“Do you keep a log of all your victims, Patrick Michael Sherwood?” Preston’s tone was smug with a tinge of admiration. “I had no idea you were so organized and artistic.”
“I did not paint any of these and Janice was just a guest in my home! I do not know what happened to her.” Pat was telling the truth as far as he knew, but something felt wrong. Like he was forgetting something.
“Don’t be modest.” Preston growled as he adjusted his grip on Pat’s arm and continued taking him through the most threatening museum tour he had ever been on. “Oh…” Preston breathed as they came to the last picture. “This must be elusive Mrs. Owen Sherwood.”
Pat felt a twinge in the middle of his chest and fear spun in his brain. Curiosity won out and he looked where Preston was gazing. It felt like Pat was being introduced to his mother for the first time. She was a small, skinny woman with long auburn hair and nervous hazel eyes. Her hands were folded and a ghost of a smile played across her features. “Perdita Sherwood” was written at the base of the painting.
“Did you take your mother’s life?” Preston asked, preparing to be even more impressed.
“She. Left. Me!” Pat growled. “I am not a psycho like you.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”
“Bring him to the tree.” Said a voice in Pat’s mind.
“I cannot.” Pat whispered.
“Who are you talking to?” Preston demanded.
“Tell him and he will take you.”
“Do you want to see where I took Janice?” Pat managed to muster. Despite his anger about being accused of murder, he knew the voice had never led him astray before. He would take Preston to the place.
“Yes, lead the way.” Preston loosened up his grip on Pat’s arm and Pat took him through familiar doorways and outside to the stone throne below the tree.
Pat blinked a few times and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he was able to see the figure on the throne clearly. Her feet and hands were both uncovered. A sword was belted at her hip. The neckline of the dress was a deep v to showcase a necklace that looked like the sunbeams from half the sun. Her tall, willowy frame was dressed in strips of gauzy black fabric to create a dress. Every inch of visible skin was nearly paper white. But the most magnificent thing about her was her waist-length red hair and a tall crown that looked like it had been carved from charcoal.
The shaking began in Pat’s hands and his head started to spin. Justice was in front of him in the flesh.
“Let go of him.” Justice said to Preston crisply. Preston obeyed and Justice nodded in satisfaction. She then turned to Pat with a weary smile. “You’re here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
LACEY DROVE HARMONY to her mother’s house and she felt an ache in her chest. It had occurred to Harmony that this woman might not even be her mother, which called into question everything she knew about her life.
When Wendy answered the door, her fists were balled at her sides. She looked like she was torn between hitting her daughter and hugging her. “Harmony, where in the world have you been? I thought you had been kidnapped or worse!”
“Can I come in?” Harmony asked meekly. No matter who this woman was to her, she hated making her worried.
Wendy nodded stiffly and backed up to allow her inside. Harmony paused as if expecting her mom to trip her, then she stepped up into the house. Once in the living room, she sat on the couch and Wendy sat in the chair in front of her.
Harmony took a deep breath and started explaining to her mother what had happened. When she began explaining what Lacey had said about Harmony’s true identity, Wendy’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked more serious.
“So, Lacey said I should come speak to you.” Harmony finished, using Lyric’s real name even though it felt strange. “Are you my mother?” She asked abruptly.
Wendy swallowed and looked towards the TV even though it was off. “I feel like your mom.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“But the only thing that matters is that I love you. I would do anything for you.”
“Besides tell me the truth?” Harmony quipped.
“The truth isn’t always the best thing.” Wendy swung her gaze back around to Harmony.
“I need to know. There is a lot we don’t understand about this new technology and if we don’t get ahead of it, it could hurt others.”
Wendy was chewing on her thumbnail. Harmony had never seen her mother this anxious before. She usually was comfortable with confrontation and telling the truth. This was the only time Harmony had seen her mother sweat.
“I worked for the government in the witness protection program. The way that we handled the program used to be very different before the chip implementation began. We had discovered a way to put people into witness protection and make them forget their old life so they couldn’t even put themselves in harm’s way.” Wendy sighed. “You were so scared. You were one of the first people to volunteer. They gave you an entirely new identity and I helped by changing your physical appearance.” Harmony’s heart sank further and further as the pieces all came together. “I had helped so much with your rehabilitation and placement that they asked if I would take on the responsibility of being your mother. I agreed.”
“Why would I agree to this?” Harmony wailed.
“You were so scared. It was such a high-profile case.” Wendy said simply. “Harmony…I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Harmony said honestly. Nothing could change that. This woman had stepped up when her real mother hadn’t. “Who was my real mom?”
The word “real” seemed to hurt Wendy. “I don’t know much about her but I was told she was an addict.” Wendy was just as blunt as Harmony, which had the desired effect.
Harmony’s heart sank. “An addict? So…”
“I don’t think she was really in your life.”
“No wonder I wanted to forget.” Harmony said.
Wendy didn’t respond. She was studying her feet closely to avoid making eye contact. In the silence, there was the abrupt tick of the clock in the kitchen and the sound of a pot of coffee finishing brewing. Life was moving on even though Harmony’s world felt like it was spiraling out of control.
“This doesn’t have to change anything.” Wendy said. “I am still your mom and I still love you.”
