron said.
“I’m sure he’s all right,” she offered, sounding more confident than she felt. There was nothing guaranteed, but… “If we all could manage to survive, then I’m sure he could, too.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Reona smiled, brighter and more hopeful than she should be…but Eira wasn’t about to diminish that flame. Instead, she smiled back and said nothing as her mother continued to speak. “It’s such a relief to see you here—to know you’re safe.”
“Is it?” Eira couldn’t stop the words from escaping. She’d been doing so well. But they slipped out.
“Of course it is.” Reona’s eyes went wide. “How could you ever think otherwise?”
“You weren’t overly concerned with my safety after Marcus.” Her words had more of a chill than she would’ve otherwise wanted. But there was no going back now. For all she wantedpeace—and part of her did yearn for it—Alyss was right; this was better settled.
“Eira—” Herron began.
She cut him off with a look. “Don’t take that tone with me.” Her mother drew away, aghast. Her shock turned Eira’s chill into a deep freeze. “Don’t speak to me as if I am a child acting out.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” He frowned.
“No. I am trying to speak with you both about how you wounded me. I needed you then. I needed you after. And you weren’t there.”
“We were mourning.” Reona stood. “Our only son had died.”
“And your daughter was still alive.”Unless you never saw me that way?She couldn’t bring herself to ask the question. Even after all this time, all she’d been through and learned. It was too much. “I needed you,” she repeated, more desperate than the last. “I was alone, and scared. I blamed myself every second of every minute of every hour of every day for his death.”
“We’re sorry.” Reona sat heavily back on the bed. Even though she said the words Eira had been hoping to hear, they didn’t quite feel the way she’d been hoping they’d feel. It didn’t alleviate the tension that had knotted between her shoulders from the moment she’d entered. “I could barely eat. Barely function… What could I have done for you?”
“Been there for me,” Eira answered, even though she suspected the question was rhetorical. “I know I wasn’t, in many ways, the daughter you wanted, but—” Herron opened his mouth to speak. Eira held up a hand to stop him. “Let’s be honest with each other, shall we? I’m not a child any longer. I know the truth about everything.”
“Everything?” Reona whispered softly. Eira wondered if her mind had gone to Adela. To the mysterious symbol that had been pinned to Eira’s breast as a babe and had somehow, ina way her birth mother could’ve never imagined, set in motion Eira’s destiny.
“Everything,” Eira repeated, allowing them to think what they would about the context of the word. “I know the two of you did the best you could. But there were times where it wasn’t enough. Times where all I wanted was the same support I saw you give to Marcus and yet I never got it. I was left to feel second, unworthy, and at times unloved.”
The moment she said those words, Eira felt lighter. She could sit a little taller and breathe a little easier.
“Of course we loved you.” Herron’s face flushed with offense. “We took you in, raised you—we braved the seas to see you compete and to cheer you on.”
“I’m grateful for those things,” Eira said. “I am. But there were times that I needed so much more and I saw it was in your ability to give. I just wasn’t worthy of the effort.” Eira stood, sensing the conversation was reaching its end. She crossed over to her mother, who looked up in shock as Eira leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently. As if Reona were the child. “But, despite all that…I do love you both. I know you did the best you could with what you were handed—with who you are.”
“Eira,” her mother whispered, clutching for her hand as if to hold her there. Clinging to what might be their last moment together. Maybe a part of her still clung to the girl Eira had once been. Back when they all still had a chance at being a real family.
Eira smiled faintly. “I’ll make sure you get home all right.”
“What about you?” Reona asked.
“I have work to do,” Eira said solemnly. “I can’t go back to Solaris…probably not for some time. But, when I’m able, I will. And I will make it a point to see you both.”
She meant it, and perhaps they knew it too because their shocked stares shifted into what more closely resembled quiet resignation. Eira held out a hand to her father. He lookedbetween it and her face, searching. For a second, she thought he’d refuse her peace offering. But ultimately he took it and they shared a firm shake.
“Thank you for all you did do for me,” Eira said gently.
“We do love you,” Reona said, and Eira truly believed that she meant it.
“I know. Be safe, and be happy.” With that, Eira left them. She immediately heard another muffled sob, murmurs of her father. Hasty conversations. But they didn’t follow her down the stairs. Eira paused on the last step, looking up, wondering if they’d chase after her to beg her to come home. To scold her one last time.
