BOOK ONE - promised series
When a new family moves to Everett Valley, Catherine vows to find out what they are searching for in her secluded hometown that doesn't normally welcome new people.
Catherine must choose between the council and her pack le...
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Walking down a wide, gravel road I hummed silently. After a while, I reached the first few houses of our neighbourhood. They were all wooden constructions, each of them the same as the next. Before my habitual rumination over the architecture, my mother's figure appeared in the distance.
My heart beat sped up and my brain instantly went into problem-solving mode.
How was I going to explain all the bruises?
"Hello, Mother," I greeted once she was within earshot.
Though she looked at me, the way her face was cold and distant, it seemed that she was more likely staring right through me.
Standing in front of me, it felt as if she were hundreds of kilometres away.
"Busy day?" I asked when she didn't say anything.
Her hair shone red as the sun touched her from behind, illuminating her silhouette, outlining each edge, curve and line as if she were an intricate painting. She was truly beautiful, even though her plump lips weren't curved upwards and her eyes weren't smiling. Her features were delicate and the auburn shade of her hair made her pale skin glow.
Nodding, she briefly closed her eyes.
The distance felt gone, then, but returned as soon as she looked back at me.
"Yes, very. Where are you going?" Her voice was feminine and held a calm melody.
Though even in her words I could hear a distance that I couldn't shake.
I wondered if the healing-process had already kicked in. Couldn't Mother see the bruises covering my face?
According to Reece, they were hard to miss.
"I'm heading to the Iarhus. I have class soon."
She nodded again, very slowly, which only empathised on the tired look in her face. I would have liked to ask her about her day in more detail, but I wasn't ready to be shot down. As much as I felt with her, I couldn't deal with more distance.
More pain.
"You should be preparing before it starts. Why aren't you already there?"
Where her voice had been melodic and calm, it now carried a feathery whisk of disapproval. Like a song with a sad melody but aiming words. Words aiming at my heart, ready to plunge into it and make it feel the way her own heart must have felt.
Fiddling around with my hands, I wasn't sure how to answer. "I'm just running a bit late."
"I bought that clock in the living-room for a reason," she shot back, arching an eyebrow.
Aimed and hit.
"Yes, Mother."
She turned away from me and walked past me without sparing me a single glance. Rooted to the spot, I wanted to continue walking as if nothing were amiss.
