She set down her mug, leaning forward slightly. “You don't have to hide your feelings around me, Violet,” she said softly. “What that girl did to Calista… it’s unspeakable. I can still hardly believe it.”
I swallowed hard. “I'm angry,” I admitted. “Furious, actually. But I'm dealing with it. And having Julian with me has really helped.”
My mother's gaze shifted to Julian, her expression softening. “Thank you,” she said. "For taking care of my girl.”
Julian's hand found mine on the couch, his fingers lacing through mine. “I always will.”
The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. My mother’s eyes grew suspiciously bright again, and she leaned forward to grab a tissue from a box on the coffee table.
“There’s someone else I’d like you to meet soon, Mom,” I said softly. “If it’s okay with you.”
“Who?” she asked, dabbing her cheeks with the tissue.
“Julian’s brother Roman. He flew here with us, but he’s staying at a hotel for now.” I hesitated, then took a deep breath. “He was in a relationship with Cal before… before what happened to her. He really loved her.”
“What?” Mom’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t he contact us afterward? Or come to the funeral?”
Julian cleared his throat. “He wasn’t sure if that would be okay,” he said. “Seeing as Cal hadn’t introduced him to anyone yet. He thought it might be confusing, and he didn’t want to intrude on your grief, either.”
“That’s ridiculous. He would’ve been welcome here anytime,” Mom said. “I’d really like to meet him.”
“I’ll let him know. He’ll be very happy to hear it.”
“Call him right now, please.” Mom sat up straighter. “Tell him we’re going to visit Cal’s grave tomorrow morning, and I’d love for him to join us. We can go out for lunch afterwards and get to know each other.”
“All right.” Julian rose to his feet, chin dipping in a polite nod. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Once he was out of the room, my mother leaned forward. “He seems great,” she said in a hushed tone. “So nice. Smart, too. And he’s veryhandsome,isn’t he?”
I smiled. “Yeah, he is.”
“Although… they’re the ones you have to watch out for, aren’t they?” she said, forehead creasing. “I’ve been watching a lot of those true crime documentaries lately, and the sheer number of handsome, charming men who turn out to be serial killers is just mind-blowing.”
My brows rose, and she waved a hand. “Not that I'm implying Julian is a serial killer, of course,” she added hurriedly. “I just meant in general, us ladies have to watch out for the charming ones, don’t we?”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I replied. “Julian’s not a serial killer.”
Just a trained assassin. Totally different.
The thought should’ve disturbed me more than it did, and maybe it would have a few months ago. But after everything I'd learned, everything I'd seen, I'd come to understand that the world wasn't as black and white as I'd once believed.
I knew I could never participate in that side of Julian's life. The guilt I still carried from what Cal and I did to Neil when we were kids was proof enough of that. But I understood it now.
Sometimes violence was necessary. Sometimes it was the only way to protect the people you loved, or to stop people who would hurt others without remorse. The Club's methods were extreme, but in their world, among people with that much power and that many enemies, extreme was often the only option that worked.
It didn't make it right. But it made it... comprehensible. And I could live with that.
“Of course he’s not a killer,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Anyway, I’m really glad you’ve met someone who makes youhappy and supports you. At a time like this, you really need that.”
I nodded before taking a deep breath and reaching into my pocket. Then I moved closer to my mother, holding out Calista’s old phone. “I want to show you something,” I said. “When I found out Cal had a boyfriend, I looked through her photos, and I found these.”
I opened up the ‘Roman Holiday’ album and handed the phone to her.
“It’s Calista with Roman,” I explained. “They went on a weekend trip to Bar Harbor together.”
Mom slowly scrolled through the pictures, expression morphing from tenderness to grief and back again. “Cal looks so happy here,” she said, voice thick with emotion.
“Shewasreally happy with him,” I said softly. “She just didn’t tell us about him because it was a pretty new relationship, and she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.”
