the beginning of the end. I recognized it, and I was grateful we traveled around so much because it meant your grandmother wasn’t there to tell me, ‘I told you so.’”
Tears pricked my eyes. “It was my fault?”
Her focus seemed to turn outward at that, and briskly, she muttered, “No, of course not. It wasn’t you. It was the curse.”
“The curse.”
I repeated that flatly.
She pursed her lips. “Yes. You don’t have to believe me—”
But didn’t I?
Look at what had happened after I met Adam?
I’d been rolling along, living my life, not particularly happy or sad, just getting through the days, using the pool as a coping mechanism.
Then, he’d come into my existence, blown the doors wide open, and all of a sudden, I was being drowned in a pool.
Cain was in jail.
Because of me.
Most of the kids at school hated me because they thought that little act of attempted murder had only been a hazing joke gone wrong, and I had too large a stick up my ass to recognize it as such. Because, yeah, I had the ability to control whether the Justice Department deemed something was a crime or not, didn’t I?
But—and it was a massive but—could it be considered a curse to be drawn out of poverty, without much hope for the future except for community college courses I couldn’t afford, and suddenly be soaring into a whole other world?
I wasn’t talking about riches, wasn’t even talking about getting into Stanford for free.
I was talking about the Olympics.
I knew I had it in me to reach the national team. So did Coach.
I’d already had spotters attending my meets. I knew the interest was keen.
If the Olympics hadn’t taken place the year I was just starting to make a name for myself on the scene, I had no doubt I’d have been on Team U.S.A already. As it was, Tokyo was the end goal, and I knew, deep in my bones, I had it in me to reach those dizzying heights.
Even more so, I knew I had it in me to take gold.
I rubbed my hand over my mouth, pondering all that before I said, “Lots of battered women defend their husbands.”
She snorted. “They don’t defend them after they’ve killed them. I knew I had to. The second he went after you?” She shook her head. “I knew there was no going back. I condemned him the second I took him into my heart and let myself love him. It was all my fault.”
That she believed what she was saying was clear to me. There were even tears in her eyes, and it boggled my mind because I knew they weren’t for her or for me, but for him.
Her abuser.
This was all kinds of wrong. So many kinds of fucked up that I didn’t know where to begin.
But she believed it.
And I could see what she meant where the gift and the curse were concerned, which worried me even more.
“I tried to heal someone a few years ago.” I’d done it since, with the girl in school, but that hadn’t gone wrong. Not like Louisa’s.
My statement had her brows rising. “You did?” She winced. “Went badly?”
“Yes.”
“Not surprised to be honest. Momma said her first healing was the worst. She burned herself out for five years, only managed to get her powers back when—”
“When what?”
“When she met her one.”
I’d already met Adam, so it wasn’t like that would revive my powers… but, did I even want them back at full throttle? Just healing that kid in school had been enough to tire me for a week. Inviting that into my life wasn’t something I wanted, selfish or not, I didn’t want that kind of responsibility.
Uncertainly, I muttered, “I-I only found out about you because of someone called Lavinia.”
“Vinnie never could keep her trap shut,” Genevieve muttered, but there was a rueful amusement to the words that told me she wasn’t annoyed.
“She said Nanny knew her one, but they didn’t marry.”
“No, they didn’t. She was smart. I wasn’t. It isn’t just his life you’ll ruin if you stay with him, Theodosia.” She peered around the caged walls. “It’s your life too. I’d hate for you to end up a bitter shell like me. Craving the one you lost, the one you hurt by being selfish.”
For a second, my mouth just worked. I had no answer to that. No answer for that. What was I supposed to say?