“Her grandmother made it for her. So it is, I suppose.”
The stuffed rabbit Aelin carried wore a similar sweater, after she’d told Tate’s mother on a previous call that her babies were jealous of all her lovely clothes. The stuffed animals and dolls now had a wardrobe larger than Silva’s own. Tate had told her once that he’d been extremely spoilt as a child, and she believed it without reservation.
“Spider plants are what you want,” announced the sister who’d stepped away, returning with several hanging baskets. “Pothos are easy, but it will make the cat sick if it eats it. And these self-propagate, so you can turn your singular plant into a whole little family.”
“Gold star, mom,” the third sister, Thalita, told Silva, approaching carrying one of the flower crowns from her pile. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so thoroughly exposed as a stranger danger before. I don’t know if there are any advertisements up in Cevanorë for this weekend’s festival, but I hope the two of you get to enjoy it. Just in case you’re not able to make it, though, Idon’t want her to miss out on a flower crown.” She bent over the counter to address Aelin directly. “You did a great job not taking gifts from strangers. Maybe you can ask permission, now that mom’s here?”
Silva grinned. “Would you like a flower crown?”
Aelin nodded vehemently, accepting the accessory from the beetlewoman at last, thanking her sweetly.
“We don’t live in Cevanorë.” She breathed slowly, the words feeling strange on her tongue. She was a lifetime away from the elf who had. “We’re only just moving back into town, but I hope we’ll be settled enough to make it to the festival. Thank you for the reminder.”
They were nearly moved in. The kitchen was done, Aelin’s bedroom was ready. The bathroom was being finished this week, and the workers were there at that moment finishing off the plumbing. It was a brand-new unit in a section of the complex that had just been completed. Silva had argued with the leasing office that short-term rental wasn’t what she was interested in, to no avail.
“You have to understand, I’mfromCambric Creek. Thisishome for us. I’m just relocating back to the area, and I have a young daughter. I don’t want our existence to feel like it’s month-to-month.”
The troll in the office had smiled sympathetically. “I understand, but it’s the only thing we offer to new residents. There are too many folks who try to buy things up and then use them as short-term rentals online. Once you complete that first-year lease, you’ll have the option to buy. The paperwork will actually start well before then, so once the lease rolls over, you’re good to go.”
It was the best they could do.
The months they’d spent in the apartment above the Plundered Pixie had been strangely easy. She’d assumed, at first,it would be too hard, too many ghosts. She’d steeled herself for the apartment itself to rip her open again, but it hadn’t. She wasn’t here alone; her little girl needed routine and structure, and she was too busy focusing on the life she was building to allow herself to be forever stuck in the past.
Autumn came and went, five years without him.
The winter had been spent snuggled together, doing crafts and watching movies. Aelin delighted in watching the orcs come and go from downstairs at the windows. When Silva realized just how much money had been sitting in the account with her name on it, she’d made an impromptu decision, booking a short trip to Ireland to meet his mother.
Caoimhe lived in a gated edifice of a care facility that put Cevanorë to shame, an enclave on its own. She had her own collection of rooms, beautifully appointed, clearly well cared for, her son's disappearance having no ill effect on her life here, tucked away at the top of the world.
Of course he takes good care of her. Why would you think he wouldn’t? He’s been taking care of you since day one.
She was erratic and excitable, but she’d loved Aelin and Silva both, and while the visit had been tearful, Silva was certain it had been the right thing to do.
Aelin had shown Tate’s mother the tiny velvet-flocked animals Silva had given her, passed down through the generations and carried in a miniature train case in her backpack. Caoimhe’s eyes had gone wide, glowing with tears, fetching a nearly matching set from a jewelry box, old and worn, telling Aelin that her little boy had loved playing with similar toys, and that she should have them to add to hers.
Silva had stepped out of the room to sob silently in the hallway, realizing afterward that it was the first time she’d done so in months. Time kept marching on.
When they flew home, Silva decided they needed one last treat before they settled into their new lives. Aelin was about to start school, she was going back to work, and they were moving. A weekend at Blinxieland, just the two of them, riding every ride and eating candied apples for dinner, staying up well past Aelin’s bedtime to watch fireworks. She took enough pictures to fill several photo albums, sending the digital cache to her mother, grandmother, and his mother alike.
Five years without him, but there was still joy in the world to be found.
“What color do you think we should paint your bedroom?” she’d whispered into her daughter’s hair, once they’d come back to real life, the apartment above the Pixie already in boxes.
“Pink. And green, like ice cream.” Aelin was tucking into her side, burrowed in like a tiny animal, one of her stuffed rabbits beside her.
“I think we can do that. Let’s pick out paint tomorrow.”
At the news that she’d not be returning to the enclave, Silva’s mother was beside herself.
“Darling, why don’t youwantto come home? Of course you’re welcome! Silva, you know that. You know how much we want to have you and Aelin both back with us—”
“We’re literally going to be right in town, mother. Two and a half minutes away. You don’t even need to drive; you can hop on the trolley, it stops ten feet from our door. We can see each other every single day. But I’m not coming back to the club. She’s going to the public school, and that’s that. If you want to see us, nothing is stopping you and Nana from doing so, whenever you want. In town.”
She didn’t know why it was so easy to assert herself now.
If she had been brave enough to do exactly this before . . . Silva shook her head anytime those thoughts crept their way in.Because you’re not that elf anymore. You’re not a mouse. Silvaof the Daytime was gone. Strangely enough, so was Silva of the Nighttime. She no longer felt splintered into pieces.
She was just Silva, doing the best she could. Doing the best for her daughter and for herself. Anyone who wanted her to be something different was out of luck.
