His door swung open, and his head appeared on the other side of the hood. “You can’t be serious.”
“Bye.” I wiggled my fingers and laughed when he growled. He was still staring at me with a lost puppy expression when I reached the patio. I blew him a kiss and disappeared inside. The playfulness disappeared when I saw my parents.
Mom’s eyes were red, again. And Dad wore a helpless look as he cleaned his glasses, something he did when he got emotional. I dropped my books on the table with a thud and moved closer to his writing nook where they stood, worry and anger colliding inside me.
Chapter 2. The Truth
“What’s going on? And no more hedging or telling me it’s nothing.” My eyes volleyed between them. “You’d better not be getting a divorce because I will drag you guys to the nearest marriage counselor first.”
“Oh, honey,” Mom whispered, her voice shaking.
No. Not a divorce. My throat closed up, and my eyes smarted. Their unwavering love for each other was another constant in my life. So much had changed the last year that if they got divorced now, it would rip my world apart.
“You always said family came first and we stick together through thick and thin, so whatever it is, I need to know.”
Mom pulled me into her arms, tears racing down her face. “Of course, we’re not getting a divorce. Your father would be lost without us.” She chuckled through her tears.
She was joking now? I wiggled free from her arms and studied her tear-stained face.
“Then what is it? You taught me to always face new challenges no matter how daunting. I’ve never seen you cry… except when you dropped me off at the middle school that first time. I saw you through the window, so I cried, too.” Then another thought occurred to me. “You’re not sick, are you? You would tell me instead of hiding it like Raine’s parents did, right?” My eyes flew to my father. “Dad?”
“No one is sick, but there’s something we need to tell you.”
No divorce and no illness, then it couldn’t be bad. “Okay. Let’s sit down. Mom, would you like tea?”
“Yes, dear.”
I kissed her cheek and touched Dad’s arm. “Dad?”
“Something soothing would be nice.”
I went into the kitchen while they settled on the couch. While I waited for the water to boil, I munched on a banana. I placed organic chamomile teabags in three mugs. One mug had two definitions of a mother.
Mom: A hero that does whatever it takes to get things done.
Mom: One who is never wrong about anything.
The other said Dad’s Memorable Moments:
Unforgettable: December 16th
Memorable: July 29th
The first was my birthday and the second their anniversary. Both were gifts from me. Mom wasn’t big on processed foods, so I added honey to our drinks. I was starting to act like her. Echo had a sweet tooth, so I could see us in the future, me with my healthy, homemade non-fat yogurt while he binged on some cream-filled pastries packed with empty calories. I’d probably join him. He had a way of making me do things I was unsure about and love them. Nah, I doubted I’d ever go completely healthy. I loved Twizzlers, especially after a possession.
I glanced over at my parents and found Mom wringing her hands. Dad had disappeared. I opened my mouth to ask her where he was when he appeared on the stairs. He was carrying a green cloth. Mom took it and folded it on her lap.
My mother was the strongest woman I knew. She would not break down like this over nothing. Whatever this was, we would work on it together.
I gave them their drinks. On a different day, they would have chuckled over my choice of mugs. This wasn’t the first time I’d used cocoa or tea in mugs with pithy words to smooth over a squabble. Something was definitely different this time. My parents wore stricken expressions.
“You guys are really scaring me now. What’s going on?”
Mom put her drink down without sipping it and reached for Dad’s hand, forcing him to relinquish his mug. He patted her hand. Since I was on the adjacent chair and closest to her, she reached for my hand, too, and squeezed it gently.
“First, we want you to know that we love you very much,” Dad said.
A hollow feeling settled in my stomach.
“I know, Dad.”
“I remember the first time I saw you.” He shook his head and chuckled. “You had lungs on you. You didn’t just lie in your crib and coo like other children. You demanded attention and caught ours. Your mother took one look at you and knew you were the one for us.”
Confused, my eyes volleyed between them. “What are you talking about?”
“The day we adopted you. We knew you were the one for us from the moment we entered the nursery and heard you scream.”
The pit in my stomach widened. “I’m adopted?”
They nodded. Stunned, I stared at them. No, this couldn’t be happening. They were Mom and Dad. My parents. Everything I knew about them zipped through my head.
“No,” I whispered.
Mom inched closer. “Honey, I know it’s a shock.”
“Why?” I stared at her, my brain in shambles as I tried to think up words to deny what they were saying.
“Why did we adopt you?” Mom asked. “Because—”
“Not that. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
They looked at each other, and Mom sighed. “Because it didn’t matter. You were our daughter.”
“Were?”
“You still are, but things have changed. The reason you see souls is connected with who your biological parents are”—Mom started to sniffle—“and where you came from.”
Blood drained from my head. The damn pit was now a black hole. “You know I see souls?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“When you were young, you called them your invisible friends,” Mom added. “It was part of the reason we decided to homeschool you. We weren’t sure whether the runes we used would block your ability.”
I pulled my hand from Mom’s and sunk deep into my seat. “Runes? You know about runes? Wait. Did you say you used runes to block my ability? And I’d seen souls as a child?” What about Maliina and the medium runes she’d etched on me? She was the reason I saw souls, wasn’t she? “I don’t understand.”
“I think we should start from the beginning, dear,” Dad said and glanced at Mom. She reached for my hand again, but I shook my head and crossed my arms, hugging myself, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.
“We are Immortals, Cora. We came to this country from Ireland in the early seventeen hundreds, moved around the country as most Immortals do, and reinvented ourselves over and over again. Because we had to do that, we never had children of our own. Fifty years ago, we decided we’d lived a rich and fulfilling life and it was time to age gracefully. We stopped adding more healing runes, and without them repairing our cells, we started to age. We’d heard about a special adoption among Immortals, but we never thought to pursue it until we moved to Kayville and found a thriving community of Immortals here.”
“There are other Immortals like you?” I asked in a tiny voice. I knew about Svana and her friends, as well as Blaine, Lavania, Ingrid, and the Sevilles. That was it.
Mom nodded. “Yes. The Immortals here protected the orphans from those who would hurt them and supported each other, so we joined them. We got in touch with a representative of the adoption agency and told them we were interested in adopting a baby. So when the new ones arrived, someone got in touch with us.”
I was drowning in nowhere land, every breath I took hurting. “Arrived from where?”
“Other realms. We didn’t know who brought them here until recently. We just knew they were orphans from other realms.”
“Were you ever going to tell me the truth?”
Their faces said they weren’t.
“What changed? Why are you confessing now?”
“We wanted to keep you safe.”
“From what?” I snapped.