The Last Piece of His Heart (Lost Boys 3)

“That’s very Bibi of her to tell you that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She ignored my sharp, protective tone or didn’t hear it. She wandered the patio, touching the delicate pink and purple fuchsias hanging in a pot from the corner of the pergola.

“Our ancestors fought in the Civil War. The First Louisiana Native Guard. Did you know that?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Uncle Rudy has a framed sketch of General Andre Cailloux on the wall of his study.”

Mama nodded. “My daddy—your grandpa—used to tell me the stories his grandpa told him. He said the Battle of Shiloh was one of the bloodiest of the war.”

“Was our family involved?”

“No. Black soldiers never fought in that battle, but the name stuck with me. Because deciding to keep you or not…that was a battle.”

The backyard was suddenly airless. Still.

“And?” I asked tightly. “Did you win, Mama. Or did you lose?”

She said nothing, but it was all there in that silence. In her eyes that couldn’t look at me. The ground under my feet swayed as if I were on a sinking ship; I gripped the back of a chair to keep from falling.

“Oh, Shiloh. I was nineteen. In love.” She scoffed weakly. “As if I knew what that was. I had a promising future ahead of me and I gave it up. For him. Biggest mistake of my life.”

I thought I was the biggest mistake of your life.

I nearly said the words, but she was so close to letting go of the truth, at long last. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. Mama’s eyes shone, her lips parted, she inhaled…and then she stepped back from the edge, stuffing it all back down.

“I shouldn’t have come,” she said, her voice steady again. Cold. “I’m not ready. Bibi knows that. It’s why I’m not welcome here.” She smiled ruefully. “She knows me better than I know myself.”

“What…no! Please, Mama.” I leaned over the chair, gripping it so hard the cold metal dug painfully into my fingers. “Keep talking to me. Who is he? My father…tell me—”

But it was too late. Only the patio table stood between us, but she may as well have been back on the other side of the country. On the other side of the world.

“You don’t have a father, Shiloh,” she said stiffly. “I lost the battle, but you’re the casualty and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She moved around the table and raised her hand to my cheek; her fingers were cold on my skin. “Nothing is your fault. Remember that. Not one thing. I only wish I were stronger. For your sake. I tried but…”

Her hand fell and she turned for the door.

“You’re leaving?” I stared, my breath coming hard. “You just got here. You haven’t told me anything. Only cryptic…bullshit.”

She acted as if she hadn’t heard me. At the patio door, she turned. “I’m not enough of a mother to give you advice. I haven’t earned it, but I’ll give it anyway. Be careful, Shiloh. Be very careful. Love will make you do stupid things.”

“Like me,” I said, my voice wavering. “I’m the stupid thing you did.”

She didn’t answer me but went into the house, leaving me alone on the patio, her silence the only reply.

The backyard blurred as if I were underwater. Slowly, I made my way inside. Bibi was on the couch, stroking one of the cats. Mama was already gone.

“What just happened?” I said.

“Oh, honey. Come sit.”

I sank down beside Bibi, staring at the door.

“What did she say to you, Shiloh? Did she…?”

“Tell me the truth? No.” I turned my head on a stiff neck. “You have to tell me, Bibi. Tell me everything you know.”

“I can’t—”