Ivy jumped forward, trying to snatch the book from me.
I retreated, my temper in my throat and ears.
“Adora, give it to me.” The blue vein in Ivy’s forehead popped, and she launched at me again, taking me to the floor. “Mom’s already gone, Adora. She’s gone. She left us. She leftyou!”
“No.” I pushed her off, but she grabbed my hair and yanked me backward.
I bit back a yelp and took a fistful of her hair.
Physical violence. This was what it had come to. The Panic had turned us into two hysterical adults, rolling around on the floor, fingers in each other’s hair, claws tearing at each other’s clothes. We were acting like children with madness in our blood.
I suppose we both reached our breaking point, and the lack of sleep was bringing us to insanity.
Ivy hovered over me on all fours and slapped the wooden floor. “You need to give up on her. Of all people, do you honestly believe she cares when you visit? Then you had the audacity to hide her book in Town Square. Mom’s words don’t deserve to be read.” Ivy breathed hard, then tried again to pry the book from my grip. “Give it up. She’s not coming back.”
“You’re upset,” I told her, trying to use the heel of my foot to keep her at a distance. “You’re upset about Cyrus and taking it out on me.”
Finally, Ivy let me go. The two of us tried to catch our breaths. Then seconds passed, and she became weak, sliding off me and rolling onto her back on the floor.
I crawled backward until my spine hit the wall beneath her window, and a cold draft slipped through the frame, burning a cut to my chest.
I pinned a glare at her, my breath coming out ragged. “I hope it’s the Shadows because if not, whatever this thing is between you and Cyrus makes you crazy.”
“Don’t you dare. You know nothing about Cyrus and me.”
I laughed, my temper heated. “You just attacked me over a book.”
She covered her face with her hands and started crying. “I’ve tried,” she whispered through her tears. “I’ve tried so hard, but it’s pointless. You must ruin everything good because a part of you is just like Mom.”
“You’vetried hard?” I asked, my voice straining in my throat, my cheeks burning. “Every day, I’m the one who has to keep this family pushing forward. Every day, I’m the one who must pick up all the pieces she left behind. I work my butt off to keep money coming in because Augustine’s too scared to send Dad out on the boat.” I slammed the book down next to me, and a cloud of dust exploded. “Fable’s paintings don’t feed us. You do the laundry and cook dinner and sweep the floor but none of it pays the dues. Every day, I’m making dresses until my fingers fall off, keeping us afloat, and I still find a way to care for Momevery daybecause we can’t give up on her. And I’m the one whoruinseverything? Shame on me, Ivy. Shame on me for not being ready to give up.” Another angry laugh sputtered out of me. “What if it were you, Fable, or me stuck in that bed? Don’t forget, I watched what the coven did to her all those years ago. You didn’t. You couldn’t!”
Ivy looked at me, her gaze ablaze. Like the oceans in her eyes were on fire. “If it were one of us, that would be different, and you know it.”
“Really? How so?”
“Because you two are worth fighting for,” she whispered. Then her voice steadily inclined. “She’s gone, and it’s for the best. She left us with this useless book to say goodbye because ... Mom knew she was leaving us, and now she’s gone.” She paused, and I found myself digging my nails into the book. “She made her choice. She doesn’t get to say goodbye to you.” She pointed to the book. “Not like this. Not in a damn book.”
My splinter throbbed, easing my breathing. “You do not get to decide when and where and how Mom says goodbye. That’s hers, not yours.” I instantly thought of Lena, and how her choice of a farewell could be ripped away from her, too. “Just because you choose to spend this time hating her doesn’t mean I want to. To you, she’s gone. But to me, she’s downstairs, alive and breathing.”
Ivy climbed to her feet, looking down at me. “Why can’t you see what she’s doing to you? She’s not even conscious, and she still has a sick hold on you. She should just die already.”
Then her eyes opened wide, shock paralyzing her for a heartbeat.
Her truth seemed as if she’d punched herself in the face.
Another tear left Ivy’s eye, and she quickly wiped it. “Did you even read the book?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “No, I’ve never read it.”
I never had the courage to read it before.
Ivy’s smile was faint. “Then keep it. Read the book for all I care. Maybe then we can open the debate on whether she wrote that book to say goodbye. Because who knows, she could have in her own twisted way. Unless, of course, you’re even more scared to find out the same truth the rest of us already know.” She took a step away, but an incredulous laugh buckled under her breath when she whipped back around. “You know, Augustine, the coven, they all did us a favor. She’s not the problem anymore.”
She was entirely wrong, but then she was gone.
