“Maya?” I called out from the front door to the cottage, listening out for the sound of my daughter. Her owl had been rushed, worried and barely legible. Ignan would have said it was a family trait but I knew better. My little girl was distraught about something and she’d owled for me to come home; to our home that I’d moved out of months before for space. What had happened, I had no idea but if this was to ask me for money again I knew I’d swing for the girl.

The sound of movement in the living room pulled me in that direction.

When I saw her, my heart very nearly broke. My little girl was crumpled on the floor against the armchair. Tanned arms were wrapped around her knees, pulled tightly into her chest. My eyes remained frozen on her face when she looked up. She’d been crying for hours, her eyes puffy, skin red and blotchy. Strands of long dark hair clung to her wet skin.

My mind began to race as I stood unmoving. Had she been attacked? I saw no marks, no bruises or scratched. Had Bug done something?
“Sweetheart, what’s…” When I realised, I felt my stomach sink and my knees grew weak. Where was she? Where was my granddaughter?
“Katrine?” My voice broke with panic as my eyes left my daughter to seek out the granddaughter I’d not wanted.
“In her cot.” Maya eased my panic with a shaky voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “Oh mum!” The very thought made the girl break down again, bursting into racking sobs as she threw her head into her hands. I was at her side immediately, crouched on the floor with my arms around her as she leaned into my chest, dampening my blouse with hot tears.

I let her stay like that for a moment, my hand smoothing her hair down the way I had when she’d been a child, falling and scraping her knees, when she’d ventured down into the reserve at our home in Norway, determined to find Jon, to prove to her father she could handle a few dragons. I’d held her like this after telling her that her father wouldn’t be home again. I’d held her close, never willing to let her go.

Yet this time I needed to know what had happened to cause my 22 year old daughter to fall to pieces on the floor in our living room.
I found myself leaning down, pressing my cheek against her head.
“What’s happened, Maya?”
“He’s gone, Ma.” Her voice was weak, shaky with tears as she made no attempt to calm down. I lifted my head to try and see her face but she kept it buried in my chest.

So Katrine was safe. I breathed a sigh of relief.
It appeared, in her heightened state of emotions, Maya heard it and her head snapped up away from me to stare with blood shot sore eyes. How could this tattooed thieving idiot have meant so much to my little girl? I wanted to tell her it was for the best. That she could find someone more suitable than a butcher with a tattoo on his face and a thousand lies on his tongue.

“How do you know?” My eyes searched her gaze, having let my arms drop when she’d pulled back.

“He’s taken all of his stuff. He’s left us.”

“Right.” I was struggling to process. Less so than my blubbing daughter but I couldn’t get my head around it. Bug had had a decent set up here. He had moved himself into my home, living with my daughter and granddaughter. I’d stupidly given them a steady flow of funds. I was the first to admit saying no to my only daughter was impossible for me. She’d always blamed me for Jon. As a 9 year old, Maya had seen her parents ripping each other apart. It didn’t matter how hard we’d tried, she’d seen the building hatred. My healers hadn’t been able to save her daddy. I had always been to blame.
And I had always felt it.

I knew Maya now played on it. As a child I’d given in to her, wanting to make my little girl happy despite losing her father. But now she knew how I felt. She knew I couldn’t say no and she’d used that to keep the cottage. I’d willingly helped her; willingly given her and Bug money to live comfortably. Ignan knew why I was living at his but I’d never tell him how much I gave the couple. He would probably think me a weak mother. Heck, I am a weak mother.

“Did you see him this morning?” Maya nodded
“I went out with Katrine. He…he was in bed.”
“And gone when you got back?”
“With everything.”
“Everything?”
Maya’s eyes flashed with something I had seen countless times. Her despair was suddenly mixed with a building anger at one single word I’d asked. Since meeting Bug for the first time I hadn’t kept my opinions a secret. His tattooed head made him look like a thug and he’d needed a good wash.  He’d had sticky fingers and I’d warned my daughter over and over again. Now I had my chance to tell her that I’d told her so. However, all I wanted to know was how much more he’d possibly stolen from the house before he’d left.

“He isn’t a thief, Mum.” I couldn’t help but wonder if that sentence was more suitable in the past tense.
“Okay.” I appeased, “Do you want me to stay tonight?”

“You don’t seem surprised.” The rebuke came, the shaky voice laced with suspicion. “I don’t want to hear your snide remarks tonight, Ma.” Her attempts to sound angry with me failed when her voice still cracked with emotion.

“Oh sweetheart.” I was acutely aware that I didn’t sound shocked. I didn’t sound angry about the boy abandoning my daughter. In fact, the only emotion in my voice was sympathy. I felt sorry for her. But she would forget him soon enough.

Staring at Maya for a moment, I shook my head. I wasn’t surprised. I’d been waiting for this day.
“He was bad news.”

Maya didn’t like this. She yanked her hand from mine.
“You never liked him.”
“I don’t like thieves.”
“You hated him. You wanted him gone. You even said it.”
“Watch what you’re saying.” My voice was steady as I regarded her carefully. Frustrated, she pushed herself to her feet and stood. “Where are you going?”

“Go back to your boyfriend, Mum. Stay out of my life.” Like hundreds of times before she lost her temper and stormed away from me. I didn’t move. I sat on the floor, frustrated that yet another time I was being blamed for something I’d predicted.

But had I predicted it?

As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I wondered.
I’d asked for it.
On the 18th of September I’d told Ignan I wanted Bug gone.
Less than a month later the deed had been done.

Ignan had come through for me.