One month and twenty-three days, and Lilah’d had enough. She grabbed hold of another peg and made the mistake of looking down to the very sound drop below.

Big Henry.

This building wasn’t the first to bear that name, and like its predecessor from the underground, it was designed to be climbed from outside, for whatever stupid reason.

And as that elevator no longer worked, Lilah climbed it per its design, much like a petty criminal. It took a lot longer than she expected and the air grew thin the higher she got.

The madness that fueled her on this insane journey played tricks on her—a time or two she felt she was being reasonable. That was a lie.

Here and there, various safety nets came into view.

In theory, she supposed someone could jump from one to the other again and again in the face of an emergency. Miss one, though....

She looked down at the drop yet again and sucked in a deep breath. She wasn’t going to plummet. In fact, a direct fall might be fine. A fall from the edge or corner of the building was a steady drop.

No. She’d go down in that elevator. There was no need to think of such morbid things. Her life nearly ended when she finally reached the top only for a hover bike to zip by, missing her by fractions. She ducked in time. The last of her father’s blue hair faded into the night as he descended.

Finding the energy to drag herself over the balcony was no easy feat, but Lilah managed it eventually, gasping, her body burning from the fatigue.

Fists clenched and more than enough colorful words at the ready, she marched to those glass doors.

They were locked.

Lilah tried again, and yet again to no avail. They were locked. After climbing so far—and trying so hard—her efforts faded...with a fucking door.

One gentle tug made her cry out and she slammed her fist against the glass with a sob.

Someone slid the curtain aside. The older DeGrasse regarded her in sadness and looked over her shoulder. She said nothing as she slipped out rather than open the door wide.

“What are you doing here, little one? You’ll cause your mother to be upset. The last time lasted for days,” she whispered.

Mother. That was something Lilah had yet to contend with. What type of mother allowed her children to mourn her?

“So she still considers herself a mother?” Lilah asked. “Because I want to speak to her.”

The look on the woman’s face wasn’t one Lilah could say she’d seen often in life—it held disgust. DeGrasse’s mother closed the door and used her body to guard against entry.

Lilah waited. And when it became clear she was expected to make her way back down again outside this building, she teared up.

“I have a right to see her.”

“But that is the issue,” DeGrasse’s mother replied, “you cannot see her.”

“Stop saying that. They are my parents and I want them back. How can they just shut away? We have a right—”

“There are no rights here, and that is the issue.” DeGrasse calmed her breathing as she confessed. “I gave birth to a daughter and she was killed. In an act of desperation, I begged a poacher to cut my hair. All Elementals created from pure power like that need an actual body—a fresh one. We call those Elementals seedlings. But someone tampered with her abilities as a baby as a way to punish me. I could not raise her, and she grew to hate me.”

Her words left Lilah feeling numb. She searched for some of the energy and venom she’d arrived with.

“And now she’s not only died with a sliver of a chance at rebirth, but she’s come back into a strong body, a whole new world, a whole new life and with me as a confidant. Dear, having you throw careless words around like an infant is far too dangerous.”

Lilah found herself trembling. All the way up here, she didn’t have to contend with the madness down below. Up here, her parents lived, albeit differently from before. Up here she almost expected to find Lander sitting on a sofa with Gwen beside him showing off her new wig.

No. She didn’t expect to find them here, but hell, she didn’t expect to find anyone at all. Not this ancient Elemental granny who looked nearly her own age and sure as hell not a young, carefree mother where her dying one once was. And to be rejected by this person—the person she most admired....

But if this miracle could happen, then it was okay to dream, at least for the journey, that things could be normal again.

Lilah shed a tear. It wasn’t one that she’d expected.

“Oh, child.... You must go back down.”

“I can’t,” Lilah wept. “I’m afraid of heights. It took me twice as long to climb this.”

The door opened and a slender body stepped out. “Mother,” Degrasse said. “It’s all right. I’ll talk to her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please wait inside. Gus-Gus is still pretty upset.”

Lilah’s breath hitched. Sure enough, the older Elemental opened the door too wide, revealing Gus with his hands to his face.

The next tear came with a stifled shriek as Lilah tried to remember her upbringing and manners.

“Why? Why is he here?” Lilah demanded. “Why him!”

DeGrasse was careful to close the door. She approached with a march so strong Lilah cringed—preparing for a strike against her.

Despite the height difference—DeGrasse was short—the woman embraced Lilah who collapsed under the touch.

“I only want your time. Ten years waiting for a chance to talk to you—waiting for my turn and you won’t even see me.”

Sitting beside her, DeGrasse pulled her close. “I understand that you’re angry and upset, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. How could you have climbed all this way? What if you’d fallen?”

“Like you’d care.”

The small body holding hers hove a sigh. “Of course, I care. I simply cannot take care of you right now. Not with my chance shaky, too. Don’t let this young face fool you. I won’t have another lifetime. We’ve got twenty years if we’re lucky.”

Lilah leaned back to meet her gaze. “What does that mean?”

The somber brown eyes held affection as DeGrasse confessed, “Your father gave me some of his life-force to give me youth, and...some ability, but it cut the remainder of his in half. Outer appearances don’t take away from reality, darling. We are both in our fifties. Seventy is a good number, we decided.”

Somewhere in the nonsense she spewed, Lilah’s world shattered. Elementals lived long—they aged and died, but they did live long. Some estimated two hundred years wasn’t inconceivable.

“Are you telling me...not only did he give raw life-force for ten years keeping the old you alive, but you’ve taken what’s left?”

DeGrasse’s hopeful expression faded. “Yes. Of course, you’d put it so nicely.”

Lilah let out a gasp. “And is that fair?”

The grip around her loosened and Lilah regretted speaking her mind. DeGrasse...Lilah’s...Lilah’s mother shed a tear.

“No. I don’t know that it’s fair,” she admitted. “We’re still working through that. But short of taking the life-force back and letting me work through some illnesses of my own, there isn’t much we can do. My hair was cut at birth. I have no power short of light intuition. And I lived a hard life.”

Lilah thought to hold on again, but DeGrasse let go and stood. In that instance, a great rush of shame filled Lilah so strongly she wanted to vomit. Her father had given everything he could for this chance, and it was one they’d fought and prayed for. Now Lilah brought that into question. That was what was truly unfair.

Tears fell from DeGrasse’s eyes and it was the first time Lilah’d ever seen this person shed them. The Lee she knew was tough as nails. Lee never threw fits or got overly emotional. But then...neither did Lilah and she knew that to be a lie. Lilah kept herself in check in the company of others, even her own family, but there were days she wanted to blow up.

As proud as Lee DeGrasse was, there was no mistaking the way she held her belly—almost fearful.

Lilah gasped. “No. You’re...you’re.... Are you honestly? That’s what you two’ve been doing up here while the rest of the city falls apart.”

DeGrasse slapped her. The sadness in her expression caught Lilah off guard.

“I don’t need your commentary or disgust. I have enough of my own. And I haven’t told him yet and I need to figure out how to do that, too. So before I fling you from this building and forget that I had a hand in raising you, how about you do me the courtesy of going right back down the same way you came up.”

Lilah trembled. She wanted to take back those words. She wanted to grab the woman and ask for another embrace. She wanted to fall to her death from Big Henry at this point.

The door opened and Gus peered out with a smile. That smile grew when he saw Lilah but when he regarded DeGrasse and the fresh onset of tears, his expression turned solid.

He handed the radio over without saying a word. Instead, he stepped out, hugged DeGrasse close and kissed her brow. She patted his arm. A few minutes later, the front door opened and closed—Gus was gone.

“Lee?” the radio buzzed to life.

DeGrasse raised and lowered it again and again before finally sucking in a deep breath and forcing a smile. “Yes, darling?”

A long pause followed before Lilah’s father asked, “What kept you?”

“Now, darling,” DeGrasse said, “if you cannot trust me with a few moments of dead air, then how incapable do you think me?”

“Hey. I’m sorry. I just feel guilty leaving. Nobody’s seen Lilah but I’m still looking.”

DeGrasse turned to face Lilah again. “Oh. I’m sure you’ll find her. Stick around and she might just drop in.”

“Yes. I suppose.” Another bout of silence followed. “So are you alone?”

“As alone as I’ll ever be. Feelin’ pretty alone,” DeGrasse admitted.

“Where?”

“Out on the balcony.”

The chuckle came with a whisper, “So you liked doing it out there that much?”

DeGrasse’s eyes widened. Lilah found herself looking the pristine balcony over, praying he wasn’t saying what she thought he was.

“Um, well...you did make an impression.”

“Only because you were so enthusiastic. In fact, when I get back there. I’m going to....”

Click. DeGrasse shut the radio off. Face beet red, she turned to Lilah and said, “You have to go.”

Lilah wasn’t having it. “Not until we talk. We have so much to talk about.”

“Not right now. Not at this moment. We’ll get to it.”

“There’ll be time for me? When? After your mother dies? After you raise your new baby? When?”

“I don’t fucking know. But I do know your father’s coming back here when he realizes he’s dirty talking into a dead radio. So you need to go. There are two balconies and he always lands at the other one.”

Lilah didn’t appreciate the dismissal. “The same one you two—”

DeGrasse groaned. “Shut’dup.” As gentle as those words were, they held a genuine warning. “I’ve had it with hiding up here trying to figure out how to seek your approval. I’ve had it with not bringing up your name in conversation because I don’t want to argue about what this is doing to you. And I’ve had it with your judgement and childishness. I’m in a new body with power I can’t recognize, and I can’t navigate, and my biggest fear is that you’ll...you’ll shame me. And you do.”

Eyes misting, Lilah tried to respond. “I...I....”

“Just go.” An engine roared through the night and she gasped. “Shit.”

As small as DeGrasse was, her grip on Lilah’s arm was like a vice as she marched her to the railing.

“Go.”

Lilah held on. “No. No. Not until you talk to me. No.”

DeGrasse dipped low and hoisted Lilah over so quickly she barely caught hold in time.

Their eyes met. Lilah felt sorry. She wanted to apologize. All the more when DeGrasse held her stomach but let go again—Lilah’d caused that insecurity. “Please...I’ll try to do better,” she begged. “But please.”

Distant doors swung open. “Lee!”

DeGrasse pleaded as well. “Just be patient. I’m trying the best I can. None of this is going according to plan. Just please, please meet me halfway.”

The pain in her eyes was why Lilah ducked down when the doors opened.

“There you are.”

DeGrasse looked down at Lilah before spinning around to stop her husband’s approach.

“Did you worry?”

“Worry? I was scared as hell. That was a pretty dirty trick.”

“Well how else was I going to convince you to anoint this balcony as well?” DeGrasse said with a chuckle.

She reached back, searching the railing for Lilah’s hands.

Eyes wide, Lilah held on. One glance down at the drop and she stifled a yelp. Instead, she whispered, begged, “Mother, please....”

Slam, slam, two jabs from a hairpin sent Lilah plummeting. One net broke her fall, but she tumbled out of it and into the next, and the next as well. Twenty-six nets later, she flopped to the ground on her ass.

Gus waited there for her, a look of disapproval on his face. “When the hell do you plan to just grow up? That was supposed to be one of the best news I could give them, and you go and ruin it.”