I’ve built walls around her life. Carefully curated lies, diagnoses, whispered excuses to teachers and medical staff. "Oh, she’s just sensitive." "A high-reactivity child." "Unusual, but not abnormal."
But I know the truth.
She is not like them.
Today, I sit in the headmistress’s office for the third time this semester. My back is stiff, my palms clammy. Chelsea sits beside me in her little uniform—scuffed shoes, hair undone, lower lip pouted like I taught her.
The door opens.
Ms. Elryn enters, clutching a bloodstained towel to her cheek.
“She bit me!” the woman sobs. “I was only trying to redirect her from—she—she just—lunged.”
“She didn’t mean it,” I say smoothly, pulling Chelsea into my lap. “She was frightened. You raised your voice. She’s very sensitive to tone.”
“She clawed me!” Elryn’s voice pitches up. “Her nails—her eyes were glowing!”
“She’s a child,” I say coldly. “And you’re exaggerating.”
Behind me, Chelsea whispers, “I didn’t mean to hurt her, Mommy.”
I kiss her forehead. “I know, baby.”
Ms. Elryn storms out, muttering about reporting me to the Board of Governors.
The headmistress says nothing.
She doesn’t have to. I already know we’re on borrowed time.
That night, I put Chelsea to bed with her favorite lullaby. She curls into my side, tiny fingers tangled in my nightdress. She’s warm, pulsing with life and power that’s becoming harder to hide.
“Mommy?” she asks sleepily. “Am I bad?”
“No, baby. Never.”
“But I hurt people.”
“Only when you’re scared. And I’m going to teach you how to control it.”
“Like Daddy?”
My heart skips. “Yes,” I whisper. “Like Daddy.”
Downstairs, Frederick is waiting in the study with a glass of brandy and his usual scowl.
“She attacked a teacher,” he says before I can even open my mouth.
“She defended herself.”
“She’s a child!”
“She’s Reaperborn.”
He slams the glass on the table. “I know what she is. And I’ve had enough of your fantasy. This child—this experiment—has gone too far.”
My spine stiffens. “She’s not an experiment. She’s a person. She’s our daughter.”
“She’s a liability.”
