Let the Sky Fall (Sky Fall #1)(45)

She peeks her head through the doorway. “I thought I heard you moving around. I brought you some breakfast. The protein will help your muscles.”

She holds out a plate filled with the biggest torpedo she’s ever made. The growl my stomach makes echoes off the walls.

She sits on the edge of my bed, watching me eat. I do my best to ignore her, concentrating on the spicy, cheesy goodness, but I know she’s hanging out for a reason.

“So, about yesterday,” she finally says.

Aaaaaaaaaand, there it is.

I shoot her my best I really don’t want to talk about this look. She doesn’t take the hint.

“You ready to tell me the truth?” she asks.

I keep my eyes glued to my plate. Playing dumb doesn’t usually work, but maybe this time I’ll get lucky. “The truth?”

“What really happened with you and Audra? I know what shin splints look like, honey—and those weren’t it. You couldn’t even support your own weight. And I’ve never seen you so pale.”

I try to shrug it off, but she shakes her head.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of Audra. But now I want to know. Why couldn’t you walk? And don’t tell me it was some sort of training injury.”

“It was.”

“You’re really going to lie to me?”

“I’m not lying.” It did happen during training. Not the kind of training she’s thinking of, but still—training.

“You’re not telling me everything, either—which is exactly the same.”

I really hate when she makes a good point.

I concentrate on tearing remains of my torpedo into shreds.

“Are you in some sort of fight club?” she whispers.

I snort. “Seriously, that’s your theory?”

My mom flushes. “I don’t know. You looked pretty beat up yesterday—and Audra looked like a fairly tough girl, dressed all in black with her military-style boots. I just thought . . .”

“I’m not in a fight club. And neither is Audra.”

She nods, relieved, and I hope we’re done.

No such luck.

“Then what is it?”

I sigh.

I hate lying to my mom. So I toss her a bread crumb and hope it’ll be enough. “Audra’s kind of training me for something.”

“Mind telling me what for?”

I can’t tell her—but I won’t lie, either.

I hold her gaze, knowing I need to look confident to pull this off. “How about I tell you once I know how it goes?”

She considers my offer. “Is it illegal?”

“No.” I’m pretty sure there aren’t any specific laws against battling sylph warriors.

“Is it dangerous?”

“It’s not supposed to be.” Not totally a lie. Audra keeps telling me we’ll be fine. And if I ignore the worry in her eyes when she says it, I might believe her.

“You’re making this really hard, Vane.”

“I know.” I take her hand, something I used to do all the time as a kid. Makes me wish I could go back to being ten, knowing my mom can fix whatever problem I’m having.

But she can’t fix this.

“I promise, I’ll tell you more when I can. For now, just know that I’m not involved with anything featured on one of those special news reports you love to watch.” She’s softening—I can tell. So I go for the gold. “Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?”

“No,” she admits after a beat.

“Then can you please just believe me when I say I’m okay—and that if I need your help, I’ll come to you?”

I can tell by the frown lines around her mouth that she doesn’t want to agree. So I play my final card.

“I’m seventeen, Mom. You have to start letting me handle things on my own.”

She shakes her head, and I expect her to argue. But instead she whispers, “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

She stands and takes my plate. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” I stretch my legs under the covers. They throb like I’ve just run ten thousand miles at top speed—but they’re working. “Just tired.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have anywhere to be.”

My dad had tried to force me to get a summer job, but my mom talked him out of it. She knows how sick I get in the heat. But I know she’s really telling me she doesn’t want me going anywhere. She doesn’t trust me.

I hate that.

I can’t do anything about it, though, except force a smile and reach for the remote. “Yep. I’ll be resting up all day.”

Tonight will be another story—but she doesn’t need to know that. I just have to keep the act up for seven more days. Then everything will go back to normal.

Or . . . I’ll be a prisoner of an evil warlord. Or prisoner of a sylph army. Or dead.

Not a lot of good options in that mix. And not a lot I can do about it. Except train as hard as possible, and trust Audra.

Assuming I can trust Audra.

When my mom leaves, I close my eyes and try to force myself to sleep, hoping to trigger more flashbacks. I want my memories. Need them. And now that I know they’re within my reach, I’ll do whatever it takes to get them back.