Emily was sick today. She’s got an ear infection, the little darling. It breaks my heart to see tears in her eyes—though of course those didn’t last long, not once I got her to an M-Psy, but it was far too long for a mother to bear. You didn’t like it either. You were trying to give her your toys so she’d feel better. And you know what? For you, she hiccupped and played for a little while.
As I watched the two of you sitting there, you looking after her, I realized something. I’ve been so focused on how Silence would affect us that I haven’t given a thought to the future, to the unborn. If Silence succeeds, then there will come a time when children are born who’ll never be kissed by their mothers, mothers who’ll never hold their precious babes and breathe in that sweet, sweet scent as a tiny hand lies over their heart.
It seems such a simple choice, but . . .
Greg called tonight. He rarely does anymore, so your father tried to keep the conversation away from politics. They always fight when it strays in that direction. But while your father was out getting something for Greg, I made that point to your uncle—about the lack of love between mother and child.
Do you know what he said?
That so many women are falling prey to violence, we’ve already got a generation that doesn’t know what it is to sleep in a mother’s arms.
The worst of it is, he’s right.
Mom
CHAPTER 29
To Katya’s surprise, DarkRiver agreed to allow her to see Jon. A dark-skinned man with intense green eyes drove the boy over. As Katya spoke to him by a tree in the yard, the tawny haired woman who’d accompanied Jon reached into the backseat and came out with an armful of giggling little girl.
Noor Hassan.
Her heart clenched to see such open joy on the child’s face. Wanting to touch the girl, make sure she really was alright, Katya nonetheless made herself fight her cowardice and look at Jon.
“You’ve grown taller,” she said, wondering why she was surprised. Teenage boys rarely stayed the same from month to month. “Your hair, you cut it.”
He shrugged, sending the short strands of brilliant white-gold shifting in the sunlight.
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Tally asked.” There was something in his tone that told Katya he’d do anything for the woman who’d asked. “Plus, you never hurt me.”
“Didn’t I?” She sat down beside him when he took a seat on the ground, long legs stretched out in front of him. “I didn’t stop it either, though, did I?”
He gave her a narrow-eyed glance out of those brilliant blue eyes that had made him so easy to identify. Not many people looked like Jonquil Alexi Duchslaya. “What’re you talking about?” he now asked.
“I want to apologize.” It was time to face her crimes. “When Larsen hurt you, I didn’t stop him.” She made no excuses, because there were none.
“I heard your memory was messed up. Is it all back now?”
“Most of it.” There were still pieces missing, things, if she was being honest, her mind probably didn’t want to remember. She was at peace with that. Because Ekaterina, the woman who’d been a Psy scientist and later a victim, was gone. Katya had risen from the ashes, and she would make her own memories, her own future.
Jon gave her a funny look. “And you don’t remember that? He backhanded you fucking hard.” He winced. “Don’t tell Tally I swore, okay?”
Her entire body went taut. “Who backhanded me?”
“Lizard Man, Larsen, whatever.” Despite the careless words, he drew up his legs, putting his arms around his knees. But his eyes held concern, not fear. “He was doing stuff to me, and you said he’d gone far enough, that he was breaking the agreed-upon protocols.”
Her mind remained a blank on the incident. “Are you certain? He had drugs in your system.”
“Yeah, I’m certain. Not something I’ll ever forget, drugs or not.” He shook his head. “You tried to move his hand off my forehead and wham, that was when he backhanded you so hard, you ended up unconscious on the floor.”
Still no memory, but a bubble of hope. “How did he justify the hit?” Violence was supposed to have been wiped out by Silence, and Larsen had been pretending to be the perfect Psy.
“Dunno. You were out, so it wasn’t like you could call him on it.” He stared critically at her face. “I’m pretty sure I heard something crack. I thought he’d broken your nose or your jaw.”
A pulse of pain in her nose, a phantom memory. Hazy. Indistinct. But coming into focus. “Yes,” she whispered, raising her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “He said he’d had to do it to keep me from compromising the experiment . . . he did the medical work on it himself.”
“So don’t beat yourself up about it,” Jon said. “You were stuck, same as me. You did what you could.”
“That’s very wise for someone your age.”
He smiled and it was devastating, all charm and youth and a slight cockiness. “Shh. Everyone else thinks I’m hell on wheels.”