21 | Ember

1.6K 47 28
                                    

After Nova had leaped away, Ember realized that she was crying.

She felt stupid, like a little girl, to cry over a thing like this. She wished she could just brush the insults off . . .

But she couldn't.

She felt Emerson reach up and brush away her tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Nova's so awful."

Ember shook her head. "It's okay—I shouldn't let her get to me."

She wiped her face and forced her sobs down, straightening her slumped posture. She started to walk, but nearly fell over due to her pounding headache. She stumbled into a tree and clung onto it as she got her bearings.

Emerson ran to her side. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Ember mumbled, rubbing her temples.

But as she stepped back from the tree, her eyes went wide in fright.

The tree was tall and thin, with sweeping gold leaves. It was sprinkled with brown blossoms that hadn't yet bloomed, their petals tucked inward.

There was something oddly familiar about it . . .

She glanced at the inscription carved into the earth below.

Sophie Elizabeth Foster.

Her headache turned into a migraine as she sank to the ground and stared up at the branches and leaves that reminded her all too clearly of her mother.

She glanced at Emerson, who was staring at the tree next to her mother's. It was taller, with knotted bark and light red leaves. Periwinkle flowers blossomed high in the branches, letting their soft petals stretch toward the sky.

Ember read the inscription below it, heart clenching in her chest.

Dexter Alvin Dizznee.

Ember knew the trees were fake.

Dex and her mother were alive and well, healthy and happy with spouses and children. But that didn't stop the terror from racking her body from the inside out.

Her heart felt like it was trembling in her chest, unable to beat.

She briefly recalled when her mother had told her the story. How she and Dex had been kidnapped and assumed dead; how they'd had a funeral and crafted trees for the two friends.

It made her shudder.

She stumbled to Emerson's side, realizing he was shaking, pale and cold.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly. "They're not real," she whispered, assuring herself as much as him.

But he still trembled, and she with him.

After a long stretch of silence Ember heard footsteps approaching.

She couldn't quite lift her head, but she heard her someone gasp.

Two figures ran toward them, and only once their arms were wrapped around her did she realize they were her parents. They embraced Emerson and her tightly in a group hug.

"I'm so sorry you saw that," Ember's mother whispered to the two teenagers.

Emerson still shook in tremors, his body rocking slightly.

Ember's father squeezed his arm gently. "They're not dead, Emerson," he whispered. "Your dad's alive."

Emerson's shaking calmed to shivering. "I know. It's just hard to look at."

Ember's parents hugged them tighter, and Ember felt her father sending cool breezes into her mind, easing her migraine.

She gripped her mother's arm tightly, needing to feel her; needing to make sure she was really there.

A sob lodged in Ember's throat, but she pushed it down. "I'm so glad you're not dead."

Ember's mom laughed slightly, the small sound ricocheting off the trees and echoing throughout the woods. "Me too, sweetheart."

Ember felt her parent's grip fade as they pulled back.

"You're okay, mom?" Ember asked, thinking back to her behavior earlier, at Kenric's tree.

"I'm okay," she whispered. "I think it's just been a hard day for all of us."

Ember nodded.

She stood carefully, brushing the dirt from her dress, and helped Emerson to his feet. His shaking had ceased, but he was so pale he looked like he might pass out. She wrapped her arms around him firmly, letting himself bury his face in her shoulder.

She gently stroked his hair, softly brushing her fingers through it until his body had stilled. When Ember pulled back she was happy to see the color had returned to his face. He smiled weakly at her, though it appeared more as a grimace.

Ember glanced back at her parents.

Her mother shot her an impish grin that lit up her face, tinting it pink. And her father . . .

He looked proud.

Ember's mom clutched her father's arm. "How about we do something fun?"

"Like what?" They all asked, Ember's father included.

Her mother pulled a cobalt blue crystal from her dress, which—of course—had pockets. "How would you like to meet Amy?"

The name felt familiar to Ember, but she couldn't quite place a face to the name. "Who's Amy?"

"My human sister."

Together we fallWhere stories live. Discover now