thunderstruck | book #2 | discontinued

I

Remy was not quite sure what to do upon her arrival home. So much had happened in Astracia that she had never thought about what she would do when she finally saw her family again. Sometimes, she had even forgotten they existed altogether, and then she would feel guilty and worry at the thought of them searching for her at home, never able to know the truth of where she had gone.

She had walked home in a daze, feeling hollow after her departure with Maksim. She had tried with all her might to ignore the grey houses and crumbling bricks, already longing to return to the pink sky and orange sunlight she had been forced to leave behind. There was no sunlight in Calderdale, just colourless clouds that seemed to drain all the life from the world, and from Remy.

She had forgotten, too, to look before crossing roads. Traffic hadn't existed in the warlock realm, and in just a matter of days she had grown used to walking around the cobbled roads without a care. Now, she found herself doing the same, only the passing cars would beep each time she walked out in front of them. They did not make her want to speed up. She barely noticed them at all, too busy concentrating on ways to control her breathing and lift the heaviness from her chest; too busy trying not to think of him and how he had told her everything she had ever wanted to hear right before ripping it away before she could truly enjoy it.

She did not have to think about which turns to take or back alleys to cut through. The journey was an automatic one, as though her feet would always remember their way even if she did not. Perhaps, she thought unwillingly, Calderdale was always going to be where she belonged—a terrifying idea that caused a shiver to flutter through her. Because of this, it took not nearly long enough to find the block of old apartment buildings where she lived, and before she knew it, she was climbing the stairs and staring at the familiar house number engraved into faded white wood, knowing the sight of it meant the part of her life where magic existed was truly closing. 23B. There was a time when the combination of numbers and letters had brought her comfort, but now she did not think there was anything in this world that could—that was, until the door opened and she saw her mother on the other side of it.

Bianca looked older now, just as she had in the image that Maksim had shown her one night when she was feeling particularly homesick. She gulped at the thought of Maksim, trying to wipe him from her memory and focus on what was happening in front of her. Her mother was clutching her handbag, dressed in her work uniform with wisps of her ashy hair already falling out of its ponytail. She had paled, her grey eyes wide and her mouth ajar as though the life had been taken from her altogether. There were lines on her face that Remy was sure had not been there before.

"Mum," Remy whispered in a half-sob, and then she was in her mother's arms, being held more tightly than she had ever remembered being before. She inhaled, the smell of detergent mixed with perfume stinging her nose. It reminded her of being a child again, for that must have been the last time she had been embraced like this. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Her mother was the first to pull away, and she clutched Remy's face in her hands, her darting eyes filled with tears as she looked her daughter up and down. "It's really you. You're really here."

"I'm here." Remy tried to smile but couldn't. Just as she was about to apologise again, she was interrupted by someone else saying her name.

"Rem?"

Remy recognised the voice immediately. It had come from behind her mother's frame. She peered around Bianca and was met with Mia, her younger sister, standing timidly by the couch, with the television blaring some meaningless reality show in the background, just as it always had before. Nothing had changed, she realised. Not for them.

"Is that really you?"

Remy nodded and was immediately enveloped in another hug from her sister. Her youngest brother, Vincent, was next, clinging onto her lower half from behind, though she had not seen him standing in the living room before. She stepped away, picking the boy up and searching for the only member of her family who was missing: Leo, her eldest brother. It did not take long to find him.