My forehead creases with confusion. “So, what’s the problem?”
“My parents heard these awful lies about Zeke.” Cissy shivers. “Now I’m supposed to have an official chaperone with me at all times and, well, I know how much Mom and Dad trust you.”
“They think I’m a weird-tailed Arena fighter.”
“But they know you’d kill anyone who tried to hurt me.”
I pop another bite of salad into my mouth. She has a point.
Cissy starts blinking again. “Pleeeeeeeeease, Myla?”
I let out a low groan. The rumors about Zeke aren’t wrong, but I’ve known Mr. Smarmy McSlutster since kindergarten. He’s never let a girl meet his friends, let alone his family. I honestly think he’s okay around Cissy. Plus, if I can get access to diplomatic records, I may find something out about my father.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
***
The rest of the day is a blur of boringness, including the long drive home in Betsy. I step through my front door to a very happy mother.
“Welcome home, Myla!”
“Hey, Mom.” I give her a kiss on the cheek.
Mom plunks down onto the living room sofa and pats the empty spot next to her. “Guess what, sweetie? I was able to snap a few pictures of you and Cissy in your gowns before you got into the car. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
I sit down beside her. She presses the images into my hand. I look and wince. Even with all the flounces cut off the dress, it was still mighty puffy, like a neon pumpkin.
“Cissy looks beautiful.” I sigh. “And I look very orange.”
“You’re both lovely. Be sure to show these to Cissy.”
I set the photos into the pocket of my hoodie. “I will.” In another lifetime.
Mom smiles and pats my hand. She’s in a good mood. That means now’s the perfect time to get the Maternal Inquisitor to approve regular afterschool trips to the Ryder mansion.
“So, Cissy’s started dating this guy named Zeke Ryder.”
“Oh, I know the Ryder family from before the war.”
Wow, another random fact from Mom’s mystery past.
It’s going so well, I decide to keep things moving. “Now that Cissy’s dating Zeke, she goes to the Ryder mansion after school. Her parents want a chaperone, so they asked me along.”
Mom bounces in her seat. “Oh, the Ryder mansion’s beautiful! I have a map around here somewhere.” She takes to her feet and disappears into her room.
Okay, it’s totally sketchy that Mom has maps of the Ryder mansion squirreled away. She returns to the living room and plunks down onto the sofa, a pile of folded papers on her lap.
Opening the top map, Mom runs her finger across different points. “The Ryder mansion’s shaped like a giant letter ‘U.’ In the center of the building–the base of the ‘U’–is the reception hall. From there, you go to the West Wing–that’s where the Ryders live–or the East Wing.” Mom sighs. “The East Wing’s especially beautiful. It holds the ballroom, diplomatic offices, and library.”
“Diplomatic offices, huh?” I let the words hang out there. Mom doesn’t take the bait.
Instead, she points to another spot on the map. “Oh, and there’s the hedgerow maze right between the two wings. A lovely fountain’s at the center. After that, the grounds have tennis courts, botanical gardens, and all sorts of other things to entertain diplomats.”
“Whoa. Zeke’s house is way huger than I thought.” How-oh-how am I going to segue this conversation to get actual answers about Mom’s past?
Mom makes a tsk-tsk noise. “The grounds are actually a lot smaller now. You should have seen it before the war.”
“I would’ve liked that.” Man, it’s taking all my personal control (of which I have very little) not to push her right now for details.
“The library’s a marvel, be sure to check it out, Myla-la.” She flips to a different map that shows only the East Wing. It’s a long and thin rectangle made up of four floors. “The first floor’s the ballroom, the second’s diplomatic offices. The library covers both the third and fourth floors.” She shakes her head from side to side. “That library is unbelievable. The records cover everything from quasi government to demon history to ancient diplomatic archives.”
My personal control issues reach the breaking point. “Aren’t I doing a great job not asking you about the diplomatic stuff you did before the war?” My mouth starts moving on its own. “I mean, it’s pretty clear you worked in the diplomatic offices in the Ryder mansion. Maybe you met my dad there? Researched stuff in the library together or something?” I lean forward, my restraint level at zero. “Am I right?”
Mom opens her mouth as if to speak, but the words choke in her throat. She lets out a long sigh instead. “Has Verus sent you any dreamscapes yet?”
“Not since the first one we talked about.”
“Ah, well.” She rises to her feet. “Maybe soon.”
With that, Mom walks away and hides the maps again.
Damn.