Ashes to Blood

Chapter Twenty One

Eden's POV

"I can smell smoke. Were you two smoking again!?"

Mum's voice cracked through the hallway like a gunshot—sharp, merciless, and aimed at Damien and Knox.

Beautiful. For once, I'm not the target.

"It wasn't just us!" Knox blurted before his brain could catch up with his mouth, pointing at me like the cowardly rat bastard he is.

I froze mid-victory grin. "You fucking snitch—OW!"

Pain exploded in my ear as Mum's fingers hooked me like a pro wrestler and twisted with the righteous fury of a woman who'd birthed six kids and survived all of them.

"WHAT THE—Mum!" I squeaked, flailing. "I'm losing circulation!"

"I'll deal with you two later," she told the traitor twins without even looking. Then her eyes pinned me like a butterfly in a glass case. "But you. Sixteen years old. Smoking? In my house?"

"Correction," I hissed, prying at her iron grip, "outside the house—"

Another twist. My knees buckled. "Alright! I'm sorry!"

She let go finally, and blood whooshed back into my cartilage like an army marching home.

"Hand me the lighter and cigarettes," she said, palm up, unimpressed.

For half a second, I considered lying. Pretending I didn't have them. Pretending Knox planted them on me. Pretending I don't even know what a cigarette is—what is nicotine, Mother?

Then I caught the vein throbbing in her temple and decided I like living. I dug into my hoodie and handed them over like a war criminal surrendering contraband.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted Damien and Knox trying to sneak away. Slowly. Like one inch per minute slowly. As if moving at a snail's pace made them invisible.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mum asked without turning around.

They froze mid-step, like statues in a horror movie.

"You're not off the hook either," she added, then—without breaking eye contact with me—yoinked both their ears.

Perfect aim. Perfect timing. Years of practice.

"OW—Mum!" Knox yelped.

"We're literally adults," Damien complained, jaw clenched in agony.

"I am still your mother," she replied simply. Mafia law. Debate over.

We were screwed. Officially.

The Next Morning

Punishment was rolled out like state execution.

"Since you three think smoke belongs in your lungs," Mum said sweetly, "you'll be scrubbing every bathroom in this mansion."

Spoiler: there are more bathrooms than any human building should legally contain.

By Bathroom #4, Knox was moaning like a widow in a telenovela.
By Bathroom #7, Damien threatened to form a union.
By Bathroom #11, my soul left my body and hovered near the ceiling like, what did I do in a past life to deserve this?

Mum stood at the doorway of Bathroom #12, smug as a queen. "Maybe next time, you'll keep your lungs clean."

"Yes, Mum," we droned in unison, scrubbing like broken Roombas.

School

Ezra dropped me off later, yelling out the window like an idiot: "DON'T PUNCH ANYONE BEFORE SECOND PERIOD!"