The Last Apothecary

Epilogue

"I'm heading out." My voice was monotone as I slid my backpack over my shoulder, holding nothing but a water bottle, a piece of paper, and some flowers. It was crazy to think that just over a week ago, it'd been stuffed to the brim with potions, but there was no use for that anymore.

"Crow, wait," my mom called out with a wince, pushing herself off the couch. I flinched as her hand reached for me, and she quickly withdrew it.

I took a deep breath before facing her, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't have long before they close for the day. What do you need?"

Her green eyes looked away, and as her face twisted up with worry, I noticed for the first time that she was starting to look... older, stress lines running along her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," I filled in quickly. It wasn't like it was the first time I was saying it.

"No." Warm arms reached around me from behind. "I'm sorry I pushed you to be an Apothecary. I'm sorry you felt pressured to take classes you didn't need to, to make us happy. I'm sorry you felt the need to impress your father and I all the time..." The words held in the air for a moment. "I'm sorry I never let you know how proud we always were."

My chest shuddered, and I tried not to tremble as she held me. "That's not why I did it, you know?" I asked softly. "I mean, maybe that was part of it– somewhere– but deep down, I knew if I didn't stop it, no one else would. Yeah, I'm just one person, and that's not gonna change anything, but if I hadn't done something, no one else would have, and then... who knows how much worse things could have been?"

I took another deep breath. "Everybody should've helped, but in order to do that, somebody had to step up first."

I just wish that person had done a better job. I glanced at the scars along my hands, the bandages still winding up my arms despite the hospitals doing the best they could. Already, the single water bottle in my backpack felt heavy in my twitching fingers, the scars burning under its weight. "Anyways, I have to go."

"Wait. I have something for you. It's from your father and I." She released me to pull a single, thick envelope from her skirt. It was stuffed with... something.

I grabbed it from her hands, squinting at it in confusion. "What is this?"

"It was so you could go to college. You're not very good at hiding things, you know?" She gave me a weak smile. "You want to be an archeologist, right? It's in all the notebooks you throw on your desk, not to mention the tabs you leave up on your computer."

"What?" It came out as a shout as I finally tore open the envelope, looking at the pile of cash inside. "-how?"

"We've been saving for years. I don't know if you'll need it, since I can't think of any college that wouldn't want the last Apothecary as their student after everything you've done, but if it will help, take it. We were going to give it to you closer to when you graduated but..."

"Oh gods. Mom, I—" I cut myself off, pulling her in a hug of my own this time. "Thank you." It came out as a whisper.

"You know, you've matured a lot."

"What?" My head shot up.

She laughed. "Didn't I have to tug you out of the mall by the ear only three months ago just to keep you from fighting an old lady?" She pulled herself out of the hug, sitting back down on the couch to smile at me. It was a strange smile: soft, sad, empathizing, but there was something behind all that. Admiration.

"You've become so level-headed and responsible it's almost scary. I used to worry before about giving you the money, but... you've more than proven yourself. I just wish you'd felt comfortable enough to talk to me about things first. A lot of things."