“Where is your mother?” she finally asked, addressing our father.
“She died thirteen months ago,” Dad returned dryly as if he had fully gotten over it. Which he hadn’t.
Ms. Adams looked at him, startled. There was pity in her expression, and she hesitated.
I looked at Mia. She was suffering the most from our grandmother’s absence, and I would have loved to give her a hug right now, but she probably would have pushed me away.
“I didn’t know...” Ms. Adams was still staring at our father.
“My sincere condolences.” She brushed one of her blonde strands behind her ear. “I wish I had known her better.”
Fortunately, she didn’t elaborate. But there was concern in her words. Concern for my father.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” She pointed to a cozy dining area that adjoined the kitchen. I obeyed and Mia took a seat across from me.
“Bay, will you please come down? Our guests are here!”
“Yes, Mum, in a minute...” an annoyed girl's voice groaned from upstairs.
I knew immediately that Bay had to be Ms. Adam’s charming daughter.
Just this morning I had heard her clumsy footsteps before I had felt her gaze on my bare skin.
The memory sent a strange shiver across my body, and I tried to focus on the silverware in front of me.
“How old is your little girl?” Dad asked with interest.
“Bayla is 17, but her birthday is on Friday.”
I wondered if being that age made you part of the Circle...
“Then you’re here for the ceremony?” my father asked.
“What ceremony?” Mia looked curiously at Ms. Adams.
It could only be some Quatura thing. They were known for their rituals and festivities.
But Ms. Adams raised her head in alarm and looked toward the stairs before looking back at Dad and shaking her head.
“She doesn’t know, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Interesting...
“She doesn’t know?”
With an astonished expression, Dad looked at Ms. Adams, but she quickly avoided his gaze and hastily began cutting the tomatoes.
“We’ve lived just fine without all this stuff until now,” she whispered in a rush.
Now, it made sense. The reason she and my father got along so well.
They both had nothing to do with the dark side of the town. Only then, why had Ms. Adams come back here? It was like she was walking into the knife with her arms open....
“What’s going to stay that way?”
I turned around and there she stood. Her hair was neater than last time, and she was wearing a midnight blue knee-length dress, which accentuated her waist pretty darn well. Quite different from yesterday, where she had been dressed anything but feminine.
I myself felt minimally underdressed with my dark blue t-shirt and dark jeans.
Bay must have noticed that I was eyeing her. She blinked at me darkly.
Dad, who had wanted to comment a few seconds ago, sat down next to me at the table.
Ms. Adams placed a casserole dish with aromatic ingredients in the center of the table before joining my father at the end of the table.
The smell of the food caught all of my attention.
“We were just talking about the move...,” Ms. Adams explained to her daughter. “...And about staying here for a while first.”
Speechless, I watched Ms. Adams’ expression. She remained as cheerful as ever. As if nothing was wrong.
Only what reason did she have for lying? I wondered whether a Quatura would notice at some point that they carried an element. Or maybe Bayla’s powers were too weak, which would explain why I couldn’t smell them. Still couldn’t.
Bay looked unimpressed at her mother, ignoring her comment about moving. A blind man could see she didn’t want to be here.
Where did she come from again? California?
