Bishop looked unconvinced. “Do you think they would fall for it twice?”
“We can fuel the gossip for a day or so, really play up the idea of a makeup date night. The pack loves to gossip, especially about Midas and me. We’ll keep the details and the location to ourselves until the day of to limit the amount of time the bomber has to scope out the place.”
“Advance warning means we can get cameras in place to catch what we miss,” he said, more convinced. “We can pull in backup from a few different sources so we’re set for whatever the coven hits us with next.”
Whoever the bomber was wearing to soak up gossip might not be who they wore when they committed the crime, and that skin could be swapped out just as fast for one capable of spitting the magical fire we now knew could kill me and Ambrose both. The coven was not making this easy on us.
“I’ll put out feelers,” Bishop said, taking a healthy step back, “see if I can find a place.”
“Sounds good.” I frowned at his expression. “Let me know when you’re finished testing the team.”
“Will do.”
“Where are you…?”
Easing into the shadows, he was gone before I finished asking the question.
“Hadley.”
Slowly, I turned my head toward the Faraday and spotted Tisdale striding down the sidewalk toward me.
“Oh, hi.” I waved like an idiot. “How’s it going?”
“Better now that I’ve seen you for myself.” Her strong, thin arms encircled me in a hug I expected to be ten levels of awkward but was actually kind of…nice. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I handled it.” I withdrew from her embrace, spotted her scowl, and blurted, “And I’m A-okay. Not a scratch on me.”
“We’ll see.” She took my hand and tucked it against her side, tugging me after her. “Abbott can be the judge of that.”
“That’s okay. Really. I saw him yesterday.” I yanked, but she dragged me. “You know what they say. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“You’re worse than Lethe was as a girl.” Tisdale nodded to Hank, who smirked at me with his smirky face that needed punching for always having salt ready to apply to any open wound. “She would dream up any excuse to avoid the healer.”
“I can’t imagine why.” I stumbled into the lobby. “Healers are so kind and gentle.”
We drew stares as she hauled me into the elevator and mashed the down button.
“We’re lucky to have someone as skilled as Abbott. He truly has a gift.”
As often as he had patched me up, I could hardly argue with her there.
“Did something happen to you when you were a child?”
Whipping my head toward her, I had to search to find my voice. “What do you mean?”
“To make you hate going to the doctor.”
Sweet relief sluiced through me, and I missed whatever else she said over the roaring in my ears.
Mother had refused to take me after the age of six or seven. I had too many scars, too many bruises, too many secrets. I took over-the-counter medication and prayed it did the job. Otherwise…well…I doubt the outcome would have bothered her too much. Especially after Macon was born.
Fear kept me alive more than any gel capsule. Fear she would develop an interest in him. Fear she would age me out and decide there was an easier target under her roof.
There was a reason why I stayed home to attend college, and plenty of reasons, aside from my own horror and heartbreak, that the disownment had terrified me.
That one decision kicked me out of the Pritchard household for good.
And since I had never told anyone anything, no one grasped why that was the worst-possible outcome.
Clearing my throat, I kept my voice light. “Midas didn’t mention my childhood?”
“Hadley,” she exhaled. “There is more to you than meets the eye.” She wrapped a lean arm around my shoulders. “More to your past and your present than you’ve told me.”
“Midas knows” was what I said, but even he hadn’t seen the whole picture.
“I don’t doubt that.” She rubbed my upper arm. “What I hope is that one day, you’ll confide in me too.”
“There are things I haven’t told anyone.”
“We all have those things, sweetheart, and for the most part a secret or two doesn’t hurt anyone.” She gave me a gentle squeeze. “Just remember, a secret loses its power when more people learn it.”
For the barest moment, I rested my head on her shoulder and breathed in the scents of earth and sugar.
I would have liked having a mom who smelled like her, like growing things and sprinkle cookies.
“Thanks.”
She kissed the side of my head. “Tell me that again after Abbott is through with you.”
Groaning, I let her march me into his office. I ducked my head to look extra pitiful, but also so she wouldn’t see the silly grin tickling the edge of my mouth as she mothered me better than mine ever had.
Only after Abbott pronounced me hale and hearty did Tisdale escort me to the lobby where my stomach dropped into the soles of my feet as if the elevator car had plummeted down the shaft with us in it. The wobble in my knees sent her into a tizzy, and she would have hauled me back to the infirmary if I hadn’t lied about tripping over the threshold.
She was standing in the lobby dressed in a nice pantsuit.
My mother.
Annabeth Pritchard.
Matron Pritchard.
A sour expression puckered her lips, and her sharp eyes missed nothing. Including my stumble and the attention it drew to Tisdale and me. A quick assessment dismissed me as anyone of importance, and that was…relief…rushing through me to tingle in my fingertips.
Part of me had always expected her to pierce my glamour with that cold stare
