Page 131

The door creaks open, and their footsteps are soft on the wooden floor. I don’t look up. My legs are curled beneath me, and I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, gripping the pillow like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered. My hair falls around my face in a messy curtain, hiding my swollen eyes.

Deidre moves first, crossing the room and sitting beside me. She doesn’t speak right away, just slips an arm around my shoulder. I stiffen but don’t pull away. I’m too tired to pull away.

Amelia lingers by the door, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “I’m sorry to intrude,” she says quietly. “I just… I needed to see you. To make sure you’re okay.”

A bitter laugh slips from my lips before I can stop it. It’s hollow, jagged. “Okay? Sure, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice wavers, but the sarcasm cuts through clearly enough.

Deidre’s arm squeezes gently around me.

I tighten my grip on the pillow, my knuckles white. The words I want to say feel tangled in my throat, but eventually, I whisper, “I don’t even know how to feel right now. Angry? Hurt? Betrayed?” I shake my head, and my voice breaks. “All of it, maybe.”

Amelia takes a step closer but stops, as though afraid of crossing an invisible line. “You have every right to feel all of those things,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “I won’t try to take that away from you.”

“Why wasn’t I told sooner? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Amelia exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping. “Because we were protecting you, as hard as that is to believe,” she admits.

I stare at her for a long moment, my jaw tight. “Do you have any idea how much this hurts?”

Amelia’s eyes glisten with tears, and she nods. “I do. And I’ll carry that guilt for the rest of my life.” Her voice wavers as she continues. “But I love you, Triona. I loved you from the moment Sarah told me she was carrying you. And I’ve never stopped.”

My lip trembles, but I bite down on it and turn away. Deidre leans in closer, her voice soft but firm. “Triona,” she begins softly, her voice steady but heavy with emotion, “you have every right to be angry. To feel betrayed. But there are things you must understand about why this secret was kept from you.”

I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, my jaw tight. “I’m listening,” I say, with far too much bite than is deserved.

Amelia clasps her hands together, her knuckles white. “Your father wasn’t just a man who dreamed of a free Ireland. He was a symbol. A martyr. Even now, decades later, his name carries weight. To some, it’s hope. To others, it’s rebellion. And there are those—powerful, dangerous people—who would see anyone connected to him as a threat. Someone to be silenced. Someone to make an example of.”

I lift my eyes, narrowing them. My voice cracks as I spit the words out. “So, you all hid who I am because you thought I couldn’t handle that?”

Amelia’s face tightens, but she nods. “Aye. Knowing the truth too soon would have sent you searching for answers. Answers that would have led you straight into the crosshairs of those who still fear what your father stood for. You would have been drawn to his legacy, to the fight he left behind. And you wouldn’t have been ready.”

My fists clench in my lap, and I feel the heat rising in my chest. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what I could have handled!”

Her voice hardens, but her eyes soften, filled with sorrow. “No, I didn’t know. But I couldn’t take that risk. Sarah—your mother—made me promise to protect you. To give you a life where you could grow strong before the weight of all this was laid upon your shoulders. And I kept that promise, even when it broke my heart to stay away.”

I shoot to my feet, pacing the room as the anger boils over. “So everyone decided what I could and couldn’t know? Everyone decided what I could handle? I’m the one whose life is a lie, and you all thought that was fine as long as it suited you?”

“Triona,” Deidre’s voice cuts through the room. I stop mid-step, turning to face her. The anger flickers in my chest, but her steady gaze stops me in my tracks.

“Enough,” she says, her eyes searing into mine. “You think this was easy for any of us? For Amelia? For your parents? Do you think we don’t wish things could have been different? But wishing doesn’t change what the stars have written.” She pauses, her gaze softening slightly. “We were all so close once, Triona. James, Ellen, Alex, his wife, Amelia, Robert, Sarah, and even me. We were family—a chosen family. But Robert’s death… it shattered everything.”

I blink, the weight of her words making my chest feel even heavier.

She continues, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow. “After Robert died, Sarah began having disturbing visions. They grew stronger every day, consuming her. She saw things none of us could understand, things we barely believed at first. And then… when she died, James and Ellen had no choice but to leave Ireland. The danger was too great. They took you and returned to Scotland, while Alex went to America to keep his family safe. We all scattered, trying to pick up the pieces.”

My heart pounds in my chest, my anger momentarily forgotten. “She had… visions as in….”

Deidre exchanges a glance with Amelia, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Your mother believed she saw things before they happened… and sometimes, the things she saw came true.”

I blink, stunned into silence as she steps closer, her tone softening but still firm. “Your path was set long before any of us could even dream of changing it. The only choice any of us had was how to prepare you for it. And that’s what they tried to do. To protect you until the time was right.”

“What we had hoped for, to protect you… they still found you.”

I look between Amelia and Deidre, searching their faces for answers. “Who found me?”

Amelia takes a hesitant step closer, her hands wringing together as if trying to crush the weight of her own guilt. “The ones who never stopped watching. The ones who see you not as who you are but as what you represent.”

My breath quickens. “What do I represent?”