Emperor of Annihilation

FORTY NINE.

CLEMENTINE

Hearing my aunt was behind my attempted murder was to say the least, surprising. Hearing the news from Ezekiel was even more surprising. My legs gave out, knees hitting the floor with my sweaty palms over my chest, heart pounding.

"No, you're lying. Giselle wouldn't." The words came out but a part of me knew it was a lie. Autumn reached for me but I shook my head. "Take me to her."

The two exchanged glances. Ezekiel was the first to refuse me with a shake of his head. "She's in custody. Besides, it's better if you d–.."

"I swear to god, Ambrose, if you finish that sentence, I will slap you," I snapped, cutting him off.

Autumn stepped forward, brows furrowed as she took in my tired appearance. I hadn't been able to sleep since they told me, which was two days ago.

The fact that they kept it a secret said enough, but lying to my face was another matter entirely. As much as I wanted to be furious with them, I knew I couldn't be.

They care about me. That's why they kept it hidden for so long.

The people who never cared for me were the ones I called mom and dad. They didn't bother to call or text. Hell, they didn't even acknowledge my existence. Or the fact I was hospitalized.

"Do you really want to see her?" Autumn asked. I nodded. She grabbed my hand and led me to the door. "Coming, Ambrose?"

With a grunt, Ezekiel followed behind.

-

The minute I step out of the car, I'm bombarded by paparazzi with flashing lights and endless questions.

"Is it true that your aunt was behind it?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Did you ever suspect her?"
"Are you here to visit your so-called mother?"

One look from Ezekiel and they went quiet in a heartbeat. I bit down on my lips and followed Autumn inside the station where I'm led to the visitation room.

Sweat trickled down my forehead, mingling with the damp strands of my hair. My palms were clammy, my hands trembling uncontrollably. My heart raced, and I could feel a knot tightening in my stomach.

Fear surged through me, making my breaths shallow and rapid. My knees felt weak, threatening to buckle with every step.

This was it.

This would be the last time I would ever get to see my aunt.

No. Not aunt.

Mother.

This was completely insane. Unbelievable, actually. All this time, I believed she was on my side, only to discover she's been both the mastermind and the innocent protagonist.

It has me wondering. How long has she been planning this for? How long has she been hating me for?

And as I looked at her now, in those dead eyes of hers, no longer full of the light they usually held, it was clear everything had been fake. Her affection, her loyalty—everything.

How could I be so stupid?

She looked ill. The Giselle I knew—or at least thought I knew—would never be seen without a full face of makeup, a sleek bun, and a posh smile plastered on her red lips.

My eyes shifted to the officers a few feet behind her, and my shoulders relaxed. The visitation room was a cold, sterile space filled with small tables and uncomfortable plastic chairs. The walls were painted a dull gray, and the fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh, unforgiving glow. Inmates and visitors sat across from each other, separated by glass partitions in some areas, while others had no barriers at all.