James angles his head to the side and presses his lips together like he’s trying not to smile. This also shouldn’t be news to him either, and yet I’m hot lava melting onto the carpet at my admission.
Dad blows out a breath before dropping his head into his hands at the revelation.
“My father already knows about her crafting ability and my… feelings,” James starts. My heart hammers. “We just need to be sure to keep him offthe sanctuary at all costs.” James looks to my father. “After what you said, he wouldn’t dare come.”
“What did you say?” Mom asks, turning to Dad.
“I threatened him.”
“Patrick,” she sighs.
“Needed to be done.”
“My father is a coward when it comes to his reputation,” James says.
“But you’re still his son,” Mom volleys back. “Your parents won’t give up on you or let you stay if they think we’re thieves.”
Thieves.Because of me. Because I acted on instinct when I should have paid more attention, should have let myself get whacked unconscious before crafting anything. One job and I failed at it in the worst way.
“I can’t go back,” James states.Everis implied even though for weeks I’d shuddered at the thought of James returning to that house once I learned what went on inside those walls.
“I agree, he can’t go back. So, what should we do?” I ask.
“We need to figure out who John will tell and what kind of repercussions this might have. If we lose business, that would be one thing. But we can’t have officials poking around or any investigation of the sanctuary. So, our first order of business is figuring out what rumors Mr. Murphy will create, and how to make sure theystayrumors.”
“And about Farren and I liking one another?” James asks.
Dad’s face pinches in pain. “And here I thought I’d have a few more years before I had to discuss Farren dating.”
And I thought I could maybe like a boy without having to have a family meeting about it. God, this is a new level of embarrassing.
Mom cuts in. “I’m glad to hear you two actually get along and don’t hate one another, but with everything going on right now…”
“He can’t leave,” I say again, firm as metal. “Not after what he’s done for us.”
“No.” Mom looks at James. “We don’t want you to leave. And we aren’t saying we’re against you two—” Her hands flap and mortification rushes through me like the emotion is being pumped into my veins, staining mered. “We’re not saying never. We are just saying not now. Now we need to keep you both safe.”
James nods, head angled down.
But I stare on, because her speech reminds me of a similar family discussion we had over a year ago about pretending to be a copper. How that was a promise involving “not forever” and “not never.” And yet, here I sit, still pretending.
I was tired when we got home. After that conversation though, I’m drained, limbs heavy, heart a mound of metal sinking in my chest. My parents are reasonable to a fault. I think that’s what hurts so much. I can’t get out of this, get what I want through reason.
James speaks of a nap as he shuffles out of the house, and before my parents can turn on me to talk more, I mirror his sentiments and tumble to my room. I don’t let my brain fixate on any one thought, caving into exhaustion.
When I wake up again, darkness has nestled over the house, a calm swaddle to the world. In the kitchen is a note with where to find dinner if I’m hungry. I gnaw on leftover meatloaf and try to wake up without plunging through the guilt and worry of what I did this morning. No chance.
My parents went to bed long ago, but my nap has thrown me off. I don’t normally mingle with the stars; I’m more used to seeing them shutting their eyes than their bright twinkling charm. I’m sitting on the kitchen counter, working on crafting a silver tea with the intention of bringing it to James the moment it looks vaguely consumable. It’s been an hour of failure.
Then the boy I like, who I can’t stop thinking about, walks in.
I half straighten, half jump. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he answers, also looking a little startled.
“Do you want some leftovers? There’s meatloaf,” I inquire.
“Actually, yes. I’m starving.”
