Sitting in Malik’s office, I stared blankly into space, struggling to process everything I had just read in my mother’s journal. My thoughts drifted like a leaf caught in a restless wind, eventually settling on the slightly ajar door.
Beyond it, Malik was somewhere in the house, caring for Rosie. Meanwhile, we were in here, our minds filled, our sense of reality shifting from what we’d learned.
And somehow, everything—everyone—was connected.
The wind outside howled, gaining force, mirroring the storm of emotions inside me. This vivid glimpse into my mother’s past affected me in ways I hadn’t expected. The pain, the fear—she had lived a tortured existence. But despite it all, her support for Balthazar and her desperate attempts to save him left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“What are you thinking?” Emily asked quietly, her fingers brushing against my hand.
I blinked, pulling myself back to the present.
“I’m thinking Mom’s life was a disaster. I’m thinking I still don’t like or trust her. I’m thinking…” I rubbed a hand over my forehead. “I’m thinking. I don’t know what to think.”
Emily’s expression tightened. “How can you still not like her? A madman possessed her. A demon.” The dim light in the room cast shadows across her face, deepening the bruised look in her eyes. Then, after a beat, she frowned. “Actually… I don’t like her now, either.”
She shuddered, her limbs trembling like a dog shaking off water. “Balthazar,” she whispered, her face crumpling.
She didn’t need to say anything else.
“Exactly,” I muttered. “Mom, of all people, had the power to kill Balthazar. She knew him intimately. She must have known his weaknesses.”
Lee had always taught me to look for a person’s vulnerabilities.
Exploit them, and you control the game.
If you knew someone’s weaknesses, however slight, you had the power to destroy them, he often said. And then, almost as an afterthought, he’d add that you also have the power to heal them.
But I didn’t want to think about that part.
Balthazar was a hideous, foul, irredeemable monster who must be wiped out—no two ways about it.
Still, I couldn’t shake the question—why had my mother wanted to save him? What possible quality, buried beneath his cruelty, had moved her so profoundly? It didn’t make sense. Not when this was the same man who had assaulted me, who had stolen my unborn child. The same man who had nearly cost Roman his life.
There wasn’t a shred of evidence to justify his continued existence.
“Are you wondering what I’m wondering?” Emily asked softly.
I twirled a strand of hair around my finger. “I don’t know. Are you wondering why Mom chose to save a monster? Because monsters can’t be saved.”
A familiar voice interrupted us.
“No, darling,” Malik said as he glided through the door. “Monsters can be saved.”
I jerked at his sudden appearance, my pulse spiking. I still didn’t understand how he moved so silently, like a cat prowling in the dark.
His expression was unreadable. “Even the darkest of the dark can change.”
I blinked a few times, forcing myself to register his presence. “Are you talking about yourself? Because if you’re referring to Balthazar, we must agree to disagree.”
I stood, stretching my stiff back.
Malik studied me for a long moment, then smiled faintly. “You must be tired. And I have things to do here.” His tone shifted, smooth and practiced—like a perfect host steering the conversation away from dangerous waters. “Why don’t you two head to bed, hmm?”
It was a neat evasion.
“Oh! We’re sorry for taking up so much time in your office,” Emily said, springing to her feet.
Malik waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I wanted you to finish the journal. And now, I need my office back.”
