Chapter 37 37
ARIELLE'S POV
Some days later, a thick, official-looking envelope arrived, bearing the city’s college seal. My heart did a funny little flip-flop in my chest. I snatched it from the pile of mail on the hall table and practically ran up to my room, my fingers fumbling with the expensive paper.
I tore it open, my breath held. The excitement was a fizzy, hopeful bubble rising in my throat. This was it. My choice. My first real step away from the shadow of this house, from the constant reminders of what I wasn’t, and become what I want.
But the bubble popped almost immediately. Right there, in bold print on the second page, was the condition: ‘This offer of acceptance is contingent upon the signed consent of a parent or legal guardian.’
The paper felt suddenly heavy in my hands. All my defiant energy from the other night, all my big talk to Sheila about taking control, shriveled up. Of course. I was still, in the eyes of the world and the college, a minor. My mother’s signature held the key, and she’d already made it clear she wanted to turn that key in a completely different lock.
Later that afternoon, I found Granny and Quinta in the sunroom, shelling peas into a big ceramic bowl. I showed them the letter, my finger pointing to the damning line. “Look. I applied for admission into Deal College. I need a signature.”
They stopped their rhythmic pop-pop and leaned in to read. Their faces fell in perfect, synchronized dismay.
“Oh, Arielle,” Granny sighed, wiping her hands on her apron. “You went ahead and applied without even speaking to her?”
“Well, I already said I’d make my own decisions,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
They exchanged one of those looks—the kind that spoke volumes without a single word passing between them. It was a look full of worry, of ‘we told you so,’ and of deep, motherly concern.
I stood up from the arm of the sofa where I’d been perched, sighing in frustration. “Can you guys just… support me? For once? Instead of acting like I just committed a grand theft?”
They nodded, but their expressions didn’t change. “We do support you, child,” Quinta said gently. “But… what is it you want from us, exactly?” She gave me that knowing, dreadful look, like she already knew the answer and was already dreading it.
Then Granny voiced it, her voice a quiet plea. “Please don’t tell me you want one of us to sign in place of your mother.”
The truth was, I hadn’t fully thought it through. I’d been riding a wave of ‘I’ll show her,’ and the logistics had been a blur. But now, faced with their frightened faces, the idea solidified. It was reckless, stupid, and probably wouldn’t work. But it was the only card I had.
I nodded.
Their fright wasn’t hidden. Quinta’s hands stilled completely. “Arielle, that’s forgery! Luna Serena would…”
“I’ll handle the repercussions!” I cut in quickly, before my own courage failed. “After the deed is done. I’ll take all the blame. She can’t be mad at you, she’ll just be furious with me, which is nothing new. But at least I’ll be in.”
I was so focused on their conflicted faces, on trying to will them into agreement, that I didn’t hear the door to the sunroom open. The voice that spoke next wasn’t Granny’s or Quinta’s. It was like a bucket of ice water thrown over the three of us.
“Is it really how little you consider me as your mother,” the voice said, cold and clear, “that you seek to do something so deceitful to get your way?”
My blood ran cold. I almost crumpled the acceptance letter in my fist, but I forced my fingers to relax. I turned slowly.
My mother stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her posture rigid. She wasn’t looking at me. Her gaze was sweeping over Granny and Quinta with a judgment so sharp it felt physical.
They scrambled to their feet, peas scattering. “Um, Serena, we weren’t—” Quinta began.
“We would never come between a mother and daughter,” Granny finished, her voice uncharacteristically meek.
I turned and stared at them, betrayal a hot, sour taste in my mouth. Are they just running for cover now? After they practically agreed?
My mother’s voice cut through my thoughts, leaving no room for argument. “Come to my office, Arielle. Now.”
I watched her turn and walk away, her heels clicking a firm, final rhythm on the polished floor. I let out a long, shaky sigh. As I passed Granny and Quinta, they both gave me tiny, helpless gestures—a pat on the arm from Granny, a worried nod from Quinta. A silent ‘good luck.’ It felt useless.
Luna Serena’s mind, once set, was granite. I didn’t think even if my father woke up this very second and tried to reason with her, it would make a difference. It might take the Moon Goddess herself descending to change it.
The next minute, I was standing before the vast, imposing desk in her office. She didn’t sit. She just stood behind it, staring at me. The silence was a weapon. I could hear the old grandfather clock in the corner ticking, each second a hammer blow.
I mustered every scrap of courage I had left. I walked forward, the letter in my hand feeling like a peace offering and a declaration of war all at once. I placed it carefully on the smooth, dark wood of her desk and slid it toward her. Then I lifted my gaze and held hers.
“I need you to sign this,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “It’s the consent form for Seal College. I just got my acceptance.”
She didn’t look at the paper. Her eyes stayed locked on mine. “I won’t,” she said, the words simple and final. “Do you think I eat my words? I told you I am sending you elsewhere.”
I inhaled, the air feeling thin. “Please…”
“You cannot go to Seal College!” she snapped, and this time, she did move. She slammed her palm flat on the desk. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room. For a terrifying second, her eyes flashed—a brief, wolfish gold glow that made me shrink back instinctively. “It is hours from the pack! How will you cope? Who will watch over you?”
“I’ll stay in the college dorms,” I said quickly, the plan forming even as I spoke. “I’ll be responsible. I’ll come home every month, I swear. I don’t want to go to college in another city. I want to go here.”
“Really?” The word was a challenge.
“Yes.”
She looked at me, her head tilting slightly, like a scientist examining a particularly stubborn specimen. “And what if I don’t let you have your way? Will you rebel against me? Run away?”