Page 74 of Blood Ties
Kai
Istand beside theladder to the attic, staring without seeing. My hands haven’t stopped shaking since I spoke to Riley, and there’s a dull buzzing in the back of my mind.
My head is spinning. So much has happened. That girl in the kitchen, Knox comforting me, Riley telling me she loves me. I’m feeling too many things at once to make any sense of it. The wordlovesits like a weight on my shoulders. I think of Riley’s lips against mine, Knox’s arms around me.
But most of all, I think about Momma.
I told Riley the truth. Momma isn’t like her. She isn’ttrappedhere.
I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. Ithasto be the truth. There’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed that over all the years of being here. She would have told me she was trapped. Asked for my help. She has to know I’d do that, for her.
But she hasn’t been coherent since I was a kid. What could I have done?
I swallow with a dry click, and force one of my shaking hands to grip the ladder. I haul myself up, one bar at a time, and knock on the door at the top.
“It’s me,” I say, and enter.
Momma is propped up on her pillow, staring listlessly out the window as usual. I stand in the doorway and study her across the room, my pulse pounding. I know Momma’s not well. But it’s not because... itcan’tbe because...
I can’t even bring myself to finish the thought. She’s just sick.
The buzzing in my ears won’t go away.
I slowly cross the room and crouch beside her bed.
“Hey, Momma,” I say, staring at her. “I’m sorry I haven’t been up here much lately...”
Her eyes are glassy, distant. She doesn’t even know I’m here.
I thought I had gotten used to the pain of her absence. But the hurt feels fresh today. It throbs in my chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut, startled by the intensity of the pain.
God, that buzzing sound is still in my ears, and it’s getting annoying. It seems — louder now, clearer almost. Like the sound of rain tapping against the roof, even though the sky outside of Momma’s window is blue.
I try to ignore it, to focus on Momma. “If... if you can... I need you to tell me something,” I croak out. It’s hard to find the words I want to say, but her silence gives me all the time in the world. “I just... I just need you to tell me, so I know for sure...” I bite my lip, force it out in a rush. “Do you... want to be here, in this house?” There’s no change in her expression. Not even a flicker, a moment’s eye contact. “Are you trapped here, Momma?”
I reach for her hand, lying listless on the bed at her side, but something stops me at the last moment. I study her limp hands, her wrists. She’s not shackled, but when I look closely, I can see faint white scars, barely visible against her pale skin. Almost like, years ago, she was...
No, no, no.
My shoulders slump. It feels like something inside of me is cracking.
“Can you just tell me?” I ask, barely a whisper. “Please? I won’t tell Dad, I won’t tell Knox, I won’t tell anyone, I just... I wanna know. I can... I can get you out of here, you know that? I’ll do it. You just need to tell me.”
My lower lip starts to wobble, my breath coming out shaky. The sound of nonexistent rain drowns out the drum of my own heartbeat. My mind is teetering between disbelief and suspicion, sorrow and anger.
“Just say it,” I plead. “Just say something. Anything. Momma...”
My voice cracks. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it’s not enough to keep in the tears. A sob tears out of my throat, and I sink to my knees on the floorboards, pressing my face against the side of the bed.
Because it doesn’t matter what the truth is. Momma is gone. She’s been gone for a long time.
Something brushes against the top of my head, featherlight.
I jerk in surprise before settling my cheek against Momma’s fragile, paperwhite hand.
“Shh,” she says, barely a whisper.
Or maybe that’s the rain. The sound of it grows louder in my ears. Louder and louder until it’s a throbbing pain.
