“Marigold, go to your room,” her mother says over her shoulder.
“I want to hear what Grandmother has to say.”
Her mother’s head whips around to face her. She can see the hurt in her mother’s eyes, but she is not willing to let anything stand between her and the truth.
Not anymore.
She steps out from behind her mother and hurries to sit beside her grandmother. “I have been kept in the dark my whole life, and it has been killing me. Please, tell me the truth.”
“First, tell me where you went. Tell me what you saw,” Althea says hurriedly.
“She is not like you, Mother,” her mother yells. “She does not see what you see.”
With a deep breath, Marigold focuses her gaze on the floor.“I do see things, and you know that, Mother. I’ve asked you so many times for so many years to explain it, and you have refused. So, I had to figure things out another way.”
Her mother raises her brows. “What is that supposed to mean? What do you think you’ve figured out?”
“I’ve been sneaking out once a month to speak with them. Last night was no exception. There is a creature alive in the meadow, and…”
“A spirit? Something that resembles an animal of some kind but clearly isn’t?” Althea says plainly, and Marigold searches for words before she responds.
Marigold nods and says, “I also saw something as I came home. Red light spilling from the sky over our estate. It felt like a warning of some kind.”
“The second omen,” her grandmother says under her breath.
“If this is true,” her mother interrupts, “how have you managed to hide it from me?”
She chews on her lower lip for a moment before she decides to tell the truth. There is no use hiding it any longer—not when she’s standing before her mother in a mud-stained dress.
“Father knows. He’s always known.”
Her mother places her hand over her heart. “Impossible. He would never keep that from me. He loves me.”
She glares at her. “Love has nothing to do with it. You are no stranger to keeping secrets from people you love.”
“Oh, Mari,” she says with a wobbly voice. “There is so much you don’t know. So much you don’t understand. So much pain from which I have spared you!”
“Spared me?” she yells as she stands. “I have been dying here. I have felt completely alone, hopelessly waiting for anyone to make me feel normal. Nothing that you have kept from me could be worse than this.”
A tear slips down her mother’s face, but she wipes it away quickly. “You are wrong, Marigold. You are not dying here. In fact, staying here is the only thing that has kept you alive.”
Confused, she looks between her mother and grandmother, hoping to find some understanding.
Her mother wipes her forehead with the back of her hand and says, “I don’t even know where to begin to explain all this. I shouldn’t have to.” She glares at Althea. “You should never have come here.”
“I had to, and you know that, Raina. You also know that Marigold is not a normal girl, and keeping the truth from her is doing more harm than good.”
“Oh, please,” her mother says as she rolls her eyes and regards Althea with disgust. “You do not care about what is best for her, otherwise you would not be here right now. The last time we saw each other was the worst day of our lives. You almost got my daughter killed!”
Desperate for answers, Marigold interrupts and says, “During the storm? All I remember from that day is watching the world turn black.”
“It wasn’t a storm. It was an attack,” her grandmother says.
“And you were the target,” her mother wails. “Your grandmother seems to have forgotten that.”
Althea turns to her daughter and says, “As I explained to you as soon as I arrived, Innisfree has been safe for over a decade now.”
“But now you need my daughter to risk her life, again, in order to keep it that way? That’s not safe, Mother. Far from it.”
