Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Hey, Mom.”
“Why are you hiding in here?”
I wanted to say I wasn’t hiding, but that wasn’t quite the truth. Lillian was trying to guilt me into getting my face painted, and she was a master at getting me to do what she wanted. I was hoping that the piñata would distract her from her burning desire to see her daddy made up like her favorite cartoon teddy bear.
A low chuckle escaped me as I caught sight of Leo, looking very uncomfortable as he stood watching his and Hannah’s daughter clap and squeal as a little boy swung at the piñata with all his might. Leo had been trapped earlier by our little darlings and now sported face paint that made him look like a lion. A very grumpy, pissed off lion.
Mom must have followed my line of sight, because she laughed as well. “Poor Leo. He can’t just can’t say no to his girls.”
“I know the feeling.”
We watched everyone for a few more minutes before my mother said in a thin voice, “Ramón, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Distracted by the sight of Grace making a run for it, with my waddling wife following after her, I said, “What’s up, Mom?”
“I…let’s sit down.”
Looking over at her, I easily read the worry she was trying to hide. “Okay.”
As we sat down together on the navy leather sofa facing my desk, I stretched my arm over the back, waiting for her to continue.
Taking a deep breath, my mother laced her fingers together. She looked up at me with an expression so worried, so sorrowful, I immediately leaned forward and clasped her hands in mine. “Are you okay? Is it Dad? What’s going on?”
“No, no. We’re fine. Old, but fine. This is something…else. Something that I’ve been waiting years to tell you, until you were a father yourself, until you understood a parent’s endless love for their child.”
“Mom,” I said gently, letting go of her hands so I could grab some tissue out of the box on the coffee table then hand them to her. I kept some in every room while Joy was pregnant, because she tended to cry over any and everything. “You’re scaring me.”
Her thin lower lip trembled, but she said, “You never programmed Joy. I did.”
At first, her words didn’t make sense. “What are you talking about?”
“You never programmed her. That day at the spa all those years ago? The serum you used was fake.”
Stunned, I collapsed against the back of the couch, trying to make sense of what she said. “But…why?”
“I didn’t want you to harm Joy by double dosing her with it.”
I shook my head rapidly. “That doesn’t make any sense. You wanted me to program her.”
Fiddling with her ring, her hands shaking, she sighed. “It was a ruse so no one would figure out that I’d already programmed her on my own.”
“When?”
“The day you had the big fight with Joy, and she came to our house. I couldn’t let her leave without binding her to us. She’d heard too much, and I knew you weren’t ready, so I did what had to be done.”
A sudden rage filled me. I picked up the nearest object, a large brass statue of a horse, then hurled it at the wall. “How dare you! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I did it because I love you,” my mother yelled back. “And I love Joy. I never wanted to see her go through what Hannah did. I kept my instructions very simple. That she wouldn’t betray our family, that she would know that she was safe when she was with you, and that if she was ever threatened, she wouldn’t hesitate to save herself.”
I staggered to the wall then slumped down, ignoring my mother when she slowly crouched next to me. “All these years…you let me believe a lie all these years? Did you tell her to love me? Did you program her to love me? Tell me!”
“Of course not!” She stood and began to pace. “I told you, I kept it very simple. I never did anything that would have falsely bound her to you. That’s why I waited so long to tell you, so that you could see for yourself that Joy loves you for who you are, that I did the right thing.”
“Get out.”
“Ramón, listen to me. You’re a parent, you know you would do anything—anything at all—to keep your children safe, to make them happy. I was trying to protect you, trying to protect Joy. I love her like my own. Please forgive me.”
“GET. OUT.”
My mother began to cry, but I tuned her out, my mind swirling as I thought back to everything that had happened with Joy. The odd way she talked about killing Nova, how she didn’t sound like herself when she spoke about it.