She moves closer to me on the bed, and I wrap my arm around her again when she settles herself easily against me. My fingers brush through her thick hair, pulling it slightly back from her face when she leans onto my shoulder.

“It isn’t your fault.” Her words fall against something fragile as glass and dense as brick.

I know it isn’t my fault. What happened three years ago, everything that happened that changed the world as we knew it… None of it was on me, I couldn’t have prevented it… But that doesn’t change the fact that I wish more than anything else that I could get back the time lost.

“You have to go and get mom,” she says, her hands fitting into mine as she looks at me. I glance down at them, thumbs smoothing over her knuckles, then look up again when she continues. “She was never the same. And I think… that after I left, when I asked Frey to make me old enough…”

So that’s how it happened… It was an intentional plea…

“I think she got worse, all alone for so long. She just saw Vai again—” I can’t help but chuckle at that, “—and Remi and Ronin, and I think that helped. But she really, really needs to see you.”

“Your grandmother was never my biggest fan,” I chuckle with a short bounce of my brows, “but I’m glad she got to see her mom again.” Family has always been so important to Ashe, and while the only family I’ve truly cared about is the one I forged with my own hands, I could never take away from the value that it holds for Ashe.

Looking around the dark room, my starry illusion having gone at some point when I stopped paying attention to it, I picture it all brand new. The materials of the half-built bed sitting in front of me on the floor, Ashe grinning at me from the top of a ladder with a paintbrush in hand, and the girl in front of me cackling while covered in sticky stains that match Ashe’s brush. There was a time that I actually believed nothing could ever touch us again.

But even now, even coming home to my daughter, it really hits me… “You and Mom…” I start, my brows furrowing slightly. “You two aren’t together anymore.” It’s a statement, though the question underneath goes unsaid; what happened?

“I really liked her,” she says, and I smile slightly, already realizing before she says, “I got to meet her too.”

I’m glad for her. Whatever might have transpired between myself and Vervain, I’m glad she got to meet her grandmother, glad Vai got to meet her granddaughter. It’s a beautiful world where death doesn’t necessarily mean an end.

She averts her eyes when I ask about Ashe, though, and it confirms it without her even needing to answer further. But I still need the clarity, the answer. I need to know.

“I couldn’t do it anymore,” comes her quiet explanation. “The way we kept hiding. Running from everyone who could love us, running because we were afraid and…” Although she cuts herself off, I keep my gaze on her, brows slowly falling with her words.

It doesn’t shock me, but I can’t say it doesn’t hurt.

Ashe and I knew from the start that we wouldn’t be able to keep her sequestered away from the world forever, that she would eventually need to branch out on her own…but we had also hoped that time was still years off. I suppose it was, at least for them.

“She wasn’t ready, but I was,” she continues. “I am. She stayed close, but I wanted to try and make it here, even if she didn’t want to. Then I figured out how lonely it was without her. And how horrible I felt. I almost went back but… then I met people. Family. Friends, Dad, real friends. Not just people in passing anymore. I’m even a part of a guild.”

“What?” I bite, unintentionally sharper than I intend. It’s not the Guild, but still… Our entire purpose in bringing her away was to keep her safe, but perhaps, we unintentionally made her only run faster in the opposite direction…

“And when she did show up, finally… I’ve got a life. And I’m afraid of being stifled again.” She’s sinking into herself, pulling into the child I know her as. “But I left her all alone. For months.”

I tuck my hand under her chin, gently forcing her to look at me. “Your mother’s fears are not your responsibility,” I tell her, my voice soft but firm, unwavering.

We never made her responsible for managing our emotions—as erratic as we both knew them to be—when she was a child, and I’m not about to let her slip into that role now.

“Theea, you’re an adult.” My thumb brushes her jaw before I drop my hand to hers. “No one is going to force you into anything you don’t want. We had to when you were a child. This world was unfamiliar, we didn’t truly know who could be trusted, and neither of us was willing to risk you.” It’s all shit she’s heard before.

I pull her closer again to kiss her head, my voice hushed when I say, “But you have every right to figure out who you are outside of our family.” I lean back with a crooked smirk. “As long as you always make your way back. I tracked you down once, and I can do it again.” A piece of her hair twists around my finger for a gently playful tug before falling loose again.

“Will you and Mom come back here tonight?” She asks, and I quirk a brow. “She was going to paint with me tomorrow. Maybe—” I follow her line of sight to the door, but don’t interrupt, waiting for her to finish her thought. “Maybe stay the night? Your old room’s ready. I didn’t let anyone touch your things.”

Probably for the best. I’d have to search my memories for what exactly we left here—having so often left bits of ourselves in each place we settled and departed from—but there’s always a possibility of it being dangerous.

“I could tell you everything I’ve done,” Theea continues. “The people I’ve met. I even reconnected with Damien. Remember him?”

My eyes narrow slightly at that. Yes, I remember him. I don’t have any bad memories of the boy—he always seemed mostly good-natured and responsible, making sure she was never directly in harm’s way when she would seek him out, but I never allowed myself to let my guard down with them… He was an older boy, basically an adult, when she was a young, naive child. Letting my guard down would’ve been irresponsible, regardless of how harmless he seemed. I wonder exactly what she means by ‘reconnected’ with him.

“And it’s the Monster Hunters I joined—the one Ronin founded.”

I huff slightly. “Just because your uncle founded it doesn’t mean it lessens my concern about you being put in danger, Star,” I tell her. “I won’t try to talk you out of it, but I’m not going to be thrilled about this career choice until you return home safely.”

I unclasp the steel bracelet from my wrist and slip it around hers. “Might be a little heavy for you right now, but it could save your life in a pinch if you ever drop your blade.” She’s seen me use it numerous times, knows how it works.

“I’ll go find your mother and we’ll come back here for the night. Maybe two if you don’t get too sick of us.” I wink at her. It’s her space, her life, and we’re all going to have to find a new balance.