Page 84 of My Orc Has Big Tusks
“That was you, not me, Mother.”
With a huff, she refilled both our tea cups, the silence between us now thick and heavy, like the mud on her pristine shoes.
“I’m not in a hurry to get back to Florida,” she said as she settled back in Dad’s chair. “Things actually haven’t been going well with Jerry. I might stay a few extra days, if that’s alright with you.”
The yes wanted to come automatically. It was the good daughter response and the path of least resistance. But I’d spent most of my life being the daughter who didn’t make waves.
“I’d like that,” I said, choosing to say it instead of feeling forced. “There’s more I can show you.”
She nodded, looking around the cottage. Her gaze caught on the bookshelf where Dad’s veterinary texts still sat, their spines cracked from use. The coffee table where both Dad’s and my mugs used to sit side by side. The peg board by the door that held only one coat now instead of two.
She’d left all this behind and built a new life in Florida with a new husband and two children who aren’t me. And now she sat in his chair, in the space I’d built around his absence, trying to find her way back to a daughter she’d left a long time ago.
I didn’t know how I felt about any of it yet.
“Thank you for letting me stay,” she said, her voice small, a fragile offering.
“You’re my mother.”
“I am.” She smiled, though it came out sad. “I wasn’t sure that still meant anything. Not here or with you.”
We were two women trying to figure out how to be daughter and mother when neither of us had the script.
But maybe there was a chance we could write a new script instead of dragging out the old.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BROVISH
Sofia had claimed the shelf nearest the window an hour ago, her tail wrapped tight around her feet, her round body rigid. She hadn’t blinked. Hadn’t moved. Just watched the empty road.
I’d reorganized the medical supply cabinet twice. Maybe three times. The bandages didn’t need moving. Laina’s system was better than mine. But my hands needed something to do that wasn’t clenching into fists or checking the window every thirty seconds to see if Sofia had spotted something I’d missed.
Carol Mercer had asked good questions yesterday. Thoughtful ones, though without warmth. She’d studied the facility the way kingdom inspectors scrutinized border enclosures, looking for the cracks first and noting the structure second. I’d watched her face when she saw Abagail’s twins, and for one breath, I’d sworn she was going to smile.
She hadn’t.
I put the gauze rolls back where they’d been at the start and closed the cabinet doors.
Through the window above the sink, the yard sat quiet and wet under a flat gray sky. The gate hadn’t opened yet, but Sofia stared through the glass, tracking something I hadn’t heard. Her tail curled tight around her feet.
She’d been watching for over an hour.
I wasn’t sure all we were doing would be enough.
Sofia launched off the shelf, shooting through the doorway, her orange glow arcing down the hallway toward the entryway. I followed at a slower pace, which meant I was nearly running.
Laina came through the front door first, shaking rain from her coat. Carol entered a step behind her, wearing white pants that already had a smear of mud on the hem.
Sofia flew at her at full speed.
Carol saw her coming and her hands went up, her arms windmilling backward. “Oh. Oh my!”
Sofia veered, redirecting to Laina’s shoulder. She landed and tucked herself against Laina’s neck. Pivoting her head, she scowled at Carol.
Carol lowered her hands slowly, straightening her jacket.
“She flew at me,” she said. “She has claws.”
