11. In You I Believe

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Diana's brows crease.

"What do you mean, Athy?" she asks slowly. She must know that I can't lie because of the Tears of the Sun.

The corners of my lips lift upward mirthlessly.

"Mom, I..."

I swallow. Here, as I teeter on the edge of the line between past and present, I've never felt more afraid.

What if Diana shuns me after she hears my story? What if she thinks I'm a lunatic and sends me to Obelia's equivalent of a mental institution?

Or what if...

What if she doesn't even care?

"Athanasia."

Again, she calls me by that name.

"My daughter."

Am I really, though?

Her palm strokes the top of my head, and warmth spreads from that gentle contact.

"I will always be on your side."

She doesn't know how terrifying her words are. No one has ever said them to me, be it in my past or present life. There is nothing eternal in this world, and the word "always" is a mockery of all the lies and betrayals that have stained mankind since the beginning of time.

Before my father in my past life abandoned me, he told me that he would always love me. That illusion held until the day he remarried and I became an eye sore, a reminder of a failed marriage and his deceased former wife.

And that day I watched as he dumped me at the orphanage and never looked back, as his figure grew smaller in the distance, as he answered a phone call and sweetly addressed my younger half-sister...

It was the day that illusion finally shattered. The only thing those invisible shards hurt and cut up was me. The only one who felt those unseen wounds was me. And the only one left in such stifling despair was also me.

Even so...

I want to believe her.

Can I believe her?

"I... When I was born, I recalled the memories of my past life," I blurt out. My gaze lowers from Diana's, and my hands fidget restlessly at my side. Her hand falls away from my head, and I know if I look at her I'll see shock and confusion. Maybe even betrayal.

But I continue, my words coming out strangled, "This world is inside that of a novel I read, called 'The Lovely Princess'."

My throat is dry, and my words come out as a croak, "But I'm not the protagonist. In the story... I..."

My chest rises and falls rapidly.

"I... died when I was eighteen. At the hands of my birth father."

I raise my eyes to meet Diana's gaze. The crimson hue in her eyes has darkened into blood red. I taste bitter ashes on my tongue.

"Claude will kill me, Mom."

Silence.

In this lovely garden of such thriving vibrance, the revealed truths paint our surroundings in a sea of lifeless gray until only Diana and I are left staring at each other, the only existences that matter at this taut moment.

I can't stand the silence.

The smile on my lips doesn't fade. It brightens.

Fake.

False.

Lies.

"So Mom, can't you listen to me just this once?"

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