Chapter 63 You look like your Mom.

Chapter 63 You look like your Mom.
Zoe's POV

I couldn't sleep.

Not even close.

I was lying on my back staring at the ceiling with both hands flat on my stomach and my brain running so fast I could feel it behind my eyes.

Benjamin's voice. Luther's voice. The two of them sitting across from me in that lit up room like they were planning a dinner party and not a man's death.

You're our next solution.

Our true saviour.

That was what Benjamin had said. Looking right at me. Calm. Certain. Like it was already decided.

And Luther.

I turned onto my side. Pulled my knees up.
Luther King.

That face.

I reached for the locket without thinking. Held it in my fist in the dark.

Who was he. Who could tell me. Because every time my brain completed the circle I kept arriving at an answer I wasn't ready to hold yet.

And then she came to me.

The old woman.

I had almost forgotten her. Almost buried her under everything else. But lying here in the dark she rose back up like something that had been waiting patiently for me to be still enough to remember.

This was during my first time in Lakewood.
When I was still Zoe.

Before the poison. Before the execution stand. Before Jeremy put a bullet in me and threw me in that river like I was nothing.

I had been in Lakewood for few weeks, Working as his personal slave and slave to slaves .

The first time she found me I was sent to the market by one of the slaves who hated me, crossing the market path near the south end of the pack. Head down. Moving fast.

"Child."

I almost walked past her.

She was small. Wrapped in a brown shawl. White hair. Eyes that were far too sharp for someone her age.

"Child." She said again. Louder.

I stopped. Looked at her. "Can I help you?"

She stared at my face. Long. Unblinking. The way people stare when they see something that has no business being there.

"Forgive me." She said finally. Her voice soft. Almost to herself. "You look exactly like someone I knew."

"I get that sometimes." I said politely. And kept moving.

The second time was near the herb stalls. Four days later.

"You again."

I turned. She was right behind me. Those sharp eyes moving over every inch of my face like she was counting something.

"I need you to hear me out." She said. "Just one moment. That's all I ask."

"I really don't think—"

"You look exactly like your mother." She said it quiet and certain. Like she wasn't guessing. Like she knew. "When she was young. Exactly like her."

Something cold moved through my chest.
"I think you have me confused with someone else." I said carefully.

"No." She shook her head. Once. Firm. "No I don't. I never forget a face. Not hers. Not in years. And not yours."

I walked away.

The third time she found me sitting alone at the far edge of the training grounds. Early morning. Almost nobody around.

"I know you don't want to hear this." She sat down beside me without asking. Folded her hands in her lap like she had all the time in the world. "But I am an old woman and I have waited too long already to be ignored." She turned to look at me. "My name is Natasha.
Your mother was my closest friend."

I looked at her then. Really looked.

Small. Fragile looking. But those eyes. Steady. Certain. Carrying something heavy in them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said.

"Your mother and I were best friends. We did everything together." She said quietly. "She was the most beautiful woman across three packs. Warm. Fierce. Loyal to her bones." She paused. "And you have her eyes. Her nose. The exact way she holds her mouth when she is trying not to show what she is feeling." She nodded at my face. "The way you are doing right now."

My jaw tightened.

"I'm sorry." I said. Standing up. "I really don't know who you're talking about."

I left before she could say another word.

The fourth time she didn't give me room to run.
She stepped right into my path near the east wall. Both hands out. Like she was stopping traffic.

"I know you are one of the twins." She said. No greeting. No soft approach. Just straight into my face. "Please child. I am begging you. Just tell me. Tell me which one you are."

I looked down at her hand on mine.

My heart was so loud.

I gently removed my hand from hers.
"I'm sorry." I said. "I truly am. But I don't know what you're talking about."

And I walked away.

That was the last time I saw her before everything fell apart.

The poison accusation came fast after that

Then the crowd. Then the execution stand.

Then the fire beneath my feet.

I had been standing tied above those flames and through the blur and the heat and the fear I had seen her.

Natasha.

At the back of the crowd. That small face completely crumpled. Hand pressed over her mouth. Those sharp eyes wet and spilling over.
Watching me like she was losing someone she had already lost once before.

Like she knew exactly who I was.

And couldn't save me.

I knew she wasn't lying. Since this is my birth land, my mother and father should still have few people who would never forget them but my mission as of then do not permit me to be vulnerable.

I sat up in bed now.

The locket was still in my fist.

I opened it. Held it up in the dark even though I couldn't see the photograph properly. I didn't need to. I had memorised every line of those two faces since I was four years old.

Natasha knew my mother.

Natasha knew about the twins.

Natasha knew about the nanny.

If anyone in this entire pack had answers. Real answers. The kind that could explain what was happening to me and who I actually was and what that man's face meant.

It was her.

She lived far. Right at the end of the pack near the oldest trees. When it looks like she was stalking me back then I stalked her back, right to her house. Incase I needed her but that day never came.

But maybe the day is here now.

I would go tomorrow. First light. Before anyone needed Lady Margaret to be anywhere or anyone.

I would go find Natasha.

I was must have slept off while turning the idea around in my mind, cause the next thing I woke up to was....Three firm knocks on my door.

I frowned. Looked at the small clock on the wall. It's barely morning.

I got up. Pulled my robe tight around me.

Walked to the door and opened it.

Jeremy.

"What are you doing here." I said.