Page 132 of Balance
Suddenly, my panic no longer mattered.
Her grip, which had been slowly growing weaker, tightened suddenly. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” she said. Her eyes had turned sharp and clear once again, a deep, golden brown—so much like my adoptive father that my chest ached.
As much as I tried to act as though I wasn’t bothered, over the years I’d grown rather fond of my dysfunctional and horribly misinformed adoptive parents. Could I ever forgive them? Probably not. But with his eyes staring back at me, it was hard to remain indifferent.
He’d mostly been indifferent and awkward, but there had been moments where he’dtried. The two of us would sneak WWE episodes while Mother was occupied in her gardens, and then there was the way he’d slip candy into my lunch every Friday morning before I went to school.
And sometimes, just sometimes—unless I was completely imagining this—it felt as though he watched me with a painful mixture of fear and something more that I couldn’t recognize.
I always assumed it was because they regretted adopting me.
But it was the same expression Kathleen was giving me now—one of expectation.
“I need to tell you something,” she said, the resignation in her expression suffocating me.
Her posture was tightening and her breathing labored; almost as if the rising moon was siphoning away her life.
But if it was so painful, why couldn’t she just wait. I didn’twanther to die, but if it was going to happen anyway… She shouldn’t hurt herself trying to talk to me now.
After all, it wasn’t like I couldn’t communicate with her after.
“You don’t have to—” I began, but she cut me off.
“I won’t be able to talk to you again,” she wheezed, the lines around her eyes deepening. “At least not now. You’re not ready yet.” She moved her free hand to the chain around her neck. She pulled at it, and a ring peeked into view.
“Take this.” Kathleen tugged at the ring with short, square fingers—the ruby capturing the light of the fire. “Take this and remember: No matter what you do, you can’t hide from destiny.”
“What?” I closed my hand around hers—her skin was already growing colder.
“I ran away.” She breathed, skin growing paler. “I abandoned my family and my friends in order to escape our destiny, and it didn’t change anything in the end. But now I can make things right. Promise to make Miles take the potion—he’ll need it. And, please, give this ring to Gregory.” She pushed her hand against mine. “I’ve been holding on to it for him.”
“The ring?” I asked, looking to our conjoined hands. “But what—”
“Michael read my fortune,” she interrupted me again. But I doubted she even heard me this time, her expression was already fading, and her focus seemed scrambled. “I thought I could outsmart it—that I could hide—but it wasn’t worth it. I’ve missed out on the positive parts of life. I missed seeing my grandchildren grow up.”
My heart was thundering in my ears, and panic remained at bay by only a breath.
“It’s fine,” she repeated, though it clearly wasn’t. “From the moment I found out who you were, I knew this was coming. But I’m not scared, I’m ready for what’s next. And honestly, it makes sense—that things needed to happen this way.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Youaremy grandchild.” Her hand shook as she touched my face, and her expression softened as the corners of her pale lips lifted slightly. “He could have told me. That bastard had to know. He’s such a fucking asshole.”
“Who?” Was she talking about my adoptive father? But that made no sense. She seemed fine with the news earlier. “Who is…”
But with a shuddering breath—and quite suddenly—she stilled. The air grew cold, and a light breeze seemed to pass through me. Her sudden death came with no lingering farewell. I was rendered speechless…
This small frail woman—and her last words were such vile curses. I couldn’t believe it.
What if my adoptive father asked what she’d said on her deathbed? How could I ever tell him the truth?
“Kathleen?” I breathed. Dropping her hands, I pushed to my feet. She had to say something else,anythingelse. I couldn’t let this be the end.
I turned, peering into the darkest corners of the room. My anxiety raced through me as the long seconds ticked by with no change.
She was dead, but I could see spirits. The next stage was supposed to be obvious.
Besides, she had unfinished business. We weren’t done. I had no idea what she had been trying to tell me.
