in front of her.
Grayson nods, but I notice that he doesn’t look at her. “The cops said there was something wrong with her brakes.”
“I see. I think I’m in shock,” she whispers, rubbing her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Her hands are shaking a little, and I hate to see her like this. I send Saint a message to tell him what’s happened and that Skylar needs him right now.
“I know she was horrible to me,” she continues, as if she feels like she has to explain her grief. Her eyes start to tear up, but she blinks away the pain, composing herself.
“You’re allowed to feel however you want,” I assure her, stroking her back. “You don’t have to justify anything, Skylar. We’re here for you, and there’s no judgment there, okay? We love you. And we will all help you get through this.”
She nods and gives me a small, grateful smile. Her eyes are full of pain, confusion and regret. Even in her death, Georgia messes with her daughter’s head. “I know. Thank you for coming here and telling me, Neville. I mean...Grayson.”
“Of course,” he replies, sounding defeated.
Georgia was evil, cruel and psychotic, but she raised a compassionate, strong daughter, and for that the world can be thankful. And at the end of the day Skylar only had one mother, and even if she didn’t turn out how anyone had wished, I think she’ll always mourn the loss of her.
“At least we don’t have to worry anymore,” Skylar says, smiling sadly. “Everyone I love is safer now, and I’m so sorry you all had to deal with everything she put us through.”
“You never did anything wrong,” Grayson says. “You have nothing to apologize for. If anything I should be saying sorry to you, for not stepping in earlier.”
Skylar ducks her head. “You were always kind to me. No one could save me from her. She was my mother.”
“I should have tried,” Grayson whispers, looking away.
Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath and reach for Skylar’s hand. “You’re going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay now.”
Saint arrives, swooping in and taking Skylar away. I know that she’s going to need his comfort, and we can’t imagine how difficult and confusing this moment must be for her. No one cares that Georgia’s dead, but we care about Skylar, and what she’s feeling right now. But we’re going to be here for her, like we always have, like her mother never was.
Some families are made from blood, and some are created by loyalty.
Some of us are lucky enough to have both, and if you do, then you’re truly blessed.
* * *
“It’s weird having you in here,” I admit to my father, giving him a hug. A few beers later, and we’re all sitting around still discussing everything that has happened. “How are you feeling?”
It has to be a bittersweet feeling for him. He was married to this woman, and loved her, even if it was in some twisted way.
And now, because of me, he could have had his hand in killing her.
He sighs before answering. “I’m okay, don’t you worry about me. At least I know that you’re safe now.”
There’s pain in his eyes, and he can’t hide that from me.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, so that the others can’t hear. He’s putting me first, like a father should do, and I’m grateful for that. I still don’t like seeing him hurt, though.
“So what really happened?” I ask, not buying the whole faulty brakes thing.
“Her car crashed into a tree,” Grayson says, giving nothing away in those familiar eyes. “She was the only passenger. The hotel manager found her and called the cops. She must have been speeding, or drunk or something.”
“Okay,” I say with narrowed eyes, not sure what to believe. “So she’s really gone, huh?”
Grayson nods, glances up at the sky, and then takes a deep drink of his beer.
The witch is dead.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
“So, I’m throwing a poker fund-raiser for the