Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta #4) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,42
too young for his years, he whispered, “Linus.”
Rising gracefully, she walked to the edge of the loft and stared down. “Mr. Lawson.”
From where he knelt, Midas saw Linus tip back his head. “Yes?”
“Harm this child, and I will split you open from neck to navel and feast on your entrails.”
“I gave her my word I would stop her if no one else had the strength,” he said softly. “I’m not a liar.”
“She doesn’t know,” Grier murmured, hand on his arm. “She can’t know.”
“I’m a dybbuk,” Hadley croaked, her head tilting toward Tisdale. “Do you know what that is?”
Expression thoughtful, his mother folded her arms across her chest. “That explains…many things.”
Grinding the heels of her palms into her eyes, Hadley rubbed away her disorientation.
“There’s only one dybbuk who’s been named and lived.” His mother touched her lips. “You’re Amelie.”
“Amelie Madison née Pritchard,” Midas confirmed when Hadley left her hands over her eyes.
“That was the secret you’ve been keeping,” his mother mused. “I expected it to be spectacular, but I find myself impressed despite all expectations.”
From between her fingers, Hadley asked, “You’re not mad I lied to you?”
“None of us are who we were born. We evolve from the day we enter the world until the day we leave it. That’s life.” She flicked a glance at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. “Most of us retain our birth names so that we can be recognized no matter how much we change, but some of us discard those too.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Names are labels, they have power, but they can be peeled off or written over.”
Still hiding in the dark, Hadley dared another question. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t care who you were in your previous incarnations. I care who you are now.”
“What if that changes again?” Her fingers slipped lower. “What if I change again?”
“Change is inevitable, sweetheart, and all any of us can do is hope that the skin we choose to shed is less than the new one we have decided to wear.”
Dropping her hands to her sides, Hadley stared at the ceiling like it might provide her with guidance.
“I need Linus to keep his word.” She pushed herself upright. “I need him to act when others hesitate.”
“I understand.” His mother angled her head toward Linus. “Apologies, Mr. Lawson.”
“Accepted,” he said with ease. “Can we see her now?”
“I’ll come down.” Hadley swung her legs over the edge of the futon. “There’s no room for a party up here.”
Midas wished he took more comfort from her words, which sounded almost right, but her tone was flat and her eyes empty.
“I’ll do the honors.” He scooped her up and carried her toward the stairs. “I don’t mind.”
Hadley leaned her head against his chest, placed her hand over his heart, and shuddered just once.
Midas hit the bottom, his mother behind him, but he struggled to close the distance to Linus and Grier.
“You didn’t have to drive all the way here.” Hadley struggled weakly until he set her on her feet. “I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re fine,” Grier warned. “You’re not. I’m not. No one in this room is okay right now.”
“What do you want me to say?” Hadley folded her arms across her stomach. “He was my brother.”
“And he loved you more than anything in the world.”
“And Addie…” Hadley hunched over like she might be sick. “She’s…gone. I never told her…”
Unable to witness more of Hadley’s pain, Grier rushed her, and Midas gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at her. Grier yanked Hadley against her and squeezed until sobs burst from them both.
Slowly, so as not to provoke Midas, Linus joined them, stroking the curved line of Grier’s spine.
The elevator chimed, and it carried through the apartment’s open door.
Remy ran across the hall and skidded to a stop before colliding with Grier, Linus, and Hadley.
“There were no bodies,” she shouted, fist pumping the sky. “No bodies.”
Grier closed her eyes as if it might erase the past few hours if she screwed them shut tight enough, but Hadley broke from the huddle to clasp Remy by her wrists in a bruising grip.
“What are you talking about?” Her voice wavered. “How do you know?”
“Do you think I wasn’t here with you because I didn’t want to be?” She made a dismissive noise. “Unlike these losers, who came to you empty-handed, I brought news.”
Hope draining from her expression, Hadley shook her head. “The heat…”
“Me, myself, and five other Is spent the day sifting through the debris after the cleaners left.” She