Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
A shrug. “I couldn’t leave him. I wanted a better life for him. So I stayed. And after he was better, I looked after someone else … and then it was a year and I had enough hours as an aide to actually get the start of a qualification, and here I am. Turns out I like taking care of people, like helping them.”
Soleil could see why; there was a patience in Tabor that meant he didn’t push at Ivan to speak, to share himself. This man understood wounds of the soul, and he understood that people would only speak when they wanted to speak.
And Ivan didn’t want to speak.
So when Tabor’s break ended, he rose and said, “Thank you for coming, for showing me that a piece of Norah remains. She was a gift, an artist who never got to make her art. But she made you. Please never forget that.” He swallowed. “I’d like to see you again. I can give you my call code.”
When Ivan nodded, Tabor gave it to them before turning to leave. “She used to make these tiny drawings at the bottom of city walls. They’re all over, hidden in corners and in the shadows. I look for them to this day, even in cities where I know she likely never went.”
As he began to walk away, his shoulders bowed inward, Ivan said, “I have no memories of her art.”
Tabor turned, and it was a little wobbly. “I don’t have any pictures, but I remember them. I could tell you if you want?” A quiet plea in the words.
“I would appreciate that.” Digging into his pocket, Ivan pulled out his mother’s ring. “Did she ever tell you anything about this?”
“Just that it was a family ring.” Tabor traced the swirling shape of the etching in the air. “An S for their family name.”
Now that Tabor had pointed it out, Soleil could see the resemblance. It was extremely stylized but present.
“Not a ring anyone would miss, she said,” Tabor continued. “Not one that would be remembered. She said she’d taken it to remind herself where she came from—so she would never be tempted to go back.”
Soleil could feel Ivan’s stillness as he debated whether to ask the next question, betray the extent of his lack of knowledge about his mother and her family. But then Tabor took the decision out of his hands.
“Scott,” he said with a sudden smile. “That was it. One time, when we were both sober, she said she was a Scott, and I asked her if she had a kilt, and she laughed so hard and said no, not that kind of Scot. A Scott with two Ts. But you must know that.”
“Thank you, Tabor.” Ivan’s voice was difficult to read. “For remembering my mother. I’ll call to arrange another meeting between us.”
Shoulders rising, Tabor gave a shaky smile before turning to continue on his way back to work.
“I think the tall, dark, and quiet thing might be a little genetic,” Soleil joked, though her throat was choked up at the idea of an artist forced to live a lie. It didn’t change the fact that Norah’s choices had so badly affected her child, but Soleil couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. If Soleil hadn’t been allowed to be a healer, it would’ve surely driven her mad.
Ivan gave her a speaking look, but his next words made it clear that his attention was on another matter. “Scott is a common enough surname.”
“True. But there’s a famous Psy Scott family, right? I remember—oh—what was her name?” She clicked her fingers. “Shoshanna Scott, the Councilor. I used to see her on the news comms sometimes. But her husband was a Scott, too, wasn’t he? Was the name his?”
Ivan dug through the PsyNet before shaking his head. “No, it’s hers. He was older, but she had the more prestigious family line, so he took her name when they decided to work as a political unit.”
“If I’m remembering right, she had the same coloring as you and your mother, too,” Soleil said with a frown. “Blue eyes, dark hair, fair skin. You see any harm in checking if there’s a connection?”
“No.” Ivan slid away the ring. “I’ll see if we can dig up her DNA profile.”
“Spies R Us activate!” She grinned, unrepentant, when he said, “Stop talking to bears,” in a stern tone. “They’re a bad influence.”
Still grinning, sparkles over her eyelids and dusted onto her cheeks, she pressed her lips to his jaw. He didn’t move, didn’t react … except to bend a little, so that she could reach him more easily.
And her heart, it melted all over again.
“Te amo, Ivan Mercant,” she told him. “Forever and always and back again.”
Killer blue eyes looking into her own, a love so vast that it encompassed her in flame-shot silver … and a smile so subtle that only she would ever know it. “Forever and always and back again, Soleil Bijoux Garcia.”