My Date From Hell (The Blooming Goddess Trilogy, #2)

That Was Unexpected (Part 2)

Felicia is Demeter?

Impossible. My entire body rebelled at the thought. There was no way that Felicia was Demeter. No way that my horrible excuse for a parent was the same caring mother of legend.

I don't know if she got bored of the view or felt the weight of my gaze, but she turned and looked at me.

Saw me staring at the twirling pencil.

Her hand faltered for a second.

"Mom?"

Her chin came up and she calmly met my eyes.

Oh.

Felicia was Demeter.

I lost the thread of the rest of the meeting.

Stopped caring.

The world ground down into slow motion. Sounds were distorted, movements grotesquely disjointed.

When I'd met the sham Demeter at Maia's, the imitation had gelled with who I'd imagined Demeter to be. And while my friends had been suspicious of her, none of them had disputed the caring she'd shown.

In fact, Kai had insisted on how much Demeter loved Persephone. How much she would love me.

I ground my palms into my temples, tried to stop the sensation of my head being cinched in a vise. I couldn't understand it. Sixteen years. She'd been near me this entire time and I could count the number of warm, fuzzy memories I had of her on one hand.

She knew she hadn't lost me. Hadn't lost Persephone. No, she had known who I was.

Had to have arranged it somehow, without even Theo knowing. Because I knew in my gut this would all be news to him.

I raised my head and stared at Felicia, each blink of my lashes a heavy thud, wondering how. And why?

Why hadn't she loved me?

Why hadn't she at least talked to me when my goddess side was awoken?

Doucette, Locke, and the psychologist were still talking amongst themselves. But Felicia simply watched me with a shrewd look.

I met her eyes and the hatred that flashed there for the briefest second made me grip the underside of my chair, paralyzed in fear.

Why did she hate me so much?

My breath caught. Hate me enough to kill me. Or, kill Persephone.

Because sixteen years ago, that's exactly what she'd done.

And if she could murder the child for whom she'd arranged the stars in the sky, what was she going to do to me, who she'd never cared about?

I started to shake. I had never felt so cold, so scared, or so lost.

Eventually, I became aware that everyone was watching me.

Dazed, I blinked at them.

The other adults exchanged a concerned look.

"As you can see," I started at Felicia's perfectly modulated voice. "My daughter has problems."

Huh? I snapped back to attention.

"All this business about her father is a lie. Look at her, she's spaced out, her eyes are glassy, she's clearly under the influence."

I shook my head. "No. It's because ... you're my mother."

"See?" Felicia nodded as if I'd proved her point. "Unaware of the obvious. I'm afraid," she continued, "that I'm going to have to remove Sophie. Bring her home for her own benefit."