“You’re right,” she finally says.
I freeze. “What?”
“I said you’re right.” Her voice is broken. Filled with emotion. Nothing like the ice queen I know. “I’ve controlled your life. I told myself it was for your own good, that I knew better, that you needed guidance. But the truth is...”
She raises a shaking hand to smooth down the back of her hair.
“I was afraid. Afraid you’d make the same mistakes I did. Afraid you’d end up with nothing, like I had nothing before I married your father.”
“Mom—”
“I came from nothing, Marlowe. You know that.” She looks up at me, and?—
Holy shit.
Tears. There are actual tears in Cloris Briggs’s eyes.
“I built everything I have through sheer force of will, and I was terrified of watching you throw away all the opportunities I created for you.” Her voice cracks. “But I was wrong. You’re not me. You never were. And I should have let you find your own path.”
I don’t know what to say. This isn’t themother I know. This is someone vulnerable, soft even. I have no idea what to do with this version of my mom.
She’s giving signs of being…human.
“I’m done letting you control me.” My voice comes out quiet. Steady. “The ballet, the marriage, where I live, what I do. Those are my choices now. Mine.”
“I know.” She stands. Straightens her skirt. “And I’m sorry. For all of it.”
“It’s going to take more than sorry.”
“I know that too.” She hesitates. “But I’d like to try, if you’ll let me.”
She takes me by the arms and gives them a little squeeze, like she knows I’m not ready for hugs.
“I’d like that, too.”
It’s not forgiveness. Not yet.
But it’s a start.
“Roark’s been in contact with Ignacius Fuentes. Leon’s father.” Mom pauses. “Apparently, he’s... grateful that someone dealt with his son. He’s offered to negotiate with Cinco on your father’s behalf.”
“Grateful his son is dead?”
“Leon was an embarrassment to the family. A traitor who worked for a rival cartel.” Her mouth thins. “Ignacius couldn’t kill him himself. Declan mentioned some superstition about his dead wife’s spirit, but he’s definitely not mourning his son.”
Jesus. These people.
“So what happens to Daddy’s debt?”
“It transfers to Roja. A different kind of arrangement, but one that can be managed. It will be paid off over time with legitimate business dealings.” She pauses. “The immediate threat is over. Cinco won’t come after him anymore. After any of us. We’re safe.”
“So he can come home?”
“If he chooses to.” Her eyes drop. “Your father and I have a lot to work through. I don’t know if we can. But at least the danger is past.”
I nod. The relief should be overwhelming.
Instead, I just feel tired. So fucking tired.
