Lark shook her head, a slight frown puckering the skin of her forehead. “No, never. Before it happened, I had actuallyjustbeen thinking how my magic had never been active like that. I mean, I have gifts. Don’t get me wrong. And I can do a lot, but I’ve never been able to light candles with my mind or move things without touching them. It’s just not my skill set. But things have been a little wonky recently. And my magic has only gotten stronger of late. What happened by the pond wasn’t something I could control—at least, not yet—but it’s yet another example of how things are changing.”
“For the good?” I asked, concern filling me.
“For the good,” she echoed and looked at Turner again, affection in her gaze.
He playfully tugged on a piece of her hair, and she ducked her head a little as if touched. It lit something inside me, seeing two of my favorite people coming together despite shared tragedies and the haymakers that life had thrown them recently.
“You handling news of your mom, okay?” I asked Lark, and watched as something crossed her eyes.
“As well as can be expected,” she said. “I mean, we’ve been estranged for nineteen years, and I’d kind of written her off even before that since she had clearly chosen sides. But she’s still my mom, you know?” She screwed up her lips a bit. “And knowing that she’s dying, it’s . . . hard.”
“Of course, it is,” I assured and rubbed her shoulder.
Just then, Dev and Hanlen walked over, hand in hand. “Hey, guys,” Dev said, looking as if he knew that something was up.
“Hey, boss,” Turner said, taking another small step away from Lark, likely giving her space to tell them in her own time and in her own way.
In answer, she just reached up and squeezed the back of his neck, making him grin and look down a bit bashfully. It was a new look on Turner, and I liked it.
“I’m sure you’re probably wondering what’s going on,” Lark said, glancing at Turner again. “We, ah . . . have news. More news, believe it or not. And since everybody’s here, we might as well tell you all.”
We all walked back into the courtyard, and Dev called everybody together again. When everyone was seated, I took my spot on one of the couches, and Lark sat next to me, Turner on her other side.
“So,” Lark began, looking at everyone, “there have been some . . . developments, and I—we,” she corrected, looking at Turner, “wanted to bring you all up to speed.”
“Is everything okay?” Harper asked.
Lark smiled, her eyes going a little misty. That warm fist clenched my heart again. “Yeah, everything’s kind of great.” She reached out and took Turner’s hand, and I watched looks of confusion pass over almost everyone’s face.
Turner picked up the thread. “Lark telling us all her story the other day was a shock to all of us.” When everyone nodded, he continued. “As was the fact that Kholt is from the same settlement.” More nods. “Obviously, I was really affected by the story.”
“We wondered why you shot out of here like a bat out of hell,” Aaron said.
“Yeah, you worried us.” Harper tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, sorry, guys. It just shook me because . . . well, I am, too,” Turner added.
I decided to chime in and hopefully smooth the energy of the room a bit. I could see the tensions rising. “Lark and I grew up together. She left when she was a teenager, and I left just over a decade ago. I knewofTurner back then, but it’s a big community, and with the age difference, we obviously weren’t close and didn’t really interact much.”
Turner looked at me. “Yeah, Kholt and I ran into each other again a few years ago and became friends doing some outreach work for my parents’ company, Allumer Âme.”
I nodded. “We were paired up to do some construction and engineering work for the foundation and kind of hit it off, even though he was only sixteen. You all know how smart and likable the kid is.” I grinned at Turner.
“Then, I reconnected with Lark,”—I flashed her a smile—“Turner being the catalyst there.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the kid grin, his expression smug. “We started piecing some things together.” I looked across Lark at Turner.
“Mom had just been diagnosed with cancer when I left for university,” Turner said. “But she was actually doing really well. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long. Between finishing school and moving to New Orleans, she told me that it’d come back and that she was terminal.”
“Oh, Turner, I’m so sorry,” Dakota consoled.
He swallowed hard and I could see that it was difficult for him to talk about his mom, especially after having been denied contact with her.
“That wasn’t the only bombshell she dropped on me, though.”
Lark reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze.
“She told me that she had a child from a previous marriage and asked me to find them. I’ve been looking ever since—with absolutely no luck.”
Lark squeezed Turner’s fingers again. “When I told you all my story the other day, some things started to click for Turner,” she said, looking at him again and giving him a soft smile. “And for Kholt.” She glanced at me. “I’m that child. His sister.”