Ophelia wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to the feeling of freefalling. Or the whispers. She tried to grasp to the conversations as she fell through the hopeless abyss, but every hushed conversation slipped past too quickly.
Then she heard the voice.
The same loud voice she’d heard the first time she fell through this never-ending darkness. She tried to pull herself toward it as if she were swimming through the air.
Ophelia.
Ophelia’s heart thundered and she spurred herself toward it again, or at least what she thought was forward.
Ophelia.
“Mother?” she whispered into the dark.
Ophelia!
“Momma!” she cried, swimming faster, unable to see a single thing in front of her and then—
—a single glimpse of light. A twinkle in the distance, calling to her. She pushed and pushed until the light grew closer, slowly taking the shape of person as she approached.
The shape of her mother.
Ophelia, my darling.
Tessie Grimm was a radiant vision of light. A sob racked Ophelia’s body as she took in her mother’s face, her face, for the first time since seeing the woman in a casket.
Ophie, you shouldn’t be here for too long. This place is not for you.
“I didn’t mean to come here,” Ophelia promised. “I keep accidentally summoning it.”
What have you gotten yourself into, child?
Ophelia swallowed. She didn’t know how much time she would be able to stay here. Better to rip the bandage off quickly.
“Genevieve and I, we entered… Phantasma.”
If Tessie Grimm wasn’t already dead, Ophelia was pretty sure she’d have dropped right then and there.
What? Did the two of you lose your damn minds since I’ve been gone?
“Yeah. We kind of did. You left us.”
Not voluntarily.
“I know.” She swallowed. “But you lied voluntarily. Why didn’t you ever tell me about Phantasma? Or our father?”
All the anger that had been burning inside Ophelia since she found her mother’s corpse in their living room suddenly vanished now that she was face to face with the woman again. For the first time in so long, she felt like a child standing there, not angry but disappointed at the realization that parents are fallible too. All her bravado of wanting to confront her mother and scream and yell and blame her for everything that had happened dissipated the moment she realized that seeing her again was nothing short of a gift, and that gift should not be wasted.
Because it was the biggest regret of my life, and I wanted you to avoid all the pain that came with it. Things with your father—they ended terribly. And that was our own fault. We knew better and fell for each other anyway. I tried to make it work afterward. I had you and then Genevieve in hopes to make him happy, but Gabriel… he became a danger. And I became numb. Her mother looked regretful now. I can’t tell you what to do, Ophelia. And if there’s one thing that’s always been certain—you are absolutely my daughter.
Another sob threatened to erupt from her. “Yes. I am.”
But, please, for me, be careful.
“I…” Ophelia began, but she knew whatever she was about to say would be a lie. The truth was, she hadn’t been careful. She had come to Phantasma despite her better judgment. Not to mention her relationship with Blackwell…
You received your magic, her mother inserted when she was quiet for a little too long. I knew you could do it.
It wasn’t I’m proud of you, but it was as close as her mother would ever get. And besides, Ophelia was proud of herself. And finding more and more that mattered to her above anything else.
Ophelia swallowed. “Yes, I got my magic. And you would hate what I’ve done with it.”
Why don’t you tell me?
So, Ophelia did. She told her mother about how they learned of Grimm Manor’s debt and her and Genevieve’s fight and running away to Phantasma. She explained how she found their parents’ names carved in the floor of the hidden room and what she’d been through in every trial. She confessed that she killed Eric. And then there was Blackwell.
Her mother was quiet as Ophelia spoke, face blank. And if Ophelia thought Tessie would have a lot to say about every little mistake she’d made, she was surprised.
First, I want you to know that you must carve your own path in life, Ophie. Our family legacy meant a lot to me, yes, but it’s your turn to make your own legacy. Do not live your life according to what you think would have pleased me. I was too hard on you, I think. I thought I was making you strong, but I see now that I put too much pressure on you and it was too heavy. Death brings so much clarity.
Ophelia felt like she had been waiting twenty-three years to hear those words from her mother, and now that they had been spoken, something that had been broken inside of her for so long began to mend.
Second, and this one is important, stay the Hell away from that Phantom.
Ophelia shook her head. “He hasn’t hurt me. I swear. In fact, I’m only alive because of him. I’m worried about Genevieve.”
You have no idea what you’re up against, Ophelia. Loving him will only ruin you. Do you understand me?
Ophelia was taken aback. Love? No… she couldn’t possibly love Blackwell. He was a Ghost. And they had only known each other for a week. They were partners, lovers even, yes. But she wasn’t in love.
Oh, my darling. I’m begging you to stay away from him.
Ophelia swallowed. From experience, she knew she couldn’t promise her mother such a thing. As long as she and Blackwell were in proximity with each other, they seemed to crash together. The locket around her throat began to beat. She looked down at it.
“Mother? Where did our family get this locket?”
I’m not sure. All I know is that my mother passed it to me, as hers did to her, and so on for generations of Grimm women. You mustn’t ever take it off.
“Why?”
Before her mother could answer, the light around her began to flicker.
“What’s happening?” Ophelia asked.
It’s time for me to go now. Good luck, Ophelia. Tell Genevieve I love her.
“I will. But we’ll meet again someday,” Ophelia vowed.
Her mother smiled.
Not too soon, though, my darling. Live.
