Fugitives: Chapter 19

I sat on my bed, crying. Tears streamed down my cheeks and soaked into my clothes. Ragged gasps tore inside of me. Over and over I replayed the scene in my mind. Esryn's eyes were wild, and his gleaming white scar stood out. “She was sick and dying! She may already be dead now! And all because of you.”

    My mother. The one person I loved the most, other than Asher. If I hadn't have let my fear run my head, I would have been reunited with her. She wouldn't have died. But I ran away, and she died of heartache.

    Echo walked into the room, and sat down beside me. She put an arm around me, and I leaned into her. “Ssh, Kya. Ssh.”

    “I killed her,” I whispered.

    “What?” Echo asked.

    “I killed her. I killed my mother. Esryn had bought her. She was at the palace. But she got sick and she died. All because I wasn't there. If I hadn't have run away, then I would be with her! She wouldn't be dead!”

    Echo took me firmly by the shoulder and made me look into her deep green eyes, with splotches of freckles across her face, framed by her chestnut hair. “Listen to me, Kya. You did not kill your mother. Do you understand? Even if you had been there, she still would have gotten sick. There was nothing you could do! It is not your fault!”

    I stared into her eyes. Part of me wanted to believe her, but... I looked away. “Thank you, Echo.” She took the hint and withdrew her arm.

    “See you later then.” She started out of the room, but paused and looked back. “I know that you haven't been eating, but tell me this. What good will it do to you if you starve yourself?” She turned and left.