My father and I returned to silence as we stared at Ruby Balian, him in shock and awe, me in steaming dissatisfaction.
The biggest gift Kan had given me so far, besides the key to all his wealth and power, was this: preserving my mother’s body.
It was almost like she had never even died, and I often wondered if she could perhaps be resuscitated with an oxygen mask.
But she was dead.
She was brain-dead by the fifth day when we brought her here.
I did not doubt that Kan had done this for other reasons, to preserve the evidence that would finally take the Tuckers and Turners down, and also to make the pain fresh for me.
It would have been difficult enough to let go if she was buried or cremated, but seeing her here like this kept the flame burning hotter in my heart.
And I did not
