And after everything she’d done for her, she deserved a friend. As did Morana. Everything be damned, she was going to make a friend.
Just because she’d lost everything known to her didn’t mean she couldn’t find something beautiful in the unknown.
With that thought, Morana cleared her throat. “I’ve discovered a lot of things about myself and the people around me recently, Amara. And nothing is what it appears to be.”
The other woman tilted her head for her to continue without interrupting once.
Morana smiled slightly at that.
“I know about Luna,” she told her, watching her eyes widen slightly. “I know about all the disappearances and about the victims. I know I was one of those babies too, the only one to have been found.”
Amara swallowed visibly, nodding. “Yes, you were. Not everyone knows it though. It was kept very quiet.”
Morana nodded back, not pushing. “I know those kidnappings have something to do with the Alliance, maybe even my own abduction. And I know he doesn’t hate me for being alive and here when his sister isn’t.”
Amara’s eyes filled with a sheen of tears as she bit her lip. But she didn’t utter a word, and for some reason, that loyalty made Morana respect her even more.
Morana continued. “I know my father doesn’t care one iota for me. Something bigger than me is going on, with the codes, with everything. I know it. I know my own father put the hit on me, bombed my car and almost killed me. But I don’t understand why. Why did he do that?”
Amara swallowed, her deep green eyes shining with sincerity. “I’m so sorry.”
Morana nodded. “I just killed two men, and when I had nobody to turn to, I decided to put my faith in you. I just want you to know that if you decide to reciprocate, I wouldn’t betray you.”
She paused, then stated plainly, her heart clenching. “I don’t have anyone to betray you to, Amara. The man who’s supposed to protect me wants me dead, and the man who’s supposed to kill me offers me protection. Convoluted as that is, I wouldn’t betray that act of kindness. I’ve not known a lot of it, and what little I have has come from you and Dante and him. I cannot betray that.”
She took a deep breath. “But the fact is simple – I don’t know who Tristan Caine was. Who he is. Help me understand him. Help me fight.”
Amara leaned her head back, staring up at the sky for a long moment. Morana gave her the time to mull things over, before the other woman spoke again, in an even softer tone of voice.
“I know why he hates you, Morana. Not because he confided in me. He doesn’t confide in anybody. He doesn’t let anyone even close to him. As lonely as all of us are, he’s the loneliest of us all.”
Morana’s heart clenched as the memory of a rainy night and glass windows filtered through her. She watched in silence as a tear streaked Amara’s cheek as she continued speaking.
“Dante knew the truth because he’s the heir. And in a moment of trust, to ease the helplessness of seeing his brother bleed but being unable to do anything about it, he told me. And I swore to him on my life that Tristan’s truth would never escape from my lips.”
Morana heard the unsaid ‘but’ hovering in the air between them. She bit her tongue, not willing to break the moment.
Another tear ran down Amara’s face.
“I see how he looks at you. Despite knowing about you all my life, I never thought he’d be as he is with you.”
“How is he with me?” the words escaped her softly before she could think about them.
Amara didn’t look down at her, kept staring at the clouds overhead, her lips curling slightly.
“Alive.”
Morana felt something pass through her heart. A current, a zap, a something.
“There’s no other word for it. That’s why I don’t believe he can truly ever hurt you. Because after tasting life, you don’t really ever let it go, do you?”
No. She hadn’t.
His insistent words from the morning came to her.
‘Did I hurt you?’
Was Amara right?
Morana stayed quiet, contemplating.
“I like you, Morana,” Amara finally looked down at her, her eyes determined but pained. “I would love nothing more than to have you as my friend. Which is also why I believe I should warn you. Knowing Tristan, knowing why he holds that hatred so close to himself, he will inevitably hurt you. Not because he wants to, but because he doesn’t know any other way to be. He’s lived for twenty years without feeling an ounce of affection for anyone but Dante and I. And only an ounce. We know it, and we accept it. Are you sure you’ll be able to?”
Morana blinked, her heart pounding. “What are you asking me, Amara?”
Amara took a deep breath. “I want you to know the reasons, Morana. I want you to know, woman to woman, friend to friend but also because you’re the only one I think can save Tristan from himself. To do that, you need to know the truth. To do that, you need to understand and accept that it will be anything but easy and Tristan himself will be the biggest roadblock in your path.”
Her hands shaking slightly, Morana inhaled deeply, pondering Amara’s words.
“The truth will change the way you understand him, Morana. It will change things for you, but it won’t change things for him. Do you still want to know?”
God, this was a mess.
To know or not to know, that was the question.
Ignorance is bliss, they said. Sorry, ancient philosopher, ignorance sucked.
But once she knew, she could never go back. They could never go back. How would it change things between them? How would it change things between their families? And if he decided to be rid of her because she’d found out the truth and he hadn’t wanted that, what then?
She could leave this all behind and go away.
No, she couldn’t. Not anymore. Not until she knew everything about herself that she hadn’t known existed.
The conflict inside her, the worry, the anger, the curiosity, all tangled together in a knot lodged right in her chest, making her breaths heavy and heart sore. Twisting sensations ran amok in her stomach, as Morana closed her eyes, took a deep breath in, and nodded.
“I want to know.”
With those words, she sealed her fate. She knew she wouldn’t be the same again.
With those words, she leaned back and opened her eyes, her hands trembling again as Amara, slowly, softly, began to talk.
Tristan, 8 years old.
Tenebrae City.
He was scared.
He wasn’t supposed to be here.
Tristan knew he was breaking a rule even as he pushed himself as high as his small toes would allow. His short body leaned against the pillar as he tried to look into the dining hall at the big house. It was a big space, with tall lamps at every corner of the room, lighting the area brightly, side tables scattered close to the walls. There was a long brown table in the center, with twenty chairs on each side and two at the heads of the table. The walls were the same stone the big house was made of, the name of which he couldn’t remember, and the curtains were deep blue in color. Tristan liked the color. He liked the room too.
He’d only been inside the house twice before, both times when the Boss had been holding some party. His mother had helped organize everything. Tristan was keen to see this dinner meeting, while his dad protected the Boss.