By the time I laid her on the bed, she was already drifting. I pulled the blanket up and waited until her breathing steadied before turning to leave. Downstairs, the dining hall was clear of everything we had used to eat. The maids and guards had all left too, leaving my mother and her cup of coffee. She sat where she’d been before, her expression carefully composed.
“Mother,” I said quietly.
She looked up, sensing what was coming. “Yes?”
“Did you tell Myra she can’t see her doctor?”
Her fingers tightened on her glass. “I did. It was for her good.”
“For her good?” My voice stayed low, but every word was measured. “She came home in tears.”
“She needs distance from that woman,” she said sharply. “From that witch. Do you know what people are saying? That she’s pretending to be human, t
