“My question remains unanswered.”
Khadijah cuts her eyes. “We need something to put it in.”
“I have something.” Hiram is gone for so long, Khadijah sheds her protective gear to check on Peter and Antaris. He returns with a modest silver ring with striations and a navy opal stone. Ignoring her wide-eyed stare, Hiram flips it open, revealing a small pillbox.
“There’s probably a story with this.”
Hiram chuckles. “No story. It was my aunt’s. My uncle wore it, and her wedding ring, around his neck after she died.”
“And you’re giving it to me?” Veda asks skeptically.
“You need a place to store your crushed foxgloves, and this will do.”
Veda hesitantly accepts, carefully fills the pillbox and closes it. “If you want it back—”
“I already told you.” Hiram slips it on the right ring finger. It fits. She looks at it, tests taking it off and putting it back on, while Hiram watches with an unrivaled intensity that’s hard to ignore, even when he takes her hand once more.
“Worst-case scenario, it’ll put me out of my misery.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Hiram says. “I know it’s a reality, but—”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Anxiety breaks through like the persistent weed it is. “Let me clean up.”
Taking extra precautions with the pieces they used, Hiram cleans the counters twice, stores everything in another room, and starts figuring out breakfast, his mood quiet and somber.
“Everything okay?” Veda asks.
“Yeah.” Hiram abandons cracked eggs to tilt her chin and kisses her in a way that unravels the tightness inside her. A conversation without words. At the feel of his lips, time stills, their breaths syncing. Freeing and frightening. Veda thinks back to what she once told herself: He’s a temporary insanity. Unfortunately, bursting their island bubble and returning to real life hasn’t cured her one bit.
The talisman alerts them to a new arrival. “Expecting anyone?”
Hiram shakes his head. “I was planning a quiet day with you and Antaris after Peter’s lesson.”
Those plans crumble when Veda answers the door.
“Is there a place we can talk?”
Ruth looks frail. It makes it harder for Veda to hold on to her anger, especially after learning about the oath. When Veda lets her inside, Ruth drifts to the great room and stands at the glass door, watching Peter andAntaris work on control. Khadijah returns, takes one look at Ruth, and mumbles something about needing to run an errand.
Hiram boils water. Veda sits at the table. Minutes pass as they sit in tense silence, trading increasingly skeptical glances. The clink of Hiram placing a cup of hot tea on the glass table startles Ruth, who draws a hand to her chest, closes her eyes, and takes a few settling breaths.
Hiram sits beside Veda.
“How are you?” Ruth asks at last, joining them at the table. “I know we didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“Moving forward, as I always do. But I’ll admit you’re making me nervous.”
“I see Antaris is catching on nicely.” Ruth smiles sadly. “The littles do struggle the most when Sight manifests earlier than intended.”
Hiram tilts his head. “You knew?”
“No, but one of the volunteers suspected. Indica.”
Don’t stress, little one. You’ll speak again in time.
“Child Seers are—”
“Nicknamedlittles, yes. It’s meant to be ironic, because they unconsciously do so much little magic that’s overlooked. They need the most care. A father’s love, a mother’s strength.” Ruth sips her tea, brow rising at Veda’s expression. “You may not be his mother in blood, but you don’t have to be to love like one.”
