Ace of Shades (The Shadow Game #1)(84)

“You mean Gabrielle Dondelair,” Enne guessed. “My birth mother.”

“Lourdes said she’d never tell you that,” Zula said sharply.

Enne’s breath hitched. There was no question now. What they’d learned about Gabrielle was absolutely true. “I saw a blood gazer. I did my research.”

“You saw a blood gazer?” Zula gaped. “You know your father’s blood name?”

“Do you know who he was?” Enne asked.

Zula slammed the desk drawer closed, making both Enne and Levi jolt. “I cannot speak his names.”

“But...I should know. I deserve to know.”

“I’d tell you if I could. His identity is protected, and he went to great lengths to see it so.” That meant his secret was sealed by a Protector, someone like Lourdes. Enne felt like she was grasping at smoke, trying to connect glimpses of the past together.

Enne cleared her throat. “But he is...dead, right?”

Zula took a shaky breath. “Yes. He’s gone.”

Enne knew this. Of course she did. But it still hurt to hear it, after hoping...over and over again.

“When you said that Gabrielle wasn’t alone in the Game,” Levi said, “what did you mean?”

“There was only one other person involved that night. Since these orbs are used for nothing beyond the Game, and since it cannot belong to Gabrielle, then that only leaves her daughter.” Zula met Enne’s eyes solemnly. “Gabrielle must have been playing for your life that night.”

Enne swallowed and stared at the orb. That was her own life inside it?

“The reason I bring up the Game,” Zula said gravely, “is because of why you’re here. Lourdes had been running from the Game for some time, but eight days ago, they found her, and she was invited to play.”

The shell Enne had carefully built around her heart shattered, and no number of words or rules would piece it back together now. Before Zula even confirmed Enne’s darkest fears, tears began to well in Enne’s eyes.

“Muck,” Levi whispered.

“Of all the stories from the Great Street War, Lourdes’s was the most heartbreaking of them all,” Zula said, shaking her head grimly. “Until the end, she did everything in her power to protect you. And now, here you are, a curse in your shadow, an omerta around your neck.”

The past tense struck Enne deep and low, like a bell toll that shook inside of her.

She would’ve known, she would’ve felt it if Lourdes had died.

She placed a hand over her mouth. Her chest heaved, though she hadn’t started to cry yet. She hadn’t even taken a breath.

“With the omerta, you can’t go home,” Zula continued. “You must keep your secret from Vianca at all costs. And, more than anything, stay away from the House of Shadows. Lourdes did not die so you would, too.”

“Enough,” Levi snapped. He reached for Enne’s hand, but Enne’s gaze was firmly rooted on the floor.

“The only fortune in any of this,” Zula continued, “is that you have no power yet. That’s better for you. And better for New Reynes.”

“Enough!” Levi hollered. He stood abruptly, grabbing Enne by the shoulder and hoisting her up, as well. Enne leaned into the support of his arm around her, holding her breath so as not to cry. She should say something, she knew. Levi shouldn’t fight this battle for her. But it felt pointless, knowing she’d already lost the war. “If you were really Lourdes’s friend, you could try showing an ounce of compassion.”

Zula’s expression hardened. “This story will end badly.”

The same words Lola had spoken the other day.

This story is already over, Enne thought. I’m trapped here, and I’m alone.

Levi pulled Enne toward the door, and she numbly followed. “I don’t expect we’ll be back,” he spat. He was right. Enne had no intention of ever seeing this awful woman again, even if she had been Lourdes’s friend.

“I’m the only one left who remembers,” Zula said solemnly. “If I need to find you, I will.”

“Don’t.” Levi slammed the door.

Outside, he shushed Enne even though she wasn’t crying and pressed her against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said. The words were gentle, but uselessly so. Enne was already broken. “I’m so sorry.”

Lourdes had died the day before Enne reached New Reynes. All this time she’d been searching for her face in the crowds, wandering memories of her in her dreams, and she’d been chasing a ghost. Had she left earlier... Had she asked questions earlier...

“It was always the two of us and no one else,” Enne whispered. “And now I’m alone.”

Without Lourdes, Enne was truly lost. Her mother was the only one who’d remember the girl Enne had been before, now that Enne was already starting to forget herself. Lourdes was her lighthouse, her guideline, and now Enne had no way of finding her way back—to Bellamy, to herself or to the life she’d once lived.

Her mother had probably died thinking that, at the very least, her daughter was safe at home. And that was the tragedy of it all.

“You’re not alone,” Levi murmured, squeezing her tighter. Enne looked up at him, studying her own heartbreak reflected in his eyes. Finally, she began to cry.