Page 48 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“You’ve never failed at anything you’ve decided to do,” she continues simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“That’s not true,” I mutter.

“Name one.”

The challenge is gentle but firm; it’s the kind she’s used on me since I was a kid and she knew I was about to spiral into my own head. I open my mouth, ready with a dozen arguments, but the words stall before they ever make it out. Instead, I just stand there staring at the counter whilst my mind runs through the years behind me and comes up empty. Mum watches the realisation settle across my face before she turns back to the bowl, pouring the batter in slowly whilst a satisfied smile curves at the corner of her mouth.

“Exactly.”

I can’t help the smile that pulls at my mouth and I lean over, pressing another kiss to her forehead so she knows I’m alright. We fall into a comfortable silence, and Mum doesn’t push the conversation any further. She just moves around the kitchen beside me and the music continues to hum quietly from the speaker. She’s always had this strange ability to understand exactly how much someone can handle before they start to crack. It’s like an instinct she was born with. Honestly, I’m convinced it’s her superpower.

“What are we making?”

“Lemon cake.”

“You always make lemon cake when you’re stressed.”

She glares at me. “I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

“That’s completely untrue.”

“You made three of them when Felix broke his arm.”

“That was different.”

“You made two when Atlas crashed his car.”

“That was also different.”

“And you made four the night I told you Fae was missing.”

She stares at me. Then sighs.

“Fine.”

“I knew it,” I grin.

“Keep mixing,” she says, pushing the bowl toward me.

“Yes, chef.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her expression tighten. There is the briefest pinch of irritation crossing her face before she speaks.

“Your dad is annoying me, if that’s what you’re wanting to know.”

A smirk tugs at my mouth. “When is he not?”

She lets out a small huff of amusement as she reaches for the cake tin and tips the bowl so the batter slides slowly into it.

“Isn’t that the truth,” she mutters. “Men really are a different species, I swear.”

I chuckle and bump my shoulder lightly against hers as she scrapes the last of the mixture out of the bowl.

“What’s he done this time?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “He has just been so distracted lately. More late-night meetings or going into the city for work. Things like that.” She wipes her hands on the apron again before looking at me. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want you worrying.”