Page 126 of Point of No Return

Time passes like sand through glass, and my blood is riddled with anxiety. I don’t let it show, casually leaning against the stone arch of the bridge I’m standing on. I hear her before I see her, boots scuffing stone, and I make a show of casually crossing one of my ankles over the other.

“You’re looking pale, Lottie.” Eva Orlova’s voice is like the honed edge of a blade. Precise, clean-cut, sharp. Every instinct inside me is telling me to run now and never look back, but when my mother appears beside me in the dark, I refuse to let it show.

“Moma,” I say in greeting, watching her carefully.

Her smile is something vicious. Her eyes are barely visible in the dark, but I can see the quick assessment they make of me, landing on my side where she knows I was shot. The sleek black of her suit, so at-odds with the dress she’s normally sporting, flashes in the moonlight as she comes to a stop less than two feet away from me.

“I’m glad to see you.”

“You came here for a reason.”

“Yes,” I hear her bitter laugh. “My beloved daughter betrayed me… and now I’m here to clean up the mess.”

My throat feels tight, but I refuse to let it show. “You killed Lorelai Benenati.”

She considers me for a moment with a sudden stillness like that of a panther poised before attack. “Tyson-”

“No.” My voice is strong. “You did. Tyson may have ordered the hit. Butyoukilled her.”

Eva smiles again, arrogance rolling off of her in waves. “This place has made you soft, dear girl. Weak. You chose the life of a man who damned your people over your own family?” She shakes her head, tsking quietly. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

“I chose life. A life without having to listen to your orders.”

“Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me, Charlotte.” The words are like a blow, and I flinch without meaning to.

Her words should mean nothing. Yet through all of this, it’s still her voice I hear echoing in my head.

“What is it you want, mother? Did you really come all this way for a piece of paper?”

I know she didn’t. She hid the phone in my bag in Mournstead, and she could have easily taken it then. But she didn’t. Because if I’m dead, a piece of paper won’t matter. I knew that before coming here tonight.

“No, of course not,” she shakes her head again, taking two slow steps toward me. I refuse to back down, even though every muscle inside me is desperate to. “But you already knew that. Didn’t you?”

I can feel the exact moment the air changes. There’s this sinking feeling in my gut, and I know without even turning that we’re not the only ones lurking in the dark. Two figures stroll from the same direction Eva came from, and I have no doubt that there are several more lurking somewhere near the bridge. I’m cornered, with no escape, and everyone here knows it.

“Was it worth it, Charlotte? You killed your husband, you ran, and all for what? A couple of months of freedom? I thought I taught you better than that.”

I smile at the admission, at the blatant lie she’s still trying hard to weave. It tells me one thing: My mother is at her wit’s end.

“You did,” I say, and my mother’s smile falters just a tad. “You taught me to always know who I’m working against. And no one knows you better than I do.”

I can count at least five figures in the dark- all Prevyain from what I’m guessing. Two behind my mother. Three behind me. It will be a battle to get out of this.

“You know what has to happen, Charlotte. We can do this the easy way. Painlessly. But I’ll give you the choice.”

“Does father know?” I raise a brow, leaning against the stone so that I can see the entirety of the bridge, shadows on either side of me. “Does he know that you killed his sister?”

My mother freezes. “What are you talking about?”

“I did a lot of research before I left. I learned a lot of things. You made your name in Prevya as a ruthless killer. You were powerful. All you needed was Papa’s money… But his sister got in the way. He has no idea that you were the one to do it, does he?”

For once, my mother is speechless. Unmoving. The gears in her head are grinding away as she considers her next move. But I’m stalling. And I can see the exact moment she realizes it because her eyes fall over me again.

“The hard way then.”

Before she even moves, my voice is loud, strong against the sound of the shipping pier, and she stops. “You will not touch me again.” Despite being riddled with fear, I appear indifferent. Capable. Strong.

“Have the last few months taught you nothing, Lottie? Running is only futile.”

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