“Morgan!” Dylan called jovially when he saw his daughter at the door. “There’s pizza in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
Morgan didn’t look at her father; instead, she glared at her cousin. “What’s she doing here?”
Lynna’s lip curled. “My geometry final’s tomorrow, and Uncle Dylan is helping me study.”
Morgan made a face. She glanced at her father. “I’ll be in my bedroom.”
“No, why don’t you have a seat and eat something?” There was a steely glint in Dylan’s eye. “I insist.”
Morgan held her father’s gaze for a moment before dropping her eyes and complying.
“Why are you limping?” Dylan asked as she sat down.
“I twisted my ankle—it’s nothing.”
Dylan nodded. Then he got out of his seat. “I’ll go get you some pizza.”
Morgan and Lynna watched as Dylan left the room. After a few moments, he called, “Where have you been? Out with Corbin again?”
Lynna’s head whipped around so quickly Morgan thought she may have gotten a crick in her neck. “Corbin?” she asked, eyes wide. “Corbin Starling?”
Morgan sighed. “How many other Corbins do you know?”
“What does he mean, again?”
“He, Ris, and I went out to a party last night,” Morgan said, enjoying the look of horror mixed with envy that flitted over her cousin’s face.
“And where’d you go tonight?”
“I wasn’t out with Corbin tonight,” Morgan said. To add fuel to the fire, she added, “But Corbin and Ris are out on a date as we speak.”
Lynna just mouthed wordlessly. Before she could form a sentence, Dylan returned with pizza and a glass of pop for Morgan. As soon as Morgan started eating, Dylan drew Lynna’s attention back to the fascinating world of geometry.
Morgan ate her food quickly and excused herself to her bedroom. She was just laying down on her bed when she heard her door open. She turned to see her cousin standing in the doorway.
“The hell, Joss?” Morgan snapped. “Ever hear of privacy?”
Lynna rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her. She sat down on the papasan Corbin had fallen asleep on the day before. “So, like, a date-date? Or do you mean, like, a friend-date?”
“What’s a friend-date?” Morgan asked.
“You know, like, when friends go out. But, you know, a guy and a girl.”
“Well, they are kind of friends,” Morgan said. When a look of relief spread over her cousin’s face, she quickly added, “But that doesn’t mean he’s not interested in her.”
“But it doesn’t mean that he is.”
Morgan shrugged. “Maybe not. Still, how many times has Corbin asked you out—even only as a friend?”
“You’re a bitch.”
“Takes one to know one,” Morgan said lazily, staring at the ceiling.
Jocelyn crossed her arms and stared sullenly at the floor. It was minutes before she spoke again. “So, where were you tonight?”
“Like you care.”
“I’m trying here, okay?”
Morgan looked at her cousin. “Yeah? It might mean more if we weren’t in the privacy of my bedroom.”
“I tried talking to you the other night at the coffee house—”
“Only because none of your minions were around,” Morgan snapped. “That doesn’t win you any points.”
Joss let out an exasperated sigh. “Look—I’m sorry, okay?”
Morgan sat up, facing her. “For what?”
Joss threw her hands up. “I don’t know—everything? I’m sorry that you think I’m a bitch. I’m sorry that you got stuck being the freaky one and I got to be popular. I’m sorry I still have a mom and yours is gone—”
“She’s not gone,” Morgan began.
“It’s been ten years, Morgan,” Joss said quietly, averting her eyes. “If that’s not gone, I don’t know what is.”
“You’re wrong. She’s still alive.”
A look of pity washed over Joss’s features. “I know that’s what you want to believe. I believed it, too, for a long time—”
“It’s true, though,” Morgan insisted.
Joss closed her eyes and shook her head. “No it’s not.” She opened her eyes. “Morgan, I’m sorry, but sooner or later you’re gonna have to accept the truth. She’s dead.”
“Get out,” Morgan said quietly. When Joss made no move to comply, Morgan repeated herself, louder this time. And then louder and louder still. Before she knew it, she was on her feet, towering over her cousin and screaming. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”
Joss finally scurried from the room, slamming the door behind her. Morgan sank down into the papasan, sobbing. Despite Kellen’s assurances to the contrary, Morgan couldn’t help wondering—what if Joss was right? What if her mother really was dead?
When Dylan came in to check on her, she was completely unresponsive, but he was undaunted. Morgan heard the scrape of the legs of her desk chair against the wood floor, the sound of the chair accepting Dylan’s weight.
Minutes passed. The only sounds in the room were Morgan’s sobs and Dylan’s even breathing. Slowly, slowly, Morgan felt herself regaining control. It didn’t feel like it did when Wen calmed her or when Lucas had; instead, Dylan’s magic was simply letting Morgan realize what she was doing, letting her find her way back to center.
Finally, Morgan was able to look up at him. On his face was the same look of tight control bordering on detachment that he wore whenever she lost it—as though if he let himself be moved even a little he would lose it, too.
“What’s up, hon?”
A quick debate took place in Morgan’s mind. To tell or not to tell. Honesty finally won. “Joss said that Mom is dead.”
Dylan just nodded slowly, pressing his lips together in a tight line. “I’m not surprised. Your uncle’s been telling Aunt Ashleigh for years to give up on your mom ever coming back. He thinks that accepting she’s gone will be easier on her than holding out hope that her sister’s still out there.” He managed to smile at this, a humorless smile. “He thinks I’m crazy for still believing. Lots of people do.”
Morgan felt words forming on her lips—words that would tell her father about what Kellen said about Chelsea still being alive; words that might even tell him everything about Kellen, and everything about herself.
But she bit back the words. Instead she asked, “Then why do you still believe it?”
“I can’t explain it,” he said quietly. “I just think that… if she were really gone, I’d know. And since I still feel like she’s out there somewhere, she’s gotta be.”
She offered a thin smile. “I think she’s out there, too.”