Page 120 of Taken

Silence falls. The warehouse floor is littered with bodies. Blood and ash mingle in the air.

It’s over.

For a heartbeat, nothing happens.

Then, Elena’s eyes find mine over the scattered bodies.

A lifetime of separation descends into a single moment of recognition.

Mother finding daughter.

“Mom!” The word falls from her lips, disbelief and hope tangled in a single syllable.

I can’t breathe. Frozen in place. Can’t think beyond the fact that my little girl stands before me, a woman grown, powerful and beautiful andalive.

Everything I gave up was worth it for this moment.

“Elena.” Her name breaks in my throat.

We move simultaneously, drawn together by forces stronger than what’s happening around us.

My arms wrap around her as we reach each other, and all the years of emptiness collapse into this single, perfect moment. She’s taller than I am now, solid and real in my embrace. Her heartbeat pounds against mine, her tears dampening my shoulder as she clings to me with desperate strength.

“You’re here,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “You’re really here.”

I can’t say anything. My throat closes around words I’ve rehearsed a million times. Instead, I hold her tighter, breathing in the scent of her hair, memorizing the feel of her in my arms. My beautiful daughter. My sacrifice. My everything.

We tremble together, neither willing to let go. Her fingers dig into my back as if afraid I’ll disappear. I stroke her hair and press my lips to her temple.

“I never lost hope,” I finally manage, voice raw with emotion. “Every day, every moment—”

Elena pulls back just enough to search my face, her eyes swimming with tears.

“Mom,” she says yet again, the word carrying a wealth of longing.

I lift my hand to her cheek, trembling, hesitant, disbelieving. Her skin is warm beneath my fingertips. Real.Real.

Oh God. Oh, my God…

“I knew you were alive,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face. “I always knew.”

I want to say something… anything…everythingto explain the years I’ve been away. To tell her how I watched her grow through fragmented glimpses stolen from visions. How I survived only for this moment.

Instead, I press my forehead to hers, our tears mingling. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to leave you.”

“I know.” Her fingers close around my wrist, anchoring me to her. “I’ve seen you. In dreams. In visions.”

“Visions?” I stare at her in wonder. “You can see. You have ‘the sight’ too?”

“Yes, Mom.” Her lips curl up tremulously. “I can see images sometimes, and I—”

A deafening roar shatters our reunion; a sound of agony that splits the night.

Talon.

The pain in it knifes through me, stealing my breath.

Elena’s eyes widen as she feels my reaction. She looks at my face, then toward the neighboring rooftop, where golden light flickers and fades.

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