I stared down at those fingers, and she whispered, “You’re mom was beautiful.”

Pain sliced through me, and I fought to see her healthy in my head. But the memories didn’t come. The only memories that filtered into my mind were of her lying paralyzed in bed, with her sad, dark eyes watching helplessly as our lives fell apart. All I remembered was the day I came home with the Stidda on my left cheek—the Heighter mark confirming I’d taken my first shot at a rival King—and the pain that echoed on her broken stare. This was the stare that replayed in my head each night. That and—

“What happened, Levi?” Elsie asked quietly.

My breathing labored, as Elsie let me go. She walked to the side of the angel sculpture that saw my mamma broken and lost, her body dying, face wracked in pain. But what broke me most was Elsie dropping to her knees before my mamma’s cupped hands, black ash in her palms, drawn by death’s insistent pull.

The sight of the girl I was losing my heart to, kneeling before the woman with the already shattered heart, began to overpower me. Elsie reached out her trembling hand and cupped my mamma’s frail cheek. Elsie’s bottom lip quivered, then her gaze fell to me.

“ALS,” I rasped, now overcome with emotion by the unfolding scene. “She died slowly and painfully. She died before our very eyes, day by day, minute by minute, but—”

“What?” Elsie prompted, her eyes back on my mamma. I walked closer, and closer still, feeling like a magnet was steadily drawing me to the sweet silent girl who had blasted into my life like a hurricane.

I lowered myself to the floor and my head dropped in shame. Elsie shifted before me. I took comfort in the sweet smell of coconuts from her hair. But the shame, the guilt her question had sparked, broke the dam I’d built up inside.

“Levi—”

“She fell unconscious, alone. I was in the trailer, I was meant to be in her room watching her, it was my turn, but—”

This time Elsie didn’t push. I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering that night; the last night my mamma opened her eyes. I opened my mouth. As though it was fighting for its freedom, with rosary rotating in hand, I admitted my biggest sin…

The rain bounced off the trailer’s roof as I sat on the floor of my mamma’s bedroom, her soft weakening eyes watching my every move.

Axel was gone. He had run away from the police after someone OD’d on the drugs he had dealt. Austin had taken his place as the Heighters’ right hand man. Austin was outside now, standing in the rain, waiting for the paying druggies to come get their fix.

I read the sentence again but my mind wasn’t on it. Dropping the pen and paper to the floor, I rested my head against the mattress of Mamma’s small bed. I stared at the damp-stained roof and took a deep breath. Feeling I was being watched, I turned my head to the side, to find Mamma’s eyes watching me.

I blushed, never liking being under any attention. Shifting until I sat right before where she lay, I smiled and said, “You okay, Mamma?” My mamma’s eyelids closed, her most recent sign for ‘yes’, but I could see something else was in that stare. And it frightened me. Her eyes were dull, and the usual light sitting in their depths had dimmed.

I cast my eyes over her body, noting how thin she had become in recent weeks. A lump built in my throat but I swallowed it back, wanting nothing more than a miracle to occur, and for her to get to her feet and walk.

A soft noise came from her mouth, and I ran my hand down her face. She was cold. Real cold. My stomach flipped, not liking how cold she was.

Seeing her rosary beads on her side table, I placed them in her hand, moving her fingers through the beads and locking them in place. “There you go, Mamma,” I said. “You got your beads with you now.” Mamma’s eyes widened, and I knew that was her sign for me to stay, to speak.

Clearing my throat, I picked up my paper for school and said, “We’re studying the Roman Gods, Mamma. You’d like it.” My smile faded and I dropped the paper to the ground. The thunder clapped up ahead, and I unconsciously moved closer to my mamma, pressing my hand to lay over hers. Mamma’s eyes tracked my every move, flinching as the thunder exploded above.

Forcing a smile, I said, “Don’t worry, Mamma. It’s just the Roman God’s telling the world they’re still here.” I waited, wanting to catch the humor, or even a sign of recognition in my mamma’s eyes. But there was no happiness. Instead I saw tiredness. Utter exhaustion.

A teardrop fell from her eye, stabbing me like a knife. I watched the tear pass down her cheek. Then another fell. And another. Mamma’s face paled, and my heartbeat fired off, deep fear taking hold. I wondered what was going on. Then, in her brown eyes, I saw what I thought was—

The sound of a car pulling up outside grabbed my attention. Unable to cope with that look in her eyes, the look that brought me more fear than any life in the gang or on the streets could bring, I jumped to my feet, leaving the rosary in her hand. Sucking in a breath, I burst into the dark trailer park, into the torrential rain, only to see Romeo Prince, Austin’s best friend, standing in front of his truck.

And I ran to him. I ran to him and he pulled me to his chest. My heart thundered and I fought the tears threatening to pour. I wanted to stay out here, I was too afraid to go back inside.

I was too afraid to see what had looked like the final goodbye in her eyes. At her body that no longer had the strength to keep going.

But Austin ordered me back inside to check on Mamma. It was my duty tonight. Nodding my head at Austin, I walked back into the trailer. As soon as the trailer door shut, silence clogged the air.

Forcing my heavy feet to take me to Mamma’s room, I pushed open the door, to see the rosary on the floor, Mamma’s hand limp and hanging over the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed, and I ran forward, dropping to my knees.

“No,” I whispered, and took Mamma’s hand in mine. “Mamma, open your eyes,” I pleaded, never prepared for this moment, not believing this moment could be real.

“Mamma, please,” I whispered, but she didn’t move. I sat, frozen, intently watching her chest—it barely moved.

I shook my head. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for her to leave. Axel was gone. Austin couldn’t cope… I was too young. I couldn’t… I couldn’t.

But I knew this was it. I knew she was slipping away. My mamma was leaving us for good…