Dark Promise by Julia Crane, Talia Jager Page B

nightgown, my wings popping out the top. At least they were flexible enough to wear clothes. As I crawled in bed, I noticed they did tuck in as I lay down.
    At least they don’t get in the way , I thought sleepily, and closed my eyes.

 

    A loud knock woke me up the next day. I groaned and pulled the blankets over my head. The door creaked open, and my mother said softly, “Rylie?”
    “What?” I peeked my head out from under the covers.
    “It’s almost lunch time. Why don’t you get ready, and we can go out for lunch and do some shopping?”
    My first thought was NO WAY! I didn’t want to be out in public knowing what I really looked like. But then I thought how nice a normal day with my mom would be. I threw the blanket to the side. “Okay,” I told her with a timid smile. “That sounds great.”
    “Come on down when you’re ready,” she told me with a smile, and then quietly slipped back out the door.
    I took a few minutes more to lie in bed before I stood up and let my wings out. They fluttered a couple times, enjoying the space. I grinned as I remembered the lovely feeling of the shower beating down on them. I was looking forward to it again.
    After my shower, I stood in front of the mirror. Without having to put on makeup, it took far less time for me to get ready. My hair seemed to fall into place on its own after I brushed it.
    The first shirt I tried on made my wings ache, so I had to rummage through my closet to find a shirt with a low enough back for my wings to be free. It was a good thing we were going shopping, because those kinds of shirts in my wardrobe were few and far between.
    I descended the stairs and found Mom in the kitchen, sitting at the table. Her face was partially covered by a vase filled with wild flowers. She looked up from the book she was reading.
    “I’m ready,” I announced.
    “Well, that was quick.” She placed a page holder in her book and put it on the counter. “Let’s go.”
    “Where’s Dad?” I looked into the den.
    “He went into work for a couple of hours.” My mother grabbed her sweater from the coat rack.
    “It’s Sunday.”
    She shrugged. “He said it was important. You know how he is.”
    We walked out to the car, a red sports coupe that my mom loved, and climbed in. Mom drove downtown to a café we visited often. It had the appearance of a cute French bistro—the walls were dark yellow, hung with classic French artwork, and the booths and tables were mahogany. The hostess seated us at a small table near the windows, where I ordered a house salad and club sandwich. It was odd—I could see my reflection in the glass beside me. I had to keep reminding myself that nobody else could see the real me.
    “How are you holding up?” Mom asked, pushing her lettuce around her plate. She seemed subdued.
    I blew out a long breath. “Still in shock, I think. Better than yesterday, though. I keep hoping I’m going to wake up and find that it was all just a bad dream.”
    “What do you think should happen now? Do you want to get to know Azura better?” My mother didn’t look at me as she took a bite of her salad.
    I glanced out the window; there was what was really bothering her. “I suppose I should talk to her at some point. Maybe tonight. I don’t know what else there is that I need to know. But…” I paused. “I don’t really want to talk to her either. I won’t have to go live with her? Right?”
    Mom’s eyes widened. “No. You’ll never have to do anything you don’t want to. We’re not letting you go that easy. We still have you for two more years before you’re off on your own. If she thinks she can just waltz in and take you from us, she has another think coming.”
    “What if she calls the cops or something?” I suddenly lost my appetite. Just talking about it made me nauseated.
    “And says what? That she’s a faery? That we stole you? We have proof we had a baby. We would counter with that and say she switched babies. It would be