on some assignment and they haven’t tracked her down. At least Del’s safe.”
“Being in custody isn’t safe, Foster. The Major Consort’s not going to accept Del’s apologies.”
I stepped into the light. “I’m not apologizing. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Del!” The word came on a gasp. My mother flew across the room and wrapped her arms around me. “What on earth—why didn’t you tell us they released you?”
My dad approached more slowly, taking in the bruises and cuts, the splint on my finger, the way I winced at my mom’s embrace.
“Because they didn’t,” he said.
My mom’s arms fell away.
I pushed my hair out of my face. “Addie’s okay. She’ll come by once things settle down.”
“You’re hurt,” my dad said, and the words seemed to snap my mother out of her daze.
“Sit,” she ordered, guiding me to my old chair. I let her ease me down, watched as she put on the kettle for tea. My hands rested in my lap, and my father looked at the splint, eyebrows raised.
“What happened?”
“Lattimer.” The word burned as I said it, caustic in my throat.
“He promised us they only wanted to talk to you,” my father said, eyes welling up. “He knew you were confused, that Monty had been manipulating you all along. He was sure that they could make you see sense. Prove to you that the Free Walkers were spouting nonsense.”
“He talked to me in an oubliette. He gave me this.” I held up my hand. “And this.” I pulled my hair back so they could see the green-and-purple bruise of my cheekbone. “And more that you can’t see.”
My mom’s eyes shimmered, her lips tightening, color draining from her face. “We didn’t know, Del. You’ve always been so headstrong . . . we believed him. ”
“You still do. All of you do.” I shook my head. “I get it. Why you believe the Consort, why you fall in line.”
“The Free Walkers,” she murmured. “The boy who died . . . none of it makes any sense.”
“It would, if you’d listen to me.”
“It’s the only way,” my father said. “The Key World . . .”
“Is ours to protect. And so are the Echoes, whether you like it or not.”
He drew a breath, but I held up my hand. “I’m not here to argue with you. You believe what you have to. It’s going to change soon, and when it does, when the Walkers start over, maybe we can too. But that’s not why I came.”
My mom’s fingers knotted together. I’d never noticed before that we all did it—Rose, my mom, Addie, and me. A nervous habit, fighting back the urge to reach for the strings, to reach for other people, to reach out and find comfort or strength or direction.
I covered her hands with mine. “Rose is dead. Not gone. Dead. She died helping me escape from the oubliette.”
She rocked backward, taking the news like a blow, and my dad was beside her instantly. I’d always envied the bond between them, so strong that it crowded out the rest of us. Now I was grateful for it, because it meant that even after I left, they wouldn’t be alone.
“Did she suffer?” my mom asked, barely a whisper.
My dad’s eyes met mine. There is a limit to how strong any one person can be, and my mother had just reached hers.
Rather than break her, I bent the truth. “She was brave,” I said. “She was smart and brave and fierce, right up to the moment she died.”
“What about your grandfather?”
I exhaled slowly. “Without Rose, there was no reason for him to stay. He’s Walking the Echoes. I don’t think he’ll come back.”
She sank into the chair, shoulders shaking, face in her hands.
“And you?” my dad asked. “What are you going to do? Run from the Consort for the rest of your life? That’s not a future. They’ll find you again. Not through us, never again, but they will find you.”
“They’re going to have bigger problems to deal with, believe me.”
“You can’t leave,” my mom said as I stood. “Del, please. We’re sorry. We didn’t know what they’d do, and if you stay, we can figure out some way to get you out of this. But you can’t leave us, not now. Not after we almost lost you.”
“You wanted me to choose my future,” I reminded them, keeping my tone gentle. “And I have. But it’s not here, and it’s not among the Consort—not as it stands now.”