Page 148 of When the Sky Breaks

“And she wasn’t growing inside your body,” I said. “You couldn’t feel her move every time you drank something cold or laid on your left side or climbed on a horse.”

He took my hand.

“Neal, I feel like part of me died too.”

“I think that’s to be expected,” he replied, leaning back and pulling me in to curl against his chest. “She knew how much we loved her. I promise she did.”

“I threw up almost every day for over a year for her,” I said. “I fled my country.”

“She knew,” Neal repeated.

“She knew,” I agreed.

I felt Neal’s hand start to stroke up and down my back.

“Neal, I want to go home,” I finally blurted out.

His hand stopped.

“We can’t, love. You nearly bled out. The trip takes months. Your body’s not ready.”

“Why is it so far?” I felt my own voice crack. “Why do my baby and my parents have to be buried on different continents?”

“Remember back on the ship when we talked about how life can be profoundly unfair?” Neal said.

I nodded against him.

“I think that’s what we’re experiencing now,” Neal said. “We did everything right. We fought to protect the Court. We fought to protect our baby. And the world just decided that didn’t matter.”

“Like Job,” I murmured.

“Exactly like Job,” Neal agreed. “Provided of course the devil had chosen to use weird cults summoning demons to orchestrate his downfall.”

I froze. Orchestrated downfall.

“How did Alexi get there so fast,” I murmured.

“Get where?” Neal asked. But I was already moving, climbing out of bed, pacing back and forth in front of our window in the moonlight.

“Our wedding,” I said. “You said the trip from Santa Fe to Europe takes months. And you’re right. It was what? Three months for you? Five for us, because of all the hiccups along the way and the whole stagecoach issue. But Alexi? Alexi showed up at our wedding less than a month after my father died. How?”

“I think I’m following.” Neal was sitting up straight now, watching intently.

“And Iksura got word I was pregnant far too fast,” I continued. “She’s beaten us to every destination. It’s like she had some way to circumvent every known transportation or communication method.”

“You’re not saying . . .” Neal trailed off.

It was treason.

We both knew that even thinking what I was about to say was treason.

But if it was true, then that didn’t matter.

“I think she’s using the portals. I think the angelic messengers that the cultist told us about in Edinburgh are from her,” I said. “I think she was bent on taking over the Outer Court and was willing to do anything to make it happen. I think she may have even staged the attack that killed my father.”

The accusation hung like a physical presence in the room.

“I think she took it upon herself to orchestrate our downfall,” I finally said.