Page 126 of Reflections of Peonies
“Are you ready?” he asked, crossing his arms.
I took a deep breath and nodded, eyes fixed on Bianca. My stomach turned to stone as I braced myself.
I’d promised her.
But, like my grandfather and Gregory said, ultimately, that didn’t matter right now. This was a matter of her health and mental well-being. That took precedence over everything, even my own reservations.
“Ready,” I replied.
20
I heldon to Bianca as my focus grew sharper.
“Remember,” Titus, who’d moved back to his seat, spoke. “Your only purpose is to find Bianca and get her out.”
“I know,” I told him.
“Don’t go snooping around,” he continued, looking at my grandfather. “Whatever information we need from her, it’s not going to be gathered against her will.”
The two older men looked at each other, nonplussed, before Pops answered, “I do understand the concept of professional boundaries. I once won a medal for that.”
My skin felt light, and a rushing sound washed over my ears—I’d already begun the dive. I barely glanced at the dragon before the wave washed over me.
A breath later, the room fadedaround me.
I openedmy eyes to a haze of color and overlapping voices ringing loudly through the never-ending space. The darkness settled as the bright windows of memory filled my sight. The waters of thought ran in hurried currents throughout the space, and for a moment, it was impossible to make sense of the chaos.
Was this what being in her mind was like? It was chaotic and unorganized, with conflicting thoughts and emotions and no end in sight.
No wonder she was so anxious.
Some of the windows were brighter than others—the memories that made up the core aspects of her personality. I was drawn to those glowing lights, my attention lingering on them. But then, my attention was pulled downward, and my gaze shifted to my feet.
A slow, gentle stream of water flowed away from me, leading toward a particular location, not at the forefront of her mind.
I followed it to where her focus had been captured, and I leaned forward, reaching for her consciousness, and fell through the window.
I stepped into a bright, airy room, and my gaze was instantly drawn to her light.
Bianca.
She had to be no older than four. She wore a long, pink gown and a green ribbon tied in her hair, and was sitting with her back to me as she played with a small doll with button eyes and red yarn hair. Faint voices murmured from somewhere else in the house, but their words were lost to me. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t why I was here.
“You figured it out.” My grandfather was suddenly beside me.
I frowned at him. “It wasn’t that hard.”
And, indeed, it hadn’t been. I’d worried for nothing.
Pops lifted a brow and tilted his head, and something movingin his expression that made my stomach turn in knots. “You haven’t gotten to the difficult part yet,” he replied.
I ignored him, returning my attention to mini-Bianca. My heart began racing. It was too late to back out when I was already in her memories. But I sincerely hoped that I hadn’t lost her trust after this.
But then, as I studied her, my anxiety eased.
Damen and Titus had told us that she’d had a relatively safe life before Eric Richard had gotten his hands on her, but it was different seeing it—seeing her—with such a genuine, carefree smile. The room was clean and well kept, with lace on the bed and windows and clean toys scattered throughout, and there was a lightness in how she carried herself that didn’t exist anymore.
And I’d never once heard her sing before.
