Lily Whitmore's Arc

Chapter 15 of 17

Lily stayed above the closed grave while the sun climbed. Selene sat back on her heels and studied her. Meridian looked toward the village road again. "Your mother," Meridian said. "She doesn't know. That's the weight." Lily felt the truth of it settle. Her mother had grabbed her arm at the tree line and told her to wait until morning. Lily had pulled away. Her mother had been standing in that not-knowing for six weeks. Ollie stepped out from behind a small headstone. "She's here," he said. "On the road. She's been walking." Selene stood. She drew a slim vial from her pocket. The liquid inside turned slow, pale as milk with silver in it. "One dose," Selene said. "It ties your voice to a living heart for five years. After that you're gone for good. But she'll hear you. She'll see you." Lily looked at the vial. Five years for one morning. She nodded. They walked out of the little cemetery and along the lane. The lanterns behind them dimmed as Lily left the hollow. Meridian pointed. An old woman sat on the low wall by an abandoned church, her sandals off, her feet raw. She was holding one foot in both hands. She did not look up when they came close. Lily knew her at once. Her mother's hair had gone whiter. Her mother's face had gone thinner. Selene uncorked the vial and held it to Lily's mouth. Lily drank. The cold in her chest turned into weight. Her hands felt like hands. She stepped onto the grass in front of the wall and her feet pressed the blades down. "Mama," Lily said. Rose Whitmore lifted her head. She looked at Lily for a long time without moving. Then she set her foot down on the stone. "You died," Rose said. "I know," Lily said. "In the forest. That night." Rose's mouth pulled tight. "Who." "Orin," Lily said. "He wrote me a note. He asked me to meet him. I should have waited till morning." Rose closed her eyes. She did not cry. "I walked six weeks," she said. "I can stop now." Lily sat beside her on the wall. She told her mother about the clearing, the fire made from the garden, the second grave in the wet ground, the people who dug her up. She told her about the headstone with her full name on it. Rose listened without interrupting. When Lily finished, Rose put her hand over Lily's hand. The hand held. "Five years," Selene said quietly from the lane. Rose nodded once. "That's enough time to bring him to a judge," she said. "And to sit with you." Behind them, in the little cemetery, the hollow above Lily's grave settled and went smooth. The silence had been broken. The grave had what it needed. Lily was still standing in the sun, tied now to her mother's blood, and the arc of what was left had changed shape.