The walk home felt less dreary than usual. It was dark outside and cold for the season, but she still took her time.

A weak, golden glow came from the top of the Second Sun. It did little to brighten the night but served as a reminder of everything that had been lost.

She sped up once she entered Small Miracle. Unsavory elements came out at night—thieves, Villains, even Beasts if you were unlucky. She was no longer confident that she could protect herself if something did happen.

There were few people outside at this time of night. Those that were tended to stick in tight groups, throwing her suspicious glances.

She kept her head high despite it. Cowering like a beaten mutt wouldn’t do any good.

I’ll keep Aribel together. A neighborhood, a city, a country—I’ll do all I can.

Her house in Small Miracle lay on an intersecting road to Renewal Street. The squat, one-story domicile had certainly seen better days. The wooden walls were unpainted and had rotted at the bottom where the grass had taken root around the house. The windows were shuttered and the flimsy door was adorned with an iron lock.

It was a house, better than some, but not her home. They’d had to sell that years ago. Dad’s pension couldn’t have lasted forever, after all.

Lace produced the key and opened the door. She entered the darkened hall and kicked her shoes off, walking barefoot across the creaky floorboards.

She had gotten a bundle of leftovers from the inn—cold beef, whole mushrooms, and boiled potatoes. She ate half and left the rest for Mom in the small kitchen area. After that, she would have normally done some fighting and Power practice. Today, however, she just didn’t bother. Her body was a wreck, drained from work and bruised from fighting.

She checked up on Mom in the bedroom. She was asleep in a corner, wrapped in a blanket. Three empty vials with traces of pink, luminescent liquid lay around her. ‘Angel’s kiss’ was the drug’s official name. Most people just called it ‘love potion’.

Lace always remembered Mom as a woman with fair skin, luminous, blonde hair and an infectious smile. Her current state conflicted harshly with those memories. Her hair was matted and tangled, cheeks hollow, limbs thin and grasping. She shuddered in her sleep, gripping the blanket tightly.

Lace went back out into the main part of the house and got down in her little corner in the kitchen area. There was enough space for her in the bedroom, but she didn’t want to disturb Mom while she was sleeping.

She pried open a floorboard and dropped ten coppers into the coin purse she kept beneath the floor. She replaced the plank, slowly and carefully.

She wrapped herself up in the threadbare blanket she kept there She said a prayer to the Creator on her Dad’s behalf, then one for her Mom. It was only minutes before the warm hands of oblivion reached out and took her.

*****

The swirl of dreams gave way to the sensation of clawing hands and a hot, ragged breath.

“Wake up!”

Lace stirred. Her eyes shot open as sleep’s fugue slowly lifted and feeling returned to her limbs. Mom stood over her, eyes wide in the first light of dawn.

“Where is it?” Mom asked.

“Where’s what?”

“The money. You got your pay today, didn’t you?” She stuck out her hand. “Give it to me. I need it.”

“Mom, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lace said. “Mom, that stuff you take is poison, not potion. I don’t want you going off in the small hours on your own. Creator only knows what would happen.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Mom’s outstretched hand became a grasping claw. She grabbed Lace’s wrist. The tips of her fingers were stained pink from scraping the inside of her bottles for the last few drops.

“Are you taking an ungrateful tone with me?” Mom said. Her nostrils flared and her eyes widened. “Give me the money.”

“No. I can’t do that. It’s for your own good.”

Mom’s grip tightened until it was painful. Lace gritted her teeth and tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go.

“Just tell me where it is!” Mom howled. Her countenance shifted between rage and agony. “I don’t want to be here… I don’t…”

Lace shook her head. “Fine. I’ll give you the money, but only if you promise not to buy any more love potion,” Lace said. “Some time off the stuff will help you think more clearly. Please. For Dad’s sake.”

One of Mom’s eyes twitched at the mention of Lace’s father. “I promise,” she said. Her grip loosened slightly.

Lace got the coins out of her pocket and handed them over. Mom released her grip and took the dull coppers in both hands. A shudder went through her body as it visibly relaxed.

Lace knew full well she wasn’t going to keep her word. She just didn’t want an argument, and especially not what they usually led to. At least making her promise to change helped with the guilt.

Maybe if I became an apprentice, I could get her the help she needed. They have healing Heroes there. Until then…

It was all on her to see her mother through it. The guards didn’t care much about some raving madwoman who couldn’t hold her love potion. Neither did the neighbors, as half of them were on the stuff anyway.

Mom counted out the money. When she got to the last one, a deep frown wrinkled her forehead.

“Twenty-five,” she said.

“What?” Lace asked.

“Twenty-five. This isn’t your full pay. You usually bring me thirty.”

Lace strained to come up with a lie.

“Avon was just short,” she said. “He said he’d pay me back next week.”

Mom clutched the coins. Her mouth drew into a thin, tight line.

“Lace. Don’t lie to me. I know you have more. Give me the rest of it.”

Lace turned out her pockets. “I don’t have anything! I swear! I just… can’t you make do with that for now? I’ll get the money for next week.”

Mom regarded her for a long moment. She sighed, her chest deflating as she hunched over. “Fine.”

Thank the Creator.

She glanced over to the side and her frown returned. “What’s that?”

“What?” Lace looked around and saw nothing.

“That floorboard. The nails have been taken out.”

Lace froze.

Mom scrambled to the floor and dug at the loose plank with her nails. Lace got behind her and restrained her arms, but she fought with every ounce of strength her emaciated body could muster.

“Mom, please—”

She whipped her head back and took Lace in the jaw. She lost her grip and stumbled back. Mom got the floorboard off and grabbed the heavy purse below. She drew it out and stared at the coppers, a soothed smile pulling at her lips.

“No!” Lace shouted. “Put that back!”

The shutters flew open with loud bangs. The wind howled in through the open windows and tore at her clothes, screeching like an army of unsettled souls.

“You ruin everything, don’t you?” Lace shouted. “I’m the one who has to hold it all together for you, and what do I get? You take everything I ever valued and trade it off for whatever high you’re chasing!”

She raised her hands. Mom slid across the floor. She stumbled and fell on her back.

“I won’t let you have it. Not this time. You loathsome, pitiful creature.”

Mom looked up. For an instant, just a second, that dazed smile faded off her face. Some measure of control returned to her features, and she regarded Lace with a forlorn stare.

Heroes don’t seek fights. They end them. They don’t hit first. They stop the blow that would strike someone else. Dad’s words. They came to her, unbidden, floating at the corners of her mind.

The wind died out.

Lace looked down at her hands. Creator, help me. What kind of wretched mongrel would lay hands on her own sick mother?

“I… I’m sorry,” Lace said. “I don’t know what came over me. Please, let’s talk.”

Mom ran for the door. She pushed past Lace and shouldered through the door, taking splinters up her arms. Clutching the purse like a precious child, Lace watched her mother escape in the early hours of dawn.

Lace didn’t have the heart to go after her. She said a numb prayer and settled back into her corner.