Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Clearly, Liddy was not expecting that question, nor the commanding tone in which it was asked. The shocked expression on her face lingered for a long moment. If Cutter had taught Ru anything it was that she was more powerful than she’d ever given herself credit for. “Cutter grew up in the same town Seraphina did. He knows her mother. He came here looking for me, Mom.” It was difficult to let the word slip out of her lips, but then, she’d been choking on it for years. “I’m living with him and three other people now, all of them from the same place. And we’ll be going there in the next few days, looking for clues as to where she might be.” She said all of it with her jaw set, her gaze even, her insides on fire.

Shaking her head, Liddy said. “I have no idea why you would do something so reckless, Ruin. And totally unnecessary. To give up everything you’ve worked so hard for to find a woman who cast you aside. Who blamed you for ruining her life. Really, Ruin. I’ve always known you were stupid, but this has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. You should go back to that school tomorrow and apologize, ask them to give your job back.”

“I’m not here for you to talk me out of this,” Ru said, doing her best to ignore the names and other harsh words that erupted out of her mother’s mouth like a volcano. “I’m here to tell you goodbye. Amongst a few other things.”

Liddy didn’t catch the last phrase, though. “Well, you didn’t have to bother coming by to tell me that. I can tell you you’re an idiot in a text as well as I can in person. And don’t bother to ask for any money, either. You’re not getting a dime.”

Ru had to laugh. “When have I ever asked you for a dime?” Ever since she’d gotten enough in scholarships and grants to cover her college tuition and books, and a job to cover the rest of her expenses, there’d been no need, not that she’d even asked for anything in high school. Her mother had enough money to buy Nike shoes and stylish outfits for her sisters but couldn’t spring for Ru’s personal care needs, like deodorant, or even lunch at school. “Don’t worry. I’ve found another job that I can do while I’m searching for Sera that will cover my expenses. And I have savings.” Her mother had no need to know that Keepers were fully funded by a higher power, something Cutter had explained to her that Ru didn’t quite understand but realized quickly it didn’t matter. She’d be provided for.

Still shaking her head, Liddy said, “You are something else, Ruin.”

“Yeah about that,” Ru said, feeling her bravery waver a bit as she opened up her purse. “I have something to show you.” She pulled out the same sheet of paper Cutter had presented to her a few weeks ago and stood to hand it to Liddy.

She stared at the folded document a moment, looking Ru in the face, as if she was questioning what sort of nonsense this was, before snatching it away. “What is it?” She unfolded it, and Ru didn’t answer right away, letting her read. “A birth certificate? So what?”

“Look at it. Read it.”

“I did. What is your point?”

Exasperated, Ru said, “Rune! My name is Rune, not Ruin.”

Liddy looked at the document again, holding it closer to her face and then farther away as if she needed glasses, which she might’ve for all Ru knew. “This isn’t you.”

A loud, “Ha!” escaped Ru’s lips before she could rein it in. “What do you mean it isn’t me? Of course it is. Do you think another child happened to be born in the same state on the same day as me to a mother named Seraphina with a name as ridiculous sounding as my own?”

Liddy glared at her for a moment before looking at the document again. “What is your point, Ruin?”

“Rune! That’s exactly my point. My name is Rune. It was never Ruin. You named me that. You made me feel, from the age of three, like all I ever did was ruin everything.”

“That’s because you did!” Liddy replied, shouting now. “This piece of paper doesn’t prove anything, Ruin. You did ruin everything. I heard what your mother said. I was there.”

“I was there, too!”

“You weren’t even three! She said you ruined her life. I took you and put a roof over your head, despite the fact that you ruined everything you touched. Toasters. Blenders. Hairdryers. My refrigerator. The hot water heater….”

“Okay! I get that, Mother, but I was a little girl.”

“You were a disaster! It is a wonder you never killed anyone!”

Ru opened her mouth, a protest on the tip of her tongue, but she closed it again, realizing it would do no good. Whatever had made her feel like she could come here and argue with Liddy Brown in the first place? Once, when she was younger, Liddy had insisted Abraham Lincoln died at the beginning of the Civil War. How she’d gotten that idea in her head, Ru had no idea. The history book Ru showed her was not proof—it was wrong. Ru was wrong. Even when she was right, could not be more certain or blatantly correct, she was wrong, and Liddy Brown was right.

“Fine.” Liddy studied her face for a long moment before a satisfactory smile played at the corners of her lips, as if to say she knew it was fine. “Anyway, I’m going to look for her. I thought you should know.”

“And I think this will lead to nothing but trouble, but what do I know? I’ve always been wrong.”

The irony wasn’t lost on her, but Ru only slowly shook her head.

“You do remember what I told you about the bad people she was mixed up with, don’t you? You do know if they find you, they’ll likely kill you.”

Ru nodded. “I know more about them than you do.”

“Well good for you. If you lead them here, if something happens to one of your sisters, or to me or your father….”

“You’ll be fine.” Why a demon would want to mess with Liddy Brown was beyond her; the woman was doing their bidding, after all.

They sat in silence for several minutes, neither even looking at the other. A thousand questions played through Ru’s mind, and she had originally planned on asking several of them, but now, it didn’t seem to make any difference. Somehow, she’d hoped to get some sort of an apology, or at the very least a bit of remorse, at the way she’d been treated. Now, she realized, however, Liddy Brown was capable of neither an apology nor remorse; in her twisted mind, she’d done nothing wrong.

“I appreciate your willingness to take me in,” Ru said quietly, causing Liddy’s head to tip up, astonishment written all over her face. “You didn’t have to. So, thank you.”

Liddy nodded.

Clearing her throat, Ru continued. “Since I won’t be around much anymore, I wish you and Greg well.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something. It was Ru’s turn to nod. With a deep breath, she put the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I guess I should go.” She reached out her hand as she stood, and Liddy handed her the birth certificate, but she didn’t move. Ru headed toward the door.

She had reached the bottom step when a noise at the door caught her attention.

“Ru!”

Slowly, she turned her head to see the woman she’d called “mom” for as long as she could remember standing there, the expression on her face slightly remorseful.

“I know I didn’t treat you the same as the other two girls.”

Ru raised an eyebrow.

“But… that’s because you weren’t like them. I never understood you. I never… felt like you were mine. You were always so different.”

Having no idea what to say, Ru only continued to stare.

Liddy continued. “I guess I just never knew you like I knew my daughters… my older daughters.”

There it was. She never saw Ru as her own daughter. Swallowing hard, Ru said, “That’s too bad. Because I’m fabulous.” She watched Liddy’s face turn to a scowl before she turned and headed toward her car.

“Be careful!” Liddy shouted, followed by the expected, “You better not do anything to hurt your sisters!” Ru kept walking. She heard the door slam behind her, and as the noise reverberated around her, it shook her very soul. It was as if everything she’d ever bottled up inside, all the anger, the rage, the frustration, the tears, the longing to be loved, was shaken free and came lose, spilling all over the carefully manicured lawn outside of Liddy Brown’s home. Ru stepped over it and continued on, no longer bound by the restraints of the woman who could never be her mother.