Rebecca's eyes gleamed with triumph.
My pupils contracted. "What did you just say?"
She sauntered closer, lifting one manicured finger toward the bursting colors overhead.
"A monk told me your family's vengeful spirits were haunting my baby. That's why I've been so unwell." She smiled, serene as a saint. "He said the only way to protect my child was to deal with your family properly."
She paused, savoring the moment.
"So I had your parents' ashes—and your baby's—made into fireworks. To bless my child." Her smile widened. "And to make sure their souls never find peace. Not in this life. Not in the next."
I lurched forward, a scream tearing from my throat.
"Why? Why would you do this to them? My parents—whatever their sins—they helped you once! Why couldn't you let them rest in death? Why scatter their bones to the wind?"
My hand hadn't even touched her when she crumpled backward.
The next second, a crushing force slammed into me.
Mason caught Rebecca in his arms, his gaze slicing into me like a blade.
"Chloe." His voice was ice. "I warned you. Touch her again, and I will end you."
I stared at him—at the hatred carved into every line of his face—and something inside me finally shattered.