"Well, I think it's time for me to go.I am meeting up with Beatrice Banks, the wife of George Banks."Her eyes lock on mine before sliding to Samantha."He's a teacher at Berklee College of Music."
"Oh, wow.That's cool!"Samantha's excited squeal makes my jaw clench.
Alisha lets out a soft "ahh" and taps my arm.I realize my fingers are digging into her flesh and quickly release her.
Standing, I fix my mother with a warning glare."Mother, you're right.It's time for you to leave."
But she's not done.Halfway to the door, she turns."Alisha," her voice drips false sweetness."We haven't had a proper chance to talk, so I would like to invite you and Cole to come to a dinner party next week at my house."Her lips curve."If you're still together, of course."
Before I can shut this down, Alisha matches my mother's tone perfectly."Sure, we'd love to come."
What the hell?I stare at her, but she just raises that challenging eyebrow at me.
"Great, then that's settled."My mother's satisfaction sets off warning bells."Samantha, you can come too.I'd love to show all my friends my amazing granddaughter."
Sam's shy "Can I think about it?"makes me proud.She's learning.
"Oh, dear, take all the time you need.Cole will tell me if you're coming or not.It's not an obligation."
At the door, she leans close, whispering, "Cole, George wants to talk to you.He told me he called you several times, but you didn't call back.That's impolite."
"No, it isn't.I haven't changed my mind, Mother."
Her hand comes up to my cheek, and I fight the urge to step back."But your father would have loved you to—"
"Don't!"The word rips from my throat.
Her eyes fill with tears, but I force myself to stare at the wall behind her.This manipulation worked for sixteen years—not anymore.
"I made a choice, Mom."My voice is steel."Be glad you still have a successful son."
"But what if she has the same gift as you and your father?"Her words slice through my defenses."Do you have any idea how extraordinary that would be?Your father would be so thrilled."
"He's dead, Mom."The words hang between us like shattered glass.Her sharp intake of breath tells me I've hit my mark.
"I'm well aware that he's gone, Cole."Her whisper carries decades of pain."I was there."
The memory slams into me—blood, screaming, ivory keys stained crimson.My chest constricts as she turns and walks away, disappearing into the elevator.
Fuck.
I slam the door and stride straight to the balcony.The demons I keep locked away day after day claw at my skull, demanding release.My hands grip the baluster until my knuckles turn white, but it's not enough.The need to destroy something—anything—rises like bile in my throat.
Heels click behind me.Not now, Alex.Please.
"Cole?"Her voice, usually a balm to my soul, can't penetrate the darkness swirling in my head."What happened?"
"Nothing."I focus on the clouds drifting by, willing the memories away.
"Come on.Talk to me."
When I don't respond, she tries again."I understand from whom you inherit that stubbornness.Your mom is one strong, opinionated woman.Has she always been like this?"
"Yeah."Please stop asking questions.
I feel her studying me, weighing her next move."Okay, another question then.Try to answer with more than one or two syllable words."She pauses."What's behind the locked door in your bedroom?"
The demons roar.My hands clench into fists."Nothing."
