When she stepped forward to embrace me, I didn’t stop her, didn’t push her away and groan as I usually would. I was anadult, twenty-one years old, but there would always be things one needed their mother for, and grief was one of them.
“I’m so sorry, dear”, she whispered into my hair. The pity in her tone drew me out of my reverie. I pushed away, sniffling and wiping my eyes. “You’re dressed, at least. Sophie said you were still in your pajamas when she dropped by.”
I nodded, not really listening. I glanced at the clock.
My mother raised a brow.
“Going somewhere?” she asked. Of course she would notice. She knew me better than perhaps anyone outside of Darius.
I raised my chin and cleared my throat, preparing myself for the impending argument.
“I have to work,” I told her and then I strode away and began straightening the mess that had become my living room after a week of wallowing in self-pity. Dishes piled up with old, rotting food still on top of them, dirty clothes I’d haphazardly tossed off my body when I finally made my way to the shower, other bits of trash I’d simply dropped and not had the energy to pick up again. “Then I’m going to the eleventh.”
“Why?” Her tone held a low warning.
“Because that’s where you sign up for the Trials.”
It was as if I’d sucked every ounce of air out of the room. I was certain my mother wasn’t breathing. She shook her head slowly, her auburn, shining hair that always had a sleekness I’d envied and which she shared with my oldest brother, Maurice, shifting about her shoulders. Her sparkling amber eyes, a perfect match with mine, narrowed in barely restrained rage. The soft light of my dimmed apartment hit her ivory skin and illuminated her furious expression.
“I thought we talked about this.”
“We did.” I shrugged. “You told me how badly you want me to forego taking the oath, living in fear for the rest of my life in order to lessen my chances of being Culled. But those rules don’tapply anymore. Darius and all the others that got Culled last week hadn’t entered the Trials. It didn’t save them.”
“It’s not just that, and you know it, Adrian. The Trials themselves are deadly. Warren only passed the first one and he’s never been the same.”
“That’s Warren.”
“Adrian, please, think about this. Once you take the Oath, it can’t be undone. Maybe you should talk to your brother first. If he could tell you about what happened to him—”
“He can’t. And you know that. He couldn’t tell me even if he wanted to because of the damn Oath. And I wouldn’t ask him to. I know that you’re worried but I’ve made up my mind. I’m doing this.”
“Adrian, I don’t understand why—”
“I promised him.”
My voice came out quiet, a mere whisper, but my mother’s lips snapped shut. The sorrow returned to her gaze as her glare softened to pity.
“I promised him I’d take the Oath a long time ago. I promised we would compete together. And even though he can’t now, even though he’s gone…I-I just—it’s the only way I have left to honor him.”
She didn’t argue with me, didn’t beg and plead with me to reconsider, didn’t try to guilt me into avoiding the Trials. But her bottom lip quivered as she turned away and her hands shook as she reached for the door handle.
“At least come have something to eat before you go,” she said quietly.
“Maybe.”
She tensed but relented with a nod, then opened the door to my apartment and was gone.
The Oathtaking wasn’t until tonight. I had plenty of time before it, enough so that I’d accepted a job when Cyrus himselfhad come to offer it just yesterday afternoon. I’d tried to ignore the pity in his gaze and the way he watched me too carefully as I stood in my doorway, hair wild and sweatpants stained, the way he avoided any mention of Darius as if he’d never existed. That had made me angry but not angry enough to deny the job. I needed the money if I was going to have any chance of keeping the apartment. And the only reason I still had my employment with House Valin was because the heir had gone out of his way to ensure it, despite the time I’d taken away.
I should have thanked him. But I didn’t.
I’d need to find a new roommate too, eventually. The landlord would be breathing down my neck about the late payment soon enough but I couldn’t bring myself to look. I couldn’t replace him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I went to the bathroom and took a shower before dressing myself in the usual uniform. Black skirt, tights, white button up blouse, black blazer and matching heels. When I finally tackled my hair, I grew so frustrated that I ended up leaning forward, bracing myself with hands on either side of the counter, breathing deeply and trying not to cry. Again.
I managed to maintain my composure long enough to wrangle my hair into a passable high ponytail before making my way out of my apartment and down to the door below. Holding my arm up in front of my eyes to shield them from the harsh morning light I’d avoided all week, I stepped into the outside world and glanced sideways to see a pair of Fellowship officers standing nearby. They scanned the crowds making their way to their morning shifts or chores, mouths set in a grim line, hands on the clubs that always hung on their hips. They reminded me of the Culling, the ceremony they would have dragged Darius to without a second thought or ounce of remorse, and I nearly headed back into my apartment. But I steeled myself against my grief and took one step forward, then another. I focused on mybreathing as my nails pressed half-moon prints into my palms in my clenched fists.
I would never forget the moment Darius stepped into that swirling darkness and was gone forever. I hadn’t been able to think about anything else since. But I could forget it today. I could forget it for now. For just this morning, I could get through one shift, one oath, before returning to that moment as I imagined I always would. I could have one day of peace before running back to my apartment and the grief that awaited me there. And, if not, at least I could tell myself I would.
