Page 131 of Goldsin

A thump catches my attention, and I turn to see my mom crumpled on the floor, her right hand clutching the lower side of her stomach.

My throat squeezes shut at seeing her like this.

Kneeling beside her, I hold her chin up and look into her eyes. “Mom,” I whisper.

Even in the situation we’ve found ourselves in, I’m searching for her reassurance. For her to tell me everything will be fine.

She hisses, and my eyes fall down her body to the stain on her white nightgown.

Blood seeps from the stab wound on her abdomen.

My hands tremble as I put pressure on it. But the blood keeps flowing out, drenching my hands. The metallic scent overpowers her flowery perfume, and I’m scared this is all I’ll remember her by.

Nothing but her favorite white gown, ruined by her blood.

Nothing but her pink lips that always found the strength to stretch into a smile whenever she’d hold me, now the color of ash. Thin, crippled.

Or her blue eyes, the color of the morning sky, now the color of death. Of lost hope.

This can’t be the last time I see my mom. I don’t want this moment to taint all the memories I have of her.

I feel my spirit sink as I hold her life in my bloodied hands. I thought I was doing everything to protect her. I should have prevented this from happening. I shouldhave done more. I didn’t save her—I killed her. This is all my fault.

She looks at me with blinding terror. Tears fill her eyes as she gasps for air between jagged sobs.

Her lips drag at the corners as she struggles to form words through the soaring panic. The adrenaline must already be in full effect, or she’d be screaming out at the sheer force I’m putting on her stomach.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

But it’s not. My hands are slick with her blood.

I can feel my own eyes pricking with unshed tears.

I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not now.

Reaching to the left, I blindly grab the phone on the nightstand, leaving pressure on the wound with my other hand.

“Valentine!” I choke out the moment he picks up. “It’s Julian. Someone broke into the house, tried to kill Mom. They’re still here—find them!”

“Understood.” His voice is calm. Receptive. Even if I just woke him up in the middle of the night with the worst news. “Is your mother all right?”

I’m about to answer when my mom manages to speak.

“Lucian ... gone.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, the words scratching the back of her throat as she uses all her strength to vocalize them.

Lucian is gone.

I was right then. He left her with that guy. But why? Something isn’t adding up.

“Mom, what do you mean?”

“Julian?” Adrian’s voice echoes around the room as he bursts through the door. His eyes round when he catches us on the floor, but the color completely drains from his face when he looks at the bed.

I follow his gaze.

My heart lurches, turning rigid with realization.

“Valentine,” I say through the phone. “Lucian is dead.”

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