Chapter 77
Aeson’s POV
d
I open my eyes slowly. Everything is white–the walls, the ceiling, the sheets.
It’s the hospital, again?
My head feels fuzzy, my throat raw like I’ve been screaming. What happened? The restaurant… the cake… Imema said it
was okay…
I turn my head and see her.
Mom.
She’s asleep in the chair beside my bed, her head tilted at
an uncomfortable angle. Dark circles shadow her eyes. Her
clothes are wrinkled, the same ones from yesterday. She’s
been here all night.
A strange feeling fills my chest. Warm and tight, just a little bit scary. Like butterflies in my stomach, and I’m afraid they might fly away.
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She used to sit like this all the time when I was sick. Every
fever, every stomach ache, every time I couldn’t breathe-
she was there. I never thought about it much. That’s just what
moms do. It’s her job to take care of me.
But then she stopped coming home. Stopped making my favorite foods. Stopped tucking me in at night. She chose that
boy over me. She said I was just the nanny’s kid.
And now she’s here again.
I don’t know how to feel. Happy? Angry? Confused?
She stirs, like she feels me watching. Her eyes open, and
when she sees me awake, something floods her face–relief,
joy, love. All the things I haven’t seen in weeks.
“You’re awake.” Her voice is rough, tired, but so soft.
“Yeah.” My throat hurts. “Water.”
She’s up in an instant, pouring from the pitcher, helping me
drink. The water feels good. Cold. Safe.
I look around the room. Just us.
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“Mom? Where’s Dad? And Ms. Volkov?”
Her smile fades. I watch it happen–the warmth draining away, replaced by something careful. Guarded.
“Aeson.” She sits on the edge of my bed. “Why did you eat
something you’re allergic to? Where was your emergency spray?”
I look away. I don’t want to see her face right now. “I didn’t
know there were nuts in the cake.”
“Even if you didn’t know about nuts, you know you’re lactose
intolerant. You know you can’t have cake.”
“It was one bite.” My voice comes out sharper than I meant. “Just a tiny bite.”
“One bite almost killed you.”
The warmth I felt when I first saw her curdles into something hot and angry. She’s doing it again–lecturing me, controlling
me, treating me like a baby.
“You and that boy can eat whatever you want! Why can’t I?”
The words tumble out before I can stop them. “It’s because 3/8
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< Chapter 77
you’re always saying no to everything that I want it more! If you’d just let me have things like a normal mom, I wouldn’t
be so curious!”
Her brow furrows. “Aeson, I’m trying to keep you healthy-”
“No you’re not!” I’m almost shouting now. “You just want to control me! You say it’s for my good, but you don’t care what I actually want! You never listen to me! You don’t respect me!”
She stares at me, shocked into silence.
I feel powerful. This is what Ms. Volkov talks about–standing up for myself, demanding respect, not letting anyone push
me around.
“Who taught you to say these things?” Mom’s voice is quiet.
“Or is this really how you feel?”
I hesitate. Ms. Volkov said I should speak my truth. She said
everyone deserves freedom and respect. But she didn’t say what to do when Mom asks questions like this.
I lift my chin. “It’s how I feel.”
Something in Mom’s eyes dies. I see it happen–the worry,
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the guilt, the love, all of it just… going out. Like a candle
snuffed.
“Then tell me, Aeson.” Her voice is flat now. Empty. “What do
you want?”
Easy. I’ve got this.
“I want you to support me no matter what. No rules, no forcing me to do things. Give me freedom and respect. Don’t treat me like a little kid. Don’t guilt me just because you’re my
mom. You can give advice, but you can’t decide for me.” I’m
on a roll now, words spilling out. “And—”
I stop.
She’s looking at me with eyes like winter. No warmth. No love.
Nothing.
I swallow. “That’s… that’s all. For now.”
She nods slowly. “I can do all that.”
Wait. What?
My eyes go wide. She agreed? Just like that? Ms. Volkov was 5/8
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< Chapter 77
right–I just had to stand up to her!
Mom continues, her voice calm and terrible. “You can have
all the freedom and respect you want, Aeson. As long as
you’re responsible for your own choices.”
I nod eagerly.
“That means if you fight with Robin at school, don’t call me to
fix it.”
I blink.
“If you get sick and end up in the hospital, don’t expect me to
stay with you.”
My stomach clenches.
“Want to eat something? Make it yourself. Pay for everything
yourself. Take care of yourself completely.”
I stare at her, my mouth hanging open. This isn’t what Ms.
Volkov said would happen. She said Mom would realize she
was wrong and start listening. She said-
“If you can do all that, I won’t bother you. I’ll respect every
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choice you make.”
I can’t speak. I don’t know what to say. Ms. Volkov didn’t
teach me this part.
A knock saves me.
The door opens, and there she is–Ms. Volkov, graceful and
beautiful, carrying a thermos. Her face lights up when she
sees me.
“Aeson! You’re awake! I brought you soup. How are you feeling?”
“Ms. Volkov!” Relief floods through me. She’ll know what to
I must look upset because her expression shifts to concern.
“Aeson, what’s wrong? Has someone been bothering you?”
Mom’s voice cuts in, sharp as glass. “That’s an interesting
question, Ms. Volkov. There’s no one else in this room. Who
could possibly be bothering him besides me?”
Ms. Volkov flushes. “Ms. Perseus, that’s not what I meant–I’m
just worried about Aeson-”
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“We both know what you meant.” Mom’s voice is ice. “Save
the performance. It’s disgusting.”
I can’t let her talk to Ms. Volkov like that. “Mom! How can you
say that?”
Mom looks at me, those empty eyes boring into mine. “Am I
wrong?”
I open my mouth, then close it. Nothing comes out.
Because the thing part is… I don’t know anymore. I don’t know who’s right or wrong. I don’t know what I want, I don’t know anything except that my mom is looking at me like a stranger, and Ms. Volkov is here with soup, and I’m so
confused it makes my head hurt.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.

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