I stepped into the Yard, exhaling a stale breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, feeling the cool of the evening settle around me. I'd done what I could to get through to Mom and though she'd left me high and dry, I felt better for having at least tried.
Now I could act and not have to second-guess myself. Because the threat was real, even in Mom's eyes. Abandoning Trill and Owen to the Brotherhood was totally out of the question. And as I reached for the veil, my demon stretching her power to tear open the outer membrane, I had an epiphany.
How many times had I acted on my own in times of trouble, times when Mom was aware of my actions, but unable to do anything herself? And in at least a few of those instances, I knew my actions were exactly what she needed from me. Was that my mother's modus operandi? Turning me into her hands when she herself was trapped without a way to resolve the issue because of her position?