Chapter 16

The next morning, Jade woke up on Aiden’s couch, feeling the weight of reality sink in as she wiped drool from her cheek. Her head pounded with a relentless headache, a stark reminder that yesterday wasn’t just a nightmare—it had happened.

The comforting scent of coffee drifted from the kitchen, coaxing her out of the warmth of the covers. Today, she knew she had to confront her mother, to unearth the truth about her real parents and the history hidden from her. There was no turning back now. All she could do was face the challenge head-on.

“I guess we can add skipping school to your list of badass moves,” Aiden teased as he entered the living room. “Right up there with taking on four demons solo.” Jade tried to smile as she took the steaming mug he handed her.

“Excedrin?” she asked, her voice hoarse. Aiden nodded and returned with two green and white pills in his hand.

“Headache?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. She nodded again, too tired to respond in words. “How are you feeling otherwise?”

Jade took a sip of coffee, feeling the warmth spread through her, bringing a semblance of normalcy. “A little shocked, a little scared out of my mind, but also... a little like myself,” she admitted. The feeling was strange but grounding in its way. “So what happens now, Aiden?”

“I take you home, and you talk with your mom.”

“You mean my aunt.”

“No,” He corrected gently, “I mean your mom. Whether she gave birth to you or not doesn’t change the fact that she raised you. She’s still your mom.” His words hung in the air, and Jade nodded slightly, hoping she could eventually believe them, that the sense of betrayal would fade with time.

“I was thinking more about what happens next with all this supernatural stuff. I’ve accepted it, but what do I do now?”

“I’m supposed to train you and teach you everything you need to know,” He said a slight smile on his lips. “But we can worry about that later. Right now, how about we watch the new episode of Chopped? You can critique the food, and I’ll watch Alex Guarnaschelli .”

“Sometimes I worry about you,” Jade said, rolling her eyes but smiling as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Watching their favorite show together was a rare moment of normalcy, something she desperately needed.

For the next hour, Aiden’s running commentary on the host’s outfits made Jade laugh, though she tried to keep his attention on the food and the art of being a chef. They sipped coffee, savoring the brief respite from reality. But when Ted Allen solemnly intoned, “You've been chopped,” the words felt like a punch to Jade’s gut, reminding her that she too needed to pack up and face whatever awaited her at home. Her parents had probably been calling her nonstop, and she was grateful for the foresight to put her phone on silent.

After folding the sheets and putting the pull-out couch away, Jade helped Aiden restore the dusty brown cushions to their rightful place. Together, they carried the dirty dishes into his tiny, old-fashioned kitchen with its hideous blue cabinets, and finally, she grabbed her handbag, ready to follow him out the door.

“Aiden?” Jade broke the silence as they drove towards her house. He glanced at her, signaling that she had his full attention. “Thanks for everything. For letting me stay the night, stopping me when I couldn’t stop myself, and telling me the truth, even though it was hard.” He reached over and squeezed her hand, offering silent support.

“Do you think we could do something fun and normal tomorrow? It’ll be Saturday,” she asked as they pulled up in front of her house.

“I’ll rally the troops and plan a surprise,” Aiden promised with a wink. “Now, good luck in there. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” She said softly as she pushed the car door open and stepped out, bracing herself for whatever came next.

Aiden drove away, leaving Jade standing alone in front of her house. It had never seemed so daunting as it did at that moment. The car was in the driveway, her mother had skipped work. The real question gnawing at Jade’s mind was whether her mother was more angry or worried. Would she open the door to screaming and yelling, or to desperate hugs and kisses? If she knew her mother at all, she feared it would be the wrath of God waiting behind that door.

Hesitantly, Jade lifted her foot, letting it hover above the ground for a moment before forcing herself to take that first step toward the front door. She had resolved to rise to the occasion, but this conversation would be the hardest part.

Before she could even reach for her keys the front door flew open.

“Where have you been?” her mother shouted, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her inside. “Your father and I have been worried sick! We were up all night! I must have called you a hundred times, but did you call us back? No! Of course not. Why bother to calm the woman who has raised you since birth and thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere?”

Jade bit back the urge to shout back her mother’s words wash over her. It was almost comforting in a strange way, the familiarity of the reprimand. But beneath her mother’s anger, Jade’s thoughts churned with accusations she struggled to keep contained: How dare you yell at me? You lied to me—for my whole life, you lied. Who are you? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you protect me?

Taking a deep breath, Jade tried to rein in her emotions. She needed answers and knew she couldn’t afford to push her mother away. No matter what, they would need to be a family again—somehow.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Her mother’s voice was hoarse, the anger giving way to exhaustion as she finished her tirade.

“I almost died,” Jade said softly, unsure of how to broach the subject without sounding accusatory. She decided calm was the best approach. “Demons almost killed me.” Despite her efforts, a trace of bitterness slipped into her words. She could feel tears welling up, the urge to collapse into her mother’s arms almost overwhelming. But she held back, watching as her mother’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

Jade watched her mother stagger back as if the weight of the words had physically hit her, and sink onto the couch.

“Oh God, oh God,” her mother repeated, her voice trembling. Jade moved to sit near her, taking her mother’s shaking hand.

“It’s okay,” Jade said, her voice gentle but firm. “I saved myself...” She let the words hang in the air, watching as her mother stiffened, her eyes wide with horror.

“How much do you know?” her mother whispered.

“Not everything, but enough.” Jade’s voice was steady, though the pain beneath it was palpable. “I stayed with Aiden last night because I needed time to adjust before coming home. I wasn’t sure how it would feel to look at you, knowing that I was just a mistake, that I’m your charge and not your daughter. Oddly enough, it feels half-normal and only half-painful.”

She let go of her mother’s hand, retreating to the other end of the couch, where she curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. The distance between them now felt as vast as the lies that had been kept, and Jade wondered if they would ever truly bridge it.

Her mother sat very still, staring straight ahead with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Will you ever forgive me?” she whispered, her voice cracking as she bowed her head into her hands.

“I hope so,” Jade replied honestly, though she wasn’t sure. The pain of discovering she didn’t know who she truly was lingered like a wound that refused to heal. She loved her mother, but right now, she felt the person sitting before her was a stranger. “Were you ever going to tell me I was adopted? That my whole life has been a lie?”

“Oh, Jade.” Her mother reached out to take her hand, but Jade pulled away. The hurt was too fresh, the betrayal too deep. “It hasn’t all been a lie. I am your mother, in every way except genetically. Your father and I love you. Your sister loves you. We’ve always been a family.”

A tear slipped down Jade’s cheek, a small crack in the wall she had built around her heart. Her mother’s words were sincere but didn’t erase the years of deception. “If you can’t forgive me right now,” her mother continued, her voice trembling, “will you at least let me explain?”

“Yes.” The word slipped out before Jade could stop it, a quiet acceptance that this conversation was inevitable. This was the point of no return. Once her mother revealed the truth, there would be no going back. But part of her craved the truth, the answers, the history she had been denied. She needed to understand who she was, and where she came from. “You need to start with my real parents.”

“Can we talk outside?” her mother asked as she rose from the couch, her voice heavy with untold secrets. “These are stories even your father cannot hear.”

Jade nodded. She and her mother had always had their most important conversations outdoors. When Jade wanted to go to boarding school, they had walked through the park for hours. When she got her ears pierced, they had sat together on the swing set in the backyard. Something about the wind and the trees seemed to calm them, making even the biggest arguments feel small. For the first time, Jade wondered if this affinity for the outdoors was a Seraphina trait, perhaps something in the sun that soothed her people. But she pushed the thought aside, not wanting to dwell on musings that made her feel less human.

Jade grabbed a blanket around her shoulders and quickly made instant hot chocolate to bring outside. While her mother ran upstairs, Jade set the cups on the table and nestled into the chair, waiting. The cool air brushed her cheeks—a typical Georgia fall. The leaves of the dense forest behind her house rustled with each gust of wind, their sound reminiscent of waves crashing against the shore. Only the faint scent of salt in the air reminded her that she lived by the coast.

Her mother emerged a few minutes later, wearing a sweatshirt and clutching a box of tissues. She sat down with a heavy sigh. “Jade, I don’t even know where to begin. I haven’t spoken of the Seraphina in years. Your father doesn’t even know about my past. I never wanted us to be a part of that world.”

“Start with my father, your brother. What was he like? You were Vindicators, right?” Jade asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. It seemed like the logical place to begin—the story of her father before he even met her real mother. She longed for a picture, some token to remember them both by.

“Your father was amazing,” her mother began, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “He was the protective older brother, the ideal fighter, the perfect son—the kind of person you could always count on. He wanted to protect the entire world, to fight epic battles, and he started by helping me.” Jade noticed her mother’s gaze drifting beyond the backyard, lost in the memories. “When we were younger, he made sure kids never bullied me for being small and weak. You see, Jade, I ran away from that world because I had no place in it as a child, I could never properly channel the sun, and even when my power matured at sixteen, I still couldn’t hurt a fly. For a Vindicator, that’s the ultimate insult. Many of our people turned against me, but never your father. He accepted me when no one else would.”

Jade reached for a tissue, realizing she and her mother had been misfits in worlds that didn’t accept them. Her mother’s words painted a picture of her father as fearless, someone Jade wished she had inherited more from. “When he was eighteen, he went on his first hunt and made his first kill. He came back boasting about how exhilarating it was, how much fun he’d had. He said he was the only newbie who hadn’t needed help from the elders. I could tell just by looking at him that he had found his place and would become one of our best fighters. Our society is stuck in the past in many ways—the men go out to hunt demons and protect humanity, while the women stay home to guard the children. Everyone in town knew your father would be the best of us. Each time he returned from a trip with pride, others told tales of his heroics. To our people, the stronger the fighter, the more divine, and your father was seen as a heavenly angel.”

“But that all changed, didn’t it?” Jade asked softly, knowing this story couldn’t have a happy ending.

“Yes, it all changed,” her mother confirmed, her voice tinged with sorrow. “Most youths mature at sixteen and start going on guided missions, but at twenty, we’re allowed to hunt alone. At first, your father was the same—full of joy when he returned. But one day, just a few weeks before his twenty-first birthday, he came back different. Solemn. Everyone assumed he had failed to catch his target for the first time. It’s not unusual for a young hunter. They let him be. But I knew something else was wrong.”

“Did you talk to him about it?” Jade asked, trying to imagine the pressure he must have felt to be perfect and never make a mistake. She glanced at her mother’s red curls, blown by the breeze, and wondered if her mother had ever seen them as a curse.

“I tried,” her mother replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll never forget what he told me. I was in the kitchen washing dishes when I saw him sitting on the back steps. I went out to comfort him, telling him everyone makes mistakes. But my words felt empty. He looked up at the stars, his eyes filled with confusion. Then he turned to me and asked, ‘Dawn, have you ever wondered if we were wrong?’ For a moment, I didn’t understand. But then I realized he meant us—the Vindicators. Were we wrong to kill? Did demons have souls? ‘Of course not,’ I told him, full of confidence. We were never allowed to question those beliefs, passed down through our ancestors for thousands of years. But I saw him shut himself off when I answered. He stood up and went inside to finish the dishes, leaving me outside to ponder why he would ever ask such a question.”

“What would you say now?” Jade asked, noticing the parallels between their conversation and the one her mother had just recounted. They were sitting on the porch, but instead of staring at the stars, they were bathed in sunlight.

“I’ve never seen a demon who didn’t appear evil to the core,” her mother said after a long pause. “But I suppose there are always exceptions to the rules.” Jade could sense a deep regret in her mother’s voice, as if she wished she had offered that response to her brother back then, perhaps to give him some comfort, some hope.