Sapphire Bones

Refurbished

Corvo

            Radio silence filled Emerald house after the Ryan incident, thus leaving my mother to vacation pictures and a bottle of wine by herself, locked away in her bedroom with no more tears left in her body. Not a day went by without a word or mention of him, but even the thought of his name brought her to her knees. My mother, abandoned by both of her mates, was left with nothing. A shell emptied by those who used her and refused to accept her as she was. I stood outside her door and listened to the gentle sobs filling the bedroom situated at the back of the house. While the rest of the hallway was lit by bright lamps on the walls, the door to my mother's room and the crack underneath was darkened by whatever depressed aura hid inside.

"Mom," I pushed my finger at her bedroom door. It creaked open and I slipped through it before it got too wide. I shut it behind me, leaving the two of us in the darkened room further blacked out by shut curtains and dead lights. She was at her window seat, legs pulled up into an arch while her elbows balanced on top of her knees. A blue satin robe concealed the pajamas underneath but her legs were exposed, a pale figure in an otherwise dark world.

"Corrie," she muttered but didn't turn her head, instead kept it propped on the curtain. The blonde curls on her head were tousled and slept on and her skin screamed for a shower. Her bed was unkempt, a raggedy mess of pillows and blankets, and clothing was strewn throughout covering almost the entire floor. Striding toward the back of the room, I only stopped once to click on a light near her bed. A bowl of cold soup sat next to the lamp, with the spoon as dry as it was when it came from the drawer. My mother hissed at the light and moved one of her hands up to shield the side of her face. Once the lamp clicked twice I finished my way over to the window seat and sat next to her feet, the side of my thigh just covering her toes. "Your sister said something, didn't she?" She asked, her fingers fiddling with the thick curtains next to her. Thick bags hung under her eyes, and what was once dazzling iris', were now dull and void of feeling.

"You're not eating," I said, frowning. Erin brought food upstairs every day but it got pushed around on the plate more often than not. "You can't survive off sleeping pills and cereal forever, mom."

"I can try," she snapped back. "It's all that'll stay down."

"It's not healthy."

"You don't get to tell me what's healthy, Corvo." My mother pulled her legs in closer to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Still, she refused to look at me but swiveled her head to look into the room. "You turned on the lights," she noted and stood probably for the first time in hours and went across the room to flip it back off. Aside from the obvious numbness in her legs as she walked, her stride was normal. "Please leave me alone," she said after the room darkened again. "I don't want visitors, especially not from you or your siblings." The statement burned at my heart but I refused to fight with her when she knew her life was coming to an end.

I stood without question; I learned a long time ago not to argue with family. "Fine," I said once I reached the door. My mother hung by the light, hand still up in the shade while she waited for my departure. Silence hung between us, my head dipped low. She cleared her throat once and that alone forced me to swing open the door and leave. Once clicked back shut a muffled sound came from the other side followed by the sliding of the internal lock. Just over the doorknob, my hand hovered hoping maybe she'd change her mind and come out for the first time in days but instead she retreated away from the door. Even though I knew she wouldn't emerge, I waited at the door a moment longer and listened, ear pressed to the door. No noise except the rustling of satin sheets and soft whimpers. There was nothing I could do. The light clicked off.

Down the long hallway on the fourth floor of Emerald House, and down the staircases until I hit the first floor, I traveled alone. My family's voices echoed from the living room and I couldn't help but follow them until I stood at the double-door wide entry, shoulder pressed to the wooden frame around the entrance. Ethel and Allison were as far apart as ever: on opposite sides of the room while their eyes diverted everywhere except on each other. Damien played the mediator between the two and sat alone despite his obvious desire to stick close to his mate. Allison curled underneath a throw blanket knitted by one of the pack grandmothers a few years ago. She wafted in the smell, pockets of scent hidden in the fibers and when she squeezed gently with just enough force a little escaped and filled her nose. My opinion of Allison hadn't wavered from hatred but she was still my brother's mate and I intended to make peace as long as they were together. Ethel flipped through a magazine previously forgotten about on one of the three coffee tables situated around the room. The edges were torn, used and read over and over yet my younger sister treated each page like a feather. She flipped the thin pages gently with two fingers and read slowly, eyes fixed on the page when she wasn't scanning the room. At a stopping point, she turned her gaze up from the page and landed on me. Damien couldn't see me but I was sure he sensed my presence even though I had yet to speak with any of them.