Page 88 of A Silence So Divine

Thirty Six

Eden

Icannot get my eyes to rise to Veda, and I cannot pry my fingers off of Cecil. If it bothers him that I’ve got his wrists in a death grip, adhering his hands to my cheeks, he doesn’t show it. Instead, the pads of his thumbs continue a soothing motion over my face, even as the rest of him tenses with trepidation.

“Imogen was a friend of mine. Mybestfriend.”

Imogen… The photo on Veda’s wall. That was mymother?

Acid burns the back of my tongue, and I have to stave off the urge to vomit.

“She’s the one who introduced me to all this. My family was extremely God fearing, so I was, too. But one day, when we were teenagers, she started talking about Fates.”

There’s a fondness in her voice that has me peering at her. The corners of her lips twitch, hiding a secret smile.

“I looked at her the same way you two are looking at me. I understand how it sounds, but in all my years, it’s the one thing I’ve held onto. My one truth.”

Cecil pulls away from me, and I hesitate to allow it. Once he stands, he stays at my side, and the weight of his palm landsbetween my shoulder blades. It’s the one thing that keeps me from crumbling.

“So your friend that lived here…” Cecil trails off, giving Veda the opportunity to confirm what I’ve already realized.

“Eden’s mother, yes.”

I become too aware of my surroundings. Did my mother sit in this chair? Did she eat at this table? Did she cry here? Dance here?

A conversation from that first day meeting Veda flutters at the back of my mind like wings against a window pane.

“Your eyes… they’re very unusual.”

“Did you get them from one of your parents?”

My lips part on a silent gasp.

“You knew,”I accuse. Tears well, and I’m unsure if they’re stemming from fury or devastation. Perhaps both.

The pity that stares back at me is almost as insulting as the deception.

“I wasn’t certain, but yes. I wondered from the first time I laid eyes on you. The resemblance is undeniable.” There’s a hint of regret in the slowness of her speech, but it isn’t enough. Nothing she says could reverse the ache behind my ribs.

Cecil has gone eerily silent, his gaze fixed out the window. It’s only a matter of time before he explodes. A part of me hopes that he will, so I don’t have to.

“This was her journal,” Veda continues, motioning to the faded leather that still lies before me. There’s a quiver in her hand. “She always intended for it to go to you.”

She might as well have laid in front of me. A stack of papers, holding the subject of every dream and nightmare I’ve ever had. It's proof that my mother was a real woman, not a phantom from my past. She was a daughter, a friend, a lover.

And I killed her.

The thought steals my breath. Guilt wraps a noose around my heart and throws itself into deep waters, sinking down, down, down.

Pulling my hands from the table, I tuck them beneath my thighs.

“She doesn’t want it,” Cecil says with finality, keeping his back to the two of us.

There’s a flash of anger in Veda’s eyes, but she blinks and it’s gone. “She doesn’t know what she wants.”

It’s true. I don’t know what I want. No one, in all my life, has ever asked me what I want.

“Eden,” Veda says. A tan hand reaches out, palm up. A peace offering. “I need you to know that your mother Saw all of it. Sheknew. Her demise was… It was all part of the plan. It had nothing to do with you. I swear it.”