Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(57)
“How are you getting home?” Clint asked.
Bryn paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “I hadn’t thought of that. Zavien and Garrett flew with me the first time.” Zavien was out of the picture. Garrett, well, he wouldn’t be flying anywhere. She pushed her food away. “Has there been any news on Garrett?”
“They allowed the injured students to leave school early for the holidays,” Clint said.
Allowed to leave? Probably more like shooed them out of sight. Sadness for Garrett and Rhianna slammed into her chest. “It’s all so wrong.”
They finished breakfast in silence.
Chapter Twenty-One
They’d taken their seats in Elemental Science when a commotion broke out in the hallway. Bryn turned to find her grandmother standing in the classroom doorway. Tears streaked the older woman’s face. “Bryn, come with me.”
Something was wrong, like end-of-the-world wrong, because nothing would make her grandmother openly show emotions except…no… She wouldn’t go there. It had to be something else.
She checked with Mr. Stanton. He gestured that she should go.
Pushing away from her desk, it took effort to move toward her grandmother. “What’s wrong?”
“Not here.” Her grandmother walked down the hall and into a classroom where two Reds stood flanking her grandfather. The frown lines etched in his face made him look like he was carved from stone.
Her grandmother sat at a student desk, like the weight of an ugly truth bore down on her, making it too hard to stand. Bryn backed up to a chair and sat. “My parents…”
“Bryn.” Her grandfather cleared his throat. “There’s no easy way to say this. A bomb, disguised as a Christmas present, was delivered to their apartment late last night. They were killed instantly.”
“No.” He had to be wrong. Her parents couldn’t be gone. She was going home tomorrow… They were going to decorate the tree, and string popcorn, and bake cookies, and play Battleship. Her dad would win like he always did, and she would roll her eyes at his victory dance while her mom laughed.
“I am sorry.” Her grandfather’s voice wavered.
No… No… No. Heat built inside her body. This couldn’t be happening. Her parents weren’t involved in dragon politics. They were innocent. Anger banked the flames in her gut. Her breathing came faster, and something crawled up the back of her throat and for a moment she thought she might vomit, and then sparks shot from her nostrils with every exhalation and all she could taste was smoke.
She wanted to scream…yell…demand answers…and she could do none of those things without spewing flames. Pushing to her feet, she stumbled over to an open window, took a deep breath, opened her mouth and roared her grief in blazing flames over and over again until her throat felt raw and exhaustion dropped her to the floor.
And it wasn’t enough. Pain raged inside her, but her spark was gone. Her flame exhausted. Everything. Gone.
On her knees, she stared out at the afternoon sky. It was still blue. Students walked around campus going about their lives.
“How does everything keep going?” Bryn asked.
“It just does.” Her grandmother stood by her side. “Even though you think the entire world should come to a screeching halt. It keeps turning, which is damn annoying.”
Choking back a laugh, Bryn took the hand her grandmother offered. Holding out one last hope, she addressed her grandfather. “Could there be… Is there any chance you’re wrong?”
“I wish there was,” he said, “but no.”
The injustice of it cut at her insides. “Why? My parents didn’t have anything to do with any of this.”
“I know.” Her grandfather straightened his shoulders. “Life isn’t fair. As I’m sure you’ve learned.”
“Can I see…is there…” Too horrific, the words wouldn’t come.
“The bomb leveled your parents’ apartment and half the city block around it. Believe me when I say there is nothing left to see but a crater in the ground. Whoever did this made sure there wasn’t any DNA evidence left for the police to find. Nothing to identify your parents as anything other than human.” He stood. “From now on, your home is with us.”
“Thank you.” She felt hollow and empty, like someone had scraped her guts out with an ice cream scoop.
The next hour was a blur. Her grandmother and one of the Red guards accompanied her back to Mr. Stanton’s class, where she explained the situation to Clint and Ivy. They barely had time to hug her before she was escorted to her room to pack her belongings.
Her grandmother rambled on about not worrying about missing homework assignments. Like she gave a crap about homework right now. Nothing mattered right now. Nothing except finding the people who’d done this and exacting revenge. She’d never believed herself capable of murder. And now she wouldn’t give a second thought to digging her talons into the murderers’ chests and ripping out their hearts. More than that, she would enjoy it.
Funny what you learn about yourself during times of stress.
Once she’d packed, the guard ushered her and her grandparents into an SUV driven by another guard. Other students, mostly Blues, were being shuffled into similar cars.