Cole hands it to me, and I slowly rise to my feet. My hands shake as I inch my way toward her.
Cole grabs my arm, stopping me. “Let me go first,” he says in a whisper. He steps in front of me, holding me back with one hand while searching with the other. He opens the flap of the tent and crosses into an adjacent area shrouded in darkness. On the far side, a lump of blankets rests in the corner.
“Lexi,” the voice creaks.
My heart pounds in my ears as anger begins to strangle my chest. I know that voice. Something about it sends shivers up my spine.
Cole stops in his tracks, facing the blankets. He lifts his gun.
Slowly, I raise the flashlight, flicking it toward the voice. Movement from under the blanket startles me, and I drop the flashlight. A gasp escapes me when I see her unmistakable curly hair.
There’s no way.
“What’s wrong? Who is it?” Cole asks.
“It’s no one; let’s get out of here,” I whisper in a shaky voice.
“Lexi, please,” the woman says.
“Then why does that woman keep saying your name?”
“Oh, it is you.” Her voice is so soft and weak. “I knew it.”
“Because everyone here knows my name,” I say to Cole. “Now put the gun down, and let’s get out of here, now.”
“My name is Katherine,” the woman says to Cole.
I draw in a sharp breath.
“I’m Lexi’s mother.”
“Wait, what?” Cole asks, taking his eyes off the sights and partially lowering his gun.
“I’m serious, Cole, now,” I say, attempting to pull him away. But he doesn’t budge. “What are you doing?”
“Is that woman your mother?”
“No. She’s not. Please come with me, or I’ll go without you.”
“Now hold up, if she’s messing with you … ”
“Shine the light my way,” the woman says. “Let her see my face.”
“Don’t,” I say to Cole in a demanding tone as I bend to pick up the flashlight. “I’ve been through enough today; I don’t need to see her. I just want to leave.”
Cole’s eyes narrow at me, and I can tell he’s not going to let this go. But I don’t want to do this, not now; there’s nothing but bitterness in my mouth when I think about her. And as much as I thought I’d forgiven her … there’s a part of me that wants to tell her how I really feel. Because being betrayed by your own flesh and blood is a wound that might scar over, but the damaged tissue still remains. I was sent here because of her. All of this is her fault.
Every muscle in my body tightens, and my free hand clenches into a fist of rage.
“Give me the flashlight,” Cole says.
“I’d rather not.”
In a low voice, he says, “I’m not asking anymore.” He snatches the flashlight from me and shines the light toward her face. She blinks away from it.
My nostrils flare as I raise my gun toward her head. My hands shake, and my blood rushes through my ears, as the realization dawns on me. She’s really here, lying underneath blankets, in front of me. Her curly hair’s matted and gray down the middle. She pulls herself up onto her elbows and faces me. I gasp when I see the black brand snaking around her neck. Sloth … how ironic.
“Is that her?” Cole asks.
I swallow hard, and my body stiffens.
“Lexi?” Cole asks.
My breathing increases. I try to calm myself, but with one glance, Cole knows the answer to his question.
“Lower your gun,” Cole says to me. “She’s no threat to you now.”
“I never was,” my mother says.
“Shut up,” I say to her.
“Lexi, it’s not what you think,” she says. “Can we talk … alone?”
“No we cannot. I have nothing nice to say to you, and I’m not going to waste my breath or my time.”
“You need to hear this.”
“I don’t need to hear, nor do I want to listen, to anything you have to say.”
“I understand why you’re angry with me, but—”
“No. There are not buts,” I say, raising my voice. “You turned on me, your own daughter … and instead of protecting me, you accused me, of something you knew for a fact never happened. You sent me to the most dangerous place in the country. And for what? What did I ever do to you? What did I do that was so wrong?”
“I love you,” she says.
“Don’t you dare say that to me.” All my muscles tighten, and I clench my jaw so hard it sends pain to my ears.
In the back of my mind, I hear Keegan’s words. “I don’t think she accused you for the reason you think she did.” But I’m exhausted and can’t think straight. Seeing her in the flesh takes everything I have left.
I lower my gun and shake my head, too confounded to speak for a moment.
“Lexi, I’m begging you,” she says.
“I don’t owe you anything.” I narrow my eyes at her.
“Your stepfather figured out what was going on,” she says.
“Stop. That’s enough.”
“He broke into the study and found everything.”
“I don’t care.”
“He figured it out; he realized what was going on.”