One Broken Legacy

Chapter 21: Home is not a Place

The room was cold, not in a way that incited goosebumps or the shivers, but the kind of cold that froze the bones, dulled the senses, and gave off a permanent vibe of apprehension.

It was the kind of cold that existed in the Tristen house.

The living room had been finely decorated, the walls a beige with twisting, gold accents. The furniture held no trace of dirt or animal hair. It looked like something you'd see in a palace where everything had to be perfect, maybe even in the manor when it was first built. It didn't look like something that a person should live in, not comfortably anyway.

Nick sat across from me, his hands clenched in his lap, fingers white. The room seemed to frame him, drawing in like golden vines twisting and chaining him to the walls.

I stood off to the side, trapping myself in the corner as I waited for Nick's mom to join us. She was a busy woman, her work well known to me. Still, she had agreed to meet Nick at four and it was four forty-five.

As the clock chimed five, Mrs. Tristen entered the room in all her stuck-up glory, like she had been waiting for its signal.

She commanded respect in the courtroom and any room, her long nose upturned, her eyes set in a permanent squint.

"Nick, apologies for my late appearance. I was caught in a call, but it was important." She took a seat across from her son, her legs crossed, fine heels on her feet. "What were you so desperate to talk about? You haven't done anything stupid at school, have you?"

My lips curled in disdain. I hated her when I was young, and I hated her now.

"No, mom. There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it, dear? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but I wanted to ask you about dad." I could hear the nerve in his voice. "You don't talk about him, why?"

"It was a long time ago, and we only dated a few weeks. I didn't know him very well. Besides, I was a child when I had you, and he was no longer in the picture. I didn't think it mattered."

"He died in a car crash, right?"

"Yes." For the first time, I saw a glimmer of emotion in the woman. She looked apprehensive. "What about it?"

"How well did you know him?"

"I told you, I only dated him for a few weeks. I probably knew him as well as any teenager would know their date."

"Mom? Did he have any secrets?"

"I don't understand what you're insinuating, Nick. What is your question?"

Teeth flashed as Nick grit his jaw. "Did you know my dad was a werewolf?"

Mrs. Tristen hissed as she sucked through her clenched teeth. Her blue eyes flashed to me, so similar to Nick's but lacking the warmth and compassion.

"What did you tell him?" Her nails sunk into the couch like she was restraining herself.

"I told him nothing," I admitted, meeting her gaze with my own emotionless look. "He discovered it for himself, or at least he would have. If I hadn't been there, Nick would have been exposed in front of his entire school."

"You what?" Mrs. Tristen gaped, turning back to her son, who sat uncomfortably in his seat.

"I turned, mom. I'm a werewolf, just like my dad."

Mrs. Tristen didn't respond, she just buried her face in her hands. Long strands of blond hair hid her, but I imagined it wasn't pretty. I drew closer to Nick, standing behind the couch he was perched on, waiting for something to happen. This was not my fight.