I cut Marcus off. "You don’t need to fight my battles, Marcus. I’ll do as he says."
I turned and walked out.
Marcus didn’t follow.
When I entered my room, I froze. My mother sat on the edge of my bed, her posture stiff, her eyes cold.
She stood as soon as I stepped in.
"You shouldn’t be staying in this room," she said flatly. "It doesn’t suit you anymore. A servant will move your things to a new room."
I opened my mouth to respond—to call her Mom—but the memory of her words stopped me. She didn’t want me to call her that anymore.
"Okay," I murmured instead.
She walked to the door but paused before leaving.
"Lily’s birthday is in three days," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "You’ll kneel at her empty grave and tell us where you hid her body. If you confess, maybe we can start to heal from the pain you caused." She took a breath, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. "If Kian were still alive, he would’ve killed you himself. And he would never have forgiven you—just like we never will."
The door shut behind her.
My tears fall as my knees gave out, and I crumpled onto the cold floor. Silent sobs wracked my body as grief and betrayal ripped through me, clawing at my soul.