Chapter 29. What My Mother Said

June's POV

Bram walked away down the corridor without hurrying. His boots echoed on the stone. Then a door closed somewhere, and he was gone.

I didn't move.

I stood with my back pressed against the wall, and the cold of the stone went through my shirt and into my spine, and I couldn't feel my hands.

She begged.

My mother. Lenore Rowe, who sang in the evenings and laughed with her head thrown back and once chased a fox out of the henhouse with a broom in her nightgown. On her knees on the riverbank. Begging Bram Calloway.

I couldn't breathe.

June, Sorrel said. June, listen to me.

I couldn't listen. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cold floor with my knees pulled up, and I pressed my hands over my mouth so no sound would come out. Eleven years of practice. No sound. Never any sound.

Footsteps again. Faster this time. Lighter.

"June?"

Ronan.