The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,86

the pain in Maurice’s eyes, the devastation on his face. But she felt no regret or shame. He was her father, and he had tried to kill her. She’d thought that maybe once he got his memories back she’d feel as if there were some possibility for reconciliation, or healing. But now Harper realized that she did not want either of those things.

He had allowed the Church to turn him into a monster. There was no world in which she forgave him for that.

“I told your mother what happened,” he continued. “We’ve both agreed that it’s best I leave town. Not just for the evacuation?—for good. It’s not safe for me to be around you anymore.”

Harper’s throat went dry. Out of all the things she’d thought he might say, she’d never expected this. Maybe he wanted her to beg him to stay. Maybe he wanted her to promise that there was a chance for this, for things to heal.

Harper would not give him false hope.

“Good,” she said softly. “I’m glad you understand that family is a privilege, not a right.”

“Yes. It’s a privilege I don’t deserve anymore.” Maurice’s voice shook, but he continued on, the words hoarse. “I know you might think I’m a coward for doing this. But I love you, Harper. I’m sorry. And I will spend the rest of my life atoning for what I’ve done.”

Then he turned and walked toward the car.

Harper understood that it was probably the last time she would ever see him. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. The car pulled out of the driveway, exhaust drifting into the crisp fall air, and Harper felt grief and guilt and relief course through her all at once.

Then she took a deep breath, wiped away her tears, and walked back to the Carlisle cottage, pushing open the front door.

“Hey, Mom?” she called out, determined not to let the last few minutes overwhelm her. “I’m here to help you pack.”

It took almost a half hour to get the younger Carlisles out the door. Harper bundled Brett and Nora into the car, kissed a babbling Olly on the forehead, then turned to her mother.

She had never had much to say to Laurie Carlisle. But today, she had two words.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and her mother smiled, pain trembling at the edge of her face.

“You’ll come home?” she asked. “When we’re back?”

Harper nodded. “I will.”

And then they were gone, too. Which left Harper, Seth, and Mitzi standing awkwardly on the porch. They were too powerful to be enticed into leaving. Harper had felt their gazes boring holes into her the entire time she’d been packing.

She braced herself for impact, just as she had back at the Saunders manor the month before.

“Well, go on,” she said. “I know you’ve got shit to say.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about Dad?” Mitzi asked, yanking on a lock of her long red hair.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Harper said. “Or if you’d even believe me. You didn’t seem to give a shit about Augusta.”

“He tried to kill you.” Seth glared at her. “That’s pretty different from what the sheriff does with her powers.”

“Seriously, Harper, did you think we wouldn’t care?”

“Of course I thought you would care!” Harper hesitated. “There was just no good way to tell you.”

“But your friends knew, didn’t they?” Mitzi asked. “You let them in.”

Harper caught the implication of Mitzi’s words. Her siblings were right?—she’d left them out. Kept the truth from them the same way so many truths had been kept from her. She hadn’t intended to lie and run away, but that didn’t matter. She’d done it anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you the truth.”

“Thank you,” Seth said. “And we’re sorry, too. That you felt like you couldn’t.”

“I just don’t understand,” Mitzi said. “Why did you leave us alone with him when you knew he was dangerous?”

Harper’s chest ached at the betrayal in her sister’s eyes.

“I know how messed up it sounds, but I think… even after everything Dad did, part of me still wanted to protect him. It felt cruel to punish him for a crime he couldn’t remember committing.”

So instead, she’d punished everyone but her father for his mistakes. The shame of it threatened to swallow her whole. But Harper knew she had to stare it down, because letting this go any further would only hurt them all more.

“Oh,” Mitzi whispered, her brown eyes wide and watery.

“You deserved better,” Harper continued, her voice wobbling. “I haven’t exactly been the best sister,