Page 97 of Claim the Light
“Sophia.” Her eyes widen, then her cheeks flush. She sniffs loudly and holds her head higher. “It seems they’re bringing me the trash now.”
I don’t look away. There was a time when her comment would have hurt me. Now it simply washes over me.
Niah laughs and folds her arms across her chest while Gordon finishes up punching a message into his phone.
“Tyler’s on his way,” he says, pocketing his phone right next to his gun.
I won’t have long now before I need to return to my previous plan, so I lean across to my mother. My wrists are now bound, but I reach out for her hand.
“This doesn’t have to be your future, Mom,” I say quietly.
She snatches her hand away from mine. It’s a jerky movement. “What future?” she snarls. “I have no future unless he chooses me.”
At her words, a tense silence falls around me. The thump of music continues to vibrate through my feet, although I’m aware of the staff guiding patrons toward the door. They seem to be doing it in small batches, which is clever if they want to avoid attracting attention.
Up here in the loft, the dragons with smudges on their cheeks are smirking, while the ones without marks have stiffened, their features drawn.Afraid, even.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, focusing back on my mother.
She points to her pale cheek.
“He didn’t choose me,” she cries. “He only chooses the strongest ones.”
Her lips stretch wide into a grimace—or maybe a snarl, I can’t tell which—as she continues. “The rest of us will be left to perish. There’s no future in the light.”
She isn’t making sense and I’m running out of time. I remind myself that taking the time to care about my mother could cost me dearly. Particularly because the chill running down my spine is so much stronger now.
Tyler’s coming closer.
“Mom,” I say quietly. “I deserved so much better than you allowed me to have.”
She scoffs at me. “You always wanted too much. Silly Sophia.”
“You deserved so much better, too.”
Her eyes widen at me, then fill with tears. She half-lifts out of her chair, a wobbly, uncoordinated movement. Her slap flies toward me, aimed at my face, but my bound hands shoot up, my reflexes firing.
I intercept her, catching hold of her arm and holding her tightly between my hands.
She gasps, flinches, and her lips twist, but she’s so unsteady that my hold on her is now keeping her upright.
I’m not sure if she ever loved me. I know she never protected me. I also know that this is the last conversation I ever want to have with her.
I wrap up my memories of her, and I put them away.
“I’m going to forget you now,” I say to her, my voice steady and certain. “If I meet you again, you’ll be a stranger to me. Not even someone I used to love.”
Releasing her arm, I allow her to drop back to the couch. She nearly misses the seat, catching the edge of it before she slides back into it and reaches desperately for her glass.
It’s time for me to move.
I remain standing as I turn calmly in Niah’s direction. “Thank you for giving me the chance to say goodbye to my mother.”
Niah’s face screws up in a snarl. “Sit down.”
“No.” Softly, I clap my hands, an awkward but not impossible movement.
At my gesture, the rope of dragon’s gold falls right off me and clatters softly to the ground.
