Chapter Three

I LEFT MY NEW BEDROOM in search of this mysterious place I needed to see alone. The door I had been tasked with finding looked like all the others—an iridescent pearl color with a seaweed-style handle. I stared at it, trying to prepare myself for what I might be stumbling into.

A special place meant for me.

Alone.

Is it a lingerie closet?

I better not be expected to wear the same lingerie as my mom.

Completely curious now, I took a deep breath and opened the door. A sharp pain immediately pierced my gut, and my next inhale got caught in my lungs. The door swung open the rest of the way, revealing a long-forgotten nursery. A silver crib tucked against the wall with an ocean-themed mobile hanging above it. A shelf with books covered in so much dust that no one could read the titles without wiping the grime away. A toy bin, full of untouched treasures. A single padded chair, sat empty for decades.

A strangled cry tried to break the seam of my lips, but I forced it back as I moved into the room. I tried to look at everything all at once, too hungry to see all that I'd never had a chance to before. That's when I noticed a large tome sitting on the chair.

Slowly, I approached the seat, and as I lifted the book, I sank onto the soft cushion. I didn't notice the dust that clouded the air when I sat down, because I was too focused on the silver leatherbound book in my hands.

The spine cracked as I opened it, and tears instantly sprang to my eyes. There on the old, weathered page were pictures, and even though I'd never seen the subjects before, I knew exactly who they were.

"Mom," I whispered, running my finger gently over the photos. "Dad."

Three photos took up the page. The first was a gorgeous, very pregnant woman. She smiled vibrantly at the camera, and I realized then that my deep blue eyes came from her. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and I noticed the strands were mostly blue, save for her nearly-white roots. The blue in her hair only served to make her eyes stand out more, and they left me breathless.

The next photo was similar, but this time, her slender fingers were placed lovingly over the bump of her belly. Her attention was no longer focused on the camera, but instead, she stared down at her belly with nothing but love painted over her face. My heart cracked right down the middle, and I had to fight past tears to see the third photo.

My dad was in this one, or rather, his side profile was. Even still, I could make out his dark hair and sea green eyes. He was too busy kissing my mother's stomach to pay any mind to the camera, and my mom's head was thrown back, caught forever laughing.

My hands began to shake, and tears dripped endlessly down my cheeks. I choked on another cry as I turned the page, and my soul broke all over again.

Taking up the entire expanse of the page was one photo. My parents stood side by side in a stunning dress and suit, ones truly befitting of a Queen and King. Neither paid any mind to the camera. Instead, their eyes were glued to the newborn—to me —in Alesta's arms. She held me close, smiling down at me with unconditional, motherly love, and my father mirrored her grin as he stroked my cheek with one hand and held Alesta close with the other.

I fought hard in my memory, aching to remember them. To remember this moment when they looked at me with such profound tenderness. To remember how they touched me with gentle, safe hands. I just wanted to remember, damn it! But how could I? How could I remember when I'd just been a baby?

And now I'd never get to see or feel those things again.

"At least I have pictures," I whispered to myself, trying to find something other than grief in all of this.

Only when I turned the page, I was met with nothing.

It was blank.

"What?" I cried, my stomach sinking.

I flipped to the next page and the next, but they were all empty. Heart pounding, I held the book up and fanned the pages for any more photos tucked within the binding, but what fell out was not a photo. A folded page fell into my lap. I slowly set the photo album aside to unfold the paper.

And all else ceased to exist when I saw such elegant handwriting on the parchment.

My dearest Dewdrop,

If you are finding this, it means all did not go according to plan, and therefore, I am no longer with you. Forgive me, my sweet. It was not for lack of trying. Of this I promise. You are mine and Khal's entire world. All we do, we do for you. Not a day goes by when our hearts don't beat for you.

I love you, Dewdrop. A thousand days. A thousand years. A thousand lifetimes. I love you. You are my reason for breathing, my reason for existing, and there is not a treasure in the world that I could love more. Know this, my dear. Forever, your father and I will be loving you, even if we are not there to hold you. Where you go, we shall be. Forever and on, my dearest.

Until the water brings us back together. I love you.

Mommy

I reread the lines over and over, no longer able to keep my sobs from echoing off the walls. An ache that seeped deep into my bones held me captive, strangling the air from my body as I hiccupped and let out an agonized wail. I clutched the letter tightly to my chest, too lost in my own grief to notice Rune entering the room.

One minute, I was crying alone, and the next, he was lifting me up to take my place in the chair. He settled me in his lap, threading his fingers into my hair and pulling my face into the crook of his neck. He held me tightly to him as I wept harder, screaming out for souls no longer able to hear me. He rocked me silently, brushing through my hair and rubbing my back and arms. He made no move to speak or to try to tell me everything was alright, because he probably knew that it would've been a lie. Instead, he held me and tried to soothe my pain.

The same thing my mother probably would've done for me in this space.

But that was just a fantasy of a memory.

All that remained of that past were four pictures, one letter, and my shattered heart.