“Of course you haven’t. You’re a Hart. Not giving up is in our genes.” I could hear the smile in her voice, and I allowed myself to relax. If she could smile right now, then I could, too. “I’m sorry about everything that’s been done to you, Kitty. Truly.”
“I’m not.” As soon as I said the words, I knew they were true. “You and Knox gave my life meaning and purpose. I won’t lie and say it’s been easy, but nothing worth having ever is, right?”
“My husband used to say that all the time,” she murmured.
“Benjy did, too. It’s how he tried to get me to do my homework when we were in school.” I paused. “I’m sorrier for all you’ve been through. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”
Her arms tightened around me. “I could very well say the same about you. You’ll make it through this—you and Greyson both. I’m only sorry I won’t be there to see Victor’s face when he realizes he’s lost.”
I swallowed thickly. “I’ll make sure he loses everything.”
She smiled. “Good girl.”
We sat together on the couch for the rest of the night, neither of us bothering with sleep. She told me her life story, about growing up as a Hart and slowly realizing how wrong and twisted the world really was. About what thereal Daxton—my father—had been like, and Jameson, my half brother. She told me stories about the good memories she had with her family, even her mother, Augusta, and she lingered on the memories of Lila. I had already heard a number of her stories when she’d been educating me on her daughter’s life back in October, but this time, she told me personal ones—like what holding Lila for the first time had felt like. Seeing her first steps. Her first words, her first birthday, and the last time she’d seen her. Little moments I hadn’t needed to know when I was pretending to be her, but now that Celia knew she was about to die, I supposed it was cathartic to remember. Or maybe she just wanted to make sure the best moments of her life didn’t die with her.
“When I was younger, I always thought death was the worst possible thing that could happen to someone,” she murmured as the horizon slowly turned gray. We didn’t have much time left, but she didn’t speak any faster. Instead, she seemed to slow down, her gaze growing distant. “And then my husband was murdered, and they tried to kill my daughter, and I realized death isn’t the worst thing. It’s just the last thing. And endings are hard, that’s all.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I hope every day there’s something more.”
“More?” I said.
“Something after this life, in whatever form it takes. And that’s why I’m not scared,” she added. “Because the worst that can happen is nothingness. And while that’s a frightening concept, if there is something more—maybe they’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see my husband and daughter again, and that’s worth the risk any day. It’s something to look forward to.”
It was a small comfort as she faced her own death. But keeping her alive in a world where her family was long dead—that was the worst kind of cruelty I could think of. No matter how Daxton killed her, it would still be a mercykill. We would all die one day, and at least she wouldn’t have to live to see another without her husband and daughter.
When the knock sounded on the door at sunrise, she held me to her once more, close enough for me to feel her steady pulse. “Remember what I said. Don’t forget yourself, Kitty. Don’t forget your bravery. You’re not alone in this fight, and when the time comes, don’t hold back.”
“I won’t,” I said, my voice breaking. “I promise.”
She tucked my hair behind my ears and brushed her fingertips against my cuff. “That’s pretty,” she murmured. “You should wear that to my execution.”
My hand flew to my ear. Did she know what it was? If she did, she gave no more indication of it, and instead she stood and smoothed her dirty clothes. A pair of guards stood at the door with her shackles, and as she crossed the room toward them, I walked with her. My eyes welled as they secured her again, though her expression was strangely calm. I tried to remember what she had told me—that death wasn’t the end to her; it was a possibility for thereunion she’d been waiting for. But a lump formed in my throat anyway.
“They’ll be there,” I managed, embracing her one last time. “I’m sure of it.”
Her chains rattled as she hugged me back as best she could. “So am I.”
The guard cleared his throat, and at last we let each other go. Our eyes locked, and I remained absolutely still as the guards led her away, her neck twisted so she didn’t lose sight of me until the last possible moment. No—not me. Her daughter. Lila.