Marked

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and for a six-year-old with a pink teddy bear tucked under one arm, the world was a playground. I skipped along the cobblestones, my tongue poking out in concentration as I made sure to jump over every single crack. Step on a crack, break your mother’s back, the old rhyme went, and I wasn't about to take any chances.

“Careful, Octavia,” my mother, Odette, whispered.

I looked up, my giggles dying down when I felt the frantic squeeze of her hand. Her knuckles were white, and her blue eyes—the same shade as mine—darted back and forth across the street like she was expecting the shadows to grow teeth and snap at us. We weren't skipping anymore; she was practically dragging me toward a massive, daunting structure of gray stone.

In front of the building stood two magnificent statues. They were carved from dark rock, scales glistening in the afternoon light, their wings unfurled as if they might take flight at any moment.

“Ooo, Mommy, look! A dragon!” I chirped, pointing a sticky finger at the snarling stone beast.

Mother didn’t slow down, but a small, sad smile flickered across her face. “Yes, Octavia, that’s a dragon.” Her voice trembled, a thin vibration I felt through her palm. “They exist in this world, my love... but they stay away from towns. They like the quiet places.”

I beamed, my imagination instantly filling with images of giant, shimmering lizards soaring over the mountains. I wanted to ask if they breathed real fire, but we had reached the entrance. The wooden doors were gargantuan, bound in iron, and they let out a long, haunting creak as Mother pushed them open.

Inside, the air was cool and smelled of old paper and beeswax. Mother led me to a high-backed velvet chair in the corner of the foyer and crouched down until we were eye level. She placed my pink teddy bear in my lap, her hands shaking as she smoothed my dark brown hair.

“Hey, princess... I need to go speak with that gentleman over there. You stay seated right here, alright? Don’t move.”

I nodded solemnly, hugging my bear. She walked a few yards away to a man standing by a desk. He was tall, with graying hair and a face that looked like it was made of the same tired stone as the building. Jeremiah. I’d seen him before, but never when Mother looked this scared.

They whispered, but the hall was so quiet their words carried like smoke.

“Jeremiah, please, you have to help me,” Mother pleaded, her voice thick with a terror that made the hair on my arms stand up. “Cooper found me. He knows I’m here in Oakhaven. He knows about Octavia.”

Jeremiah let out a long, heavy sigh. He glanced over his shoulder at me—a quick, pitying look—before turning back to her. “Odette... you aren’t going to like my suggestion. But if Cooper is truly after the girl and not you... maybe it would be best if you let me send her away.”

“What?” Mother’s voice rose, cracking.

“Take her to a new town,” Jeremiah continued urgently. “A loving family will adopt her. If she’s gone when he arrives, you can tell him whatever lie you want. He won't have a trail to follow.”

“Jeremiah, she is my little girl!” Mother sobbed, the sound echoing off the high ceiling. I flinched, digging my fingers into my teddy bear’s fur. “You can’t possibly tell me that giving her away is a good idea.”

“Odette, listen to me,” Jeremiah hissed. “There are ways to keep this under the table. No records, no paper trail. If she stays with you, he finds her. If she goes now, Cooper won’t be able to find her. Ever.”

Mother covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with violent sobs. I couldn't stand it anymore. A small, broken whine escaped my throat, and the sound cut through their argument like a knife.

Mother was at my side in an instant. She threw her arms around me, pulling me into a grip so tight it was hard to breathe, but I didn't care. I buried my face in her neck, smelling her lavender perfume and the salt of her tears.

“Mommy?” I asked, my voice small and frightened.

She pulled back, her hands gripping my upper arms. Her eyes were red-rimmed and desperate. “Octavia, honey... I need you to listen to me carefully, okay? Mommy needs to... to handle some things. Important things. So I need you to go stay with another family for a little while.”

The world seemed to tilt. My stomach dropped as if I’d fallen off a swing set. “No, Mommy! No! I want to stay with you!” I screamed, the panic finally bubbling over. I didn't understand who Cooper was or why we were in this cold building, but I knew what "away" meant.

“Octavia, I know,” she whispered, her voice breaking with every syllable. “I know, princess. I’m so sorry. But I have to keep you safe. This is the only way.”

I sobbed into her shoulder, my small fingers locking behind her neck. I wouldn't let go. If I held on tight enough, she couldn't leave. Jeremiah stepped closer, his shadow falling over both of us.

“Octavia, look at me,” Mother said firmly, forcing me to meet her gaze. Her expression was suddenly fierce, the fear replaced by a desperate, haunting intensity. “If ever in your life a man named Cooper—or even just a man who claims to be your father—approaches you, you run. Do you hear me? You run as fast as your legs will take you.”

I blinked through my tears. A father? I didn't have one of those.

“If you think you’re being followed, assume it’s him,” she warned, her voice a ghost of a whisper. “Whatever you do, never let him near you.”

“Come with me,” I begged, my voice a ragged whisper. “Please, Mommy, come too.”

She shook her head, a single tear falling onto my cheek as she kissed my forehead one last time. “I can’t.”

Suddenly, Jeremiah’s large, calloused hands were under my arms. He pulled me away from her. The separation felt like being torn in half. I kicked my legs, my shoes thudding against his shins, and let out a raw, jagged scream that hurt my throat.

“Jeremiah, please,” Mother sobbed, her knees finally giving out as she collapsed onto the stone floor. “Make sure she ends up with a loving family. Make sure they cherish her.”

“Mommy! No! Let me go!” I shrieked, hitting Jeremiah’s chest, but he was like a mountain. He didn't budge, only grunting in pain as I caught him with a particularly hard kick.

“Octavia!” Mother called out one last time as she crawled toward the heavy wooden doors, her strength spent. “I will find you! I promise!”

The big doors groaned shut, cutting off the sight of her crumpled form on the floor. Jeremiah turned, carrying me toward a small, nondescript back door that led to an alleyway where a carriage was waiting.

The adrenaline left me all at once, replaced by a cold, hollow ache. My screaming faded into rhythmic, hitching sobs. I went limp in his arms, resting my tear-stained face on his shoulder. As the carriage door closed and the wheels began to churn against the dirt, the image of the stone dragons flashed in my mind.

Mother said they stayed away from towns because they liked the quiet. I wished I was a dragon. I wished I could fly back over the walls, back to the sidewalk, back to the cracks I was so careful not to step on. But as Oakhaven vanished behind us, I knew the little girl who jumped over cracks was gone forever.