Empowered (Unbound, Book 6)

Chapter Fifty-Two

"Oh, my God!" I slapped my hand to my mouth, a squeal lodged in my throat. The purple form in front of me blurred, tears filling my eyes. I blinked, the evidence trickling down my cheeks to drip from my chin. I wanted to move but couldn't get my legs to work, too afraid she would disappear if I got close. I committed every inch to memory.

She looked just as I remembered but purple. Her thick hair flowed around her shoulders, the fly-aways lifting with an invisible wind. She turned her lips up, and an electric current shot through my veins.

Happiness.

Relief.

I felt all the feels.

"Mom?" I dropped my hand, my eyes widening as her silhouette pulsed, morphing in and out of solid state to mist, dark and light. "You're... You are here, right?"

Her eyes crinkled as her smile grew. She tilted her head to study me, then slowly nodded.

I took a step forward, then paused. I can't hug a spirit. They have no substance and I'd feel let down trying. "This isn't magical thinking? You're here, right? I can see dead people now?"

"I am a spirit, not a dead person."

As she spoke, her voice seemed to settle within me as though my body absorbed the sound. Another wave of familiarity flowed through me, producing joy that nearly pulled a sob from the darkest part of the grief I hadn't been able to experience when she died. If it was magical thinking, I didn't care, nor did I ever want to know it wasn't reality.

I never wanted to believe it wasn't real or feel I lost her again if it wasn't.

"You know, spirits don't need to be giving lessons anymore. Technically, it's not correct—you died to become a spirit, so you are a dead person." I laughed and swiped at my cheeks. "How are you here? Are you okay? Are you stuck? I know, I should have fixed things already. I'm working on it so you can move on. I don't want you to suffer. I should have accepted magic. I'm so sorry. You wouldn't be gone if I—"

My mother held up her hand. Her smile vanished and, when she met my gaze, her eyes seemed near-glowing and as completely purple as they had turned when she died. Still, I could read them as easily as I could when she was alive, the light within unchanged.

"Nora. I'm fine. There is no pain. I promise. There never was."

"Good." I nodded. "What is it like? Where you are? Is it okay? LIke being home and relaxing all the time or mixing herbs constantly like you enjoy?"

"I can't tell you what it's like, Nora. That would be cheating."

I snorted. "That's stupid."

"No. Rules exist for a reason. Even here." She laughed and raised her hand to keep me from arguing. "Some will do crazy things to avoid death—it would be worse if they knew what to expect or better if it was what they wanted."

"Fine. I get that... Sort of." I rolled my eyes. "Are you at peace? Can you tell me that?"

She hesitated and shook her head.

Relief popped like a ballon in my chest that remained burning. I nodded, once again holding back tears until she blurred. I swallowed the lump in my throat but my voice cracked and a single tear escaped. More than anything, I wanted to share my frustration, but it was like it was sealed from escaping, blocked by the joy of seeing her. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I want you to be at peace."

"Oh, Nora. I am sorry. More than you'll ever know. None of this happened because of you."

"But I didn't accept things. I left and... and..." I sucked in a breath. "I left and you died."