“He can’t eat that,” I said faintly. “There’s at least three things in that dessert that are poisonous to dogs.”
“It’s either this, or a litter of fresh-born kittens, Susan,” the professor said merrily. “He’s a hellhound. Tiramisu or kittens. You decide.”
“Erm. I guess he can eat it.”
He nodded towards the bucket. “Go on, Bonbon. Cough it up.”
The hound bent his head, and hacked, coughed, hacked again, and spat up a huge, glittery blue object. It clattered into the bucket.
“Good boy.” He reached in and picked up the stone.
A low chime rang through the room, a strange, otherworldly vibration, almost like a song with no sound and no words. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I shivered as the magic punched through me. The stone was spellbinding, a whole realm’s worth of magical curiosity and inquisition.
The professor held the glittering clear blue crystal in his hand. It was as big as his head, with a million facets reflecting the light back in an almost eerie way—not quite a rainbow but a dazzling prism of color from outside the spectrum. “This is the scribe stone, Susan.”
“Really?” My voice sounded breathless. The atmosphere was too intense. I had to bring it down a little. “I assumed it was one of Bonbon’s chew toys.”
“The stone of the Elonn fae gives and takes,” he said, ignoring me. “It gives us the power to know the truth. Truth is a journey, so we give knowledge as payment. Before you hold the stone, you need to speak your truth.”
“I— I—” My heart hammered wildly. “You want me to tell… the truth?”
He nodded. “It is part of the journey. Your journey, Susan. You can’t go any further until you speak it.”
Suddenly, I understood. A jolt of terror rushed through me.
I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to. I’d lost so much already. My memories were all I had left.
Donovan appeared next to me, moving so fast I didn’t see. Or maybe I was so scared, my vision had tunneled. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder.
I felt him grounding me. Holding me to the earth, holding me in place.
I swallowed. “What truth do you need?”
“Start from the start,” the professor said, his voice soft, compassionate. “Tell me when it began.”
Chapter
Twenty
“I’ve always been so sure of myself,” I whispered. My lips felt numb. “So certain of how life works. And I was always so good with people, right from the start. I was student body president in elementary school, middle school and high school. Susan Moore, the leader, the manager—it was always my reputation. If there was a group project, I was in charge, because when I was in charge, everyone was happy.
“It wasn’t about being bossy, though. You can’t impose your will on people and expect them to be happy. I just always knew how to arrange things, so everyone got what they wanted. Even my dad, who drifted in and out of my life like a leaf blowing through the revolving doors of a hotel lobby…” I hesitated and took a deep breath. My chest felt too tight.
Donovan and the Professor waited patiently.
After a moment, I went on. “I accept people for who they are, and I understand them—that’s the key to good management. Back then, life felt like a breeze. I started climbing the corporate ladder, and I found it easy. Find out what people want and give it to them. And if you can’t, thengently nudge them in another direction. Manage expectations. It was easy. Then… then I met Vincent.”
My breath hitched. “It was like meeting a shooting star as it blazed across the sky. He was unpredictable, blindingly handsome, dazzlingly talented. And… And I lost my mind. He loved me so much; all common sense went out the window. I felt like we were twin flames. Soulmates. Me, the practical level-headed manager, him, the haphazard, volatile artist.”
I smiled sadly. “I managed to get an insane mortgage so I could buy Bayview Cottage—it’s one of the oldest houses in the whole city, and it was always my dream to live in a slice of history. Vincent moved in with me, and we got married right there in the front garden, overlooking the water. Vincent wanted to have kids straight away, but he also knew that I needed to cement myself as an executive, so we put it off for a couple of years. Then, we put it off again, because my salary by that time was enormous, and we needed the money for the mortgage and for Vincent’s studio. His parents had cut him off when we got married. I thought it was romantic that he married me anyway. It showed how much he loved me.”
My vision wobbled; I blinked back the tears. “Nobody knew that he was disinherited. Vincent said he was embarrassed, so I didn’t tell anyone. Everyone assumed that he was the rich one in our relationship because his parents are so wealthy, but the truth is, he came to me with nothing. I don’t know why, but his parents always hated me.” I pressed my lips together. “I assumed it was because they’re very conservative, and the idea of their only son marrying a career girl was embarrassing for them. I didn’t want Vincent to be emasculated any further, so I kept it a secret.”
The professor stepped closer to me. The scribe stone shone brighter. Some of the pressure on my chest eased asthe words spilled out of me. “When I turned thirty-eight, I was vice president of my company. Only one step away from senior vice president, but I knew my time was running out. I went off the pill, expecting to fall pregnant quickly, because my life had been so easy so far. But…” I shook my head sadly. “Nothing happened. Two years went by, and I got my period every month like clockwork.”
My throat tightened. “I went to a doctor, then a specialist, then a fertility expert. All of them told me that nothing was wrong. Vincent got checked, but nothing was wrong with him, either. All the time, I had to smile and nod when anyone asked me if we were having kids. The questions got more invasive. People went from being curious to downright rude.When are you having kids, Susan?turned intoWhen will you give Vincent a child?I felt like a defective vending machine.”
My vision shimmered, as my eyes filled with tears again. Desperately, I blinked them back. Oh, God, I was going to cry. “These days, there are so many influential women speaking out about their choice to be child free. And I respect them so damn much.” My voice hitched. “But… but that wasn’t me. I always wanted to have kids. I wanted to be pregnant; I wanted to feel life growing inside me. The wanting became like a desperation. It nagged at me like a thorn in my side I couldn’t tug free.” I smiled sadly. “Vincent told me to relax. He was always telling me to relax. I was forty by then. When people asked me about kids—and they asked constantly—I didn’t say I didn’t want them, because I don’t like lying.”
