The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,71

Harper joined them at first, but Violet could tell the last few hours had shaken her up.

“I’m going to my room,” she said finally. “I need a break from founder stuff for a little while. Tell me if you find anything good, okay?”

“We will,” Violet said. “Get some rest.”

Harper nodded gratefully. Her footsteps were slow and labored as she climbed the stairs. Violet had no idea how her friend had managed to deal with her father like that. After what he’d tried to do to her, it had taken all of Violet’s willpower not to curse him out on Harper’s behalf. But Harper had told Violet beforehand that she would handle it, and somehow she had.

“All right,” she said, turning back to May. “I guess we should divide and conquer. It’s not really that much stuff.”

“I hope it’s actually helpful.” May looked doubtfully at the pile of papers in front of them. “This is the first day in ages I haven’t had a patrol. I don’t want to spend it wasting my time.”

“Hey, you agreed to help us with Harper’s dad.” Violet turned to the first file and tugged out a sheet of paper. It was a blueprint of the library. “You could have said no.”

“You know very well I couldn’t have.” May sighed and flipped open a yellowed newspaper clipping. “I consented to my mother taking the Church’s memories away because it seemed easier. But I knew deep down that it was wrong. I know I can’t fix everything she’s messed up, but I’d be the frosty bitch you all think I am if I didn’t try.”

May said it very flippantly. Violet knew that meant she felt just the opposite.

“I don’t think that,” Violet said, and she meant it. May was deeply private in a way even Isaac wasn’t. Maybe at first Violet had mistaken that for disinterest and even disdain. But she knew by now that it was a defense mechanism against a world that she did not trust.

“Sure you don’t.” May cast her a glance. “I’ve heard the shit people say about my mother when they think I’m not listening. They say it about me, too.”

“They might. I don’t.” Violet looked away from the blueprints. “I know we’ve rarely been on the same side here. But I promise, we both want the same thing: for this town to be safe.”

“I know,” May said. “But I’m not so sure my family has ever kept it safe.”

Violet had never heard May say something like that before. She certainly had her own doubts about the Hawthornes, about all the founders, but it was different to hear it from someone who was always so tightly wound. Her actions indicated that she didn’t approve of her mother’s conduct, but she was still helping Augusta. Or at least, Violet had thought she was.

“What do you mean?” She tried to keep her voice gentle.

“It’s complicated.” May’s glossy lips were parted slightly, her eyes a little unfocused, like she was watching something that only she could see. “Being Augusta Hawthorne’s daughter, I felt like I had something to prove?—to show I was worthy of her consideration. Justin made our family look good, and she kept all our secrets hidden. I never really understood what she wanted from me, but I knew that if I wanted her to care about me I’d have to be an asset, too.”

“But you read the cards. Doesn’t that make you a major asset?”

“You’d think so.” May frowned. “She still defended Justin, though. She still lied for him. Because he knows how to make people care about him, and I… I don’t.”

Violet remembered, in a rush, a part of Rosie that she did not like to think about. The girl who’d easily made friends while Violet ate lunch alone. The girl who let Violet tag along, sometimes out of pity. Rosie had been her best friend, her only friend, but Rosie had made a much bigger world for herself that Violet had never belonged in.

Violet still missed her sister terribly. But she knew what it was like to feel adjacent to the spotlight.

“Yeah, about that,” Violet said. “Justin’s my friend, but I have never understood Four Paths’ infatuation with him.”

May snorted. “Honestly, me neither. He can’t even make toast without setting something on fire, he won’t stop using Axe, and his room smells like something died in it.”

“Forget the corruption. This is the real mystery in town.”

May giggled, then paused, pain rushing over her face.

“Mystery solved, though,” she said. “They don’t

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