“Fighting isn’t going to solve anything,” I snap. “Fighting about this especially isn’t.”
It’s Kellan’s turn to try to talk, but I cut him off just as easily. “Look. I am not blind about this situation. I know what has to be done. But I can’t do it if all I’m doing is worrying about you two and whether or not you’re arguing.”
They just stare at me in shock.
I take a deep breath. Count to ten. Announce clearly, calmly, “We are leaving the bunker in the morning. There will be no further arguing about it. Understood?”
Before either can answer, I walk out the door, down the hallway, and into the bathrooms. I lock the door and flip the lid on the toilet so I can sit down. And then I stay there until my hands stop trembling.
Zthane didn’t argue with me about the need to go back home. Nobody really did, not after I shot the truth straight at them: hiding isn’t going to solve the Elders problem. Me getting out there and tracking this monster down will. And I am the one to break it to Bios. I tell him, “We are going to go back to Annar. You are going to be put in a cell at the Guard HQ. I am going to hunt down and wipe your father’s existence off the map.”
He nods, like he’s oddly proud of me. “The moment we go aboveground, remember I am beholden to my father’s desires again. He will find you as long as I know where you are.”
That’s okay. Actually, that’s more than okay with me.
I tell him, “Good.”
When I get home, before I go and see Cameron and Will, I make one of the most difficult phone calls I’ve ever had to make.
I call my mother.
She’s still in Belize, her mission extended as she manipulates plants in the rainforest to evolve. And, as far as I know, still unaware of what has happened. The Council was informed of my father’s death, but I had Zthane request I be the one to tell my mother. And now here I am, wondering how a person does that.
Songs of frogs and bugs sing at me across the static-y line. “How are you doing, Chloe?”
I crawl on my bed and curl into a little ball. I don’t answer her question. Instead, I tell her, “There’s something you need to know, Mom.”
She’s hesitant with her answer. “Is everything okay?”
No, I want to tell her. “Dad is dead.”
No words fill the space between us. Just the mournful cries of frogs and bugs.
I fumble through the next parts, but I manage to get them out. She stays silent the entire time, so much so that I wonder if she’s even still holding the phone against her ear.
But once I’m done, she says quietly, “I’m glad it was you who called to tell me.”
There are no tears in her voice, either ... just sadness, like mine. When we hang up minutes later, with her promising to come see me as soon as she’s back in Annar in the next few days, I wonder what she’s doing in Belize right now. Is she crying for her dead husband, a man she spent most of her life with but, in the end, drifted apart from? Is she in shock? Is she working through her grief?
I consider making a little screen so I can check in on her, but in the end, I don’t. My mother has always been a private person. She’s opened up a little over the last few months, and for that I am intensely grateful. But she is who she is, and even now, even when I wish I were with her so my mother and I could share a hug in our grief over a man I think we both barely knew yet lived with, I let her have her solitude.
Later that night, as I lay in bed, I think about my parents’ relationship. I was never privy to much of it, despite growing up in their household. They certainly weren’t affectionate, nor did they tell one another how they felt (at least, within earshot of me, I guess). Outside of seeing Alex’s loving parents, I just assumed this is what married people were like. They were more like roommates than lovers.
The more I think about it, the more my heart goes out to them. My parents deserved better. What they had slowly chipped away at them until they were strangers.
I think about how wonderful Cameron and Molly’s relationship was, and how Will still measures what love ought to be based on what his parents were like together. I think about how wonderful and beautiful it must have been for Cameron to even consider opening his heart up again, and of how their love made him stronger, not weaker. I think about the Graystones and how they are more than just partners; they’re best friends, too. I think about Cora and Raul, of how explosive and emotional they are together, and of how companionable Meg and Alex are with one another.
I think about how much I love Jonah, and of how the thought of spending the rest of my existence with him is something I hold so very close to my heart.