Dare looks at me now, his dark eyes serious. “You’d better get back to the house. They’re going to know you’re gone. Jones is probably on the phone right now with Eleanor.”
I lift my nose in the air.
“I’m not afraid of her.”
He laughs, unconvinced. “Really?”
He knows better than that. Everyone is afraid of her. People say my grandfather died because he wanted to… to get away from her.
“I’m not going to leave you alone,” I tell him quietly, resolute.
His eyes waver for a minute, because I know that I’m one of only two people in the entire world who would risk Eleanor’s wrath for him. And I’m the only person in the world who risked it to be here with him today.
“It’s ok. I’m fine here,” he tells me, and his tone is strong, and his heart is brave. This is why I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him because he’s strong, because he’s rebellious, because he’s so serious and sweet and because he lives free now. He lives free even if no one knows it yet but me.
“When will they let you come home?” I ask hesitantly, because even now, I know that I have to go. Finn’s probably beside himself. They’re probably combing the estate for me, and once Jones calls them… all is lost. They won’t let me out of their sight again for a month.
“Probably tomorrow,” he promises, and for a split second, there’s warmth there, in his tone, in his eyes. He looks at me and he sees me. No one else does… no one but Finn.
Everyone else sees who I could be.
Who I might be.
Who I should be.
They don’t see who I am.
But Finn does. And Dare does.
It makes me feel closer to them than anyone else in the world.
“Go,” Dare urges me. His phone is ringing and I know who it is. I know it before he even answers it.
“She was here,” he confirms into the mouthpiece. “But she’s on her way home now. I wanted her to come. It was my fault.” His eyes burn into mine, and I shake my head because why is he taking the blame? He’s protecting me yet again.
He nods to me, toward the door, his attention still with Eleanor who I know is on the other end of that call.
Go, he mouths to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Reluctantly, I make my feet move away from him.
I don’t want to leave him alone, because I know what alone feels like.
But I have no choice. If I don’t, they’ll come get me, because we’re all prisoners. Prisoners of expectations, prisoners of responsibility, prisoners of life.
But someday… I’ll live free, just like Dare.
I don’t even glance at Jones when he opens my car door.
“I know you called them,” I grumble.
“You lied to me,” he says quietly as he climbs into the front. I don’t have an answer to that. Because it’s true. I did lie.
When I get back to Whitley, everyone is so relieved, everyone but Finn. After dinner, he glares at me when we’re in the privacy of the empty library.
“You could’ve told me,” he says stiffly. “I would’ve gone with you. I care about him, too.”
Not like me, you don’t. But obviously I don’t say that. Finn made his opinion known long ago and he’s said it many times since. You can’t love Dare. But he’s wrong. I can, and I do.
“I didn’t want you to get in trouble,” I tell him, which is only partially true. I wanted to see Dare alone.
Finn doesn’t believe me because he knows me. He knows me better than anyone. When he walks me back to my room, he touches my elbow at my door.
“You’ve got to behave. Eleanor will talk mom into leaving you here with Sabine all year long. Or worse. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not,” I say quickly, because the idea of being separated from Finn makes my heart constrict and pound in terror. But at the same time, the idea of being here with Dare makes it soar.
I’m a contradiction, an endless, endless contradiction.
Finn is pacified and we say goodnight and he sleeps in his own room tonight, because he doesn’t know how unsettled I am, and how I don’t know why.
I can’t settle in, and I can’t settle down.
My blood is rush, rush, rushing through my veins, through my heart, pounding through my temples, and my feet itch to run, run, run away… down the halls, out the doors and away from this house.
But of course I don’t.
I stay glued to my bed like I’m tied down, like the invisible manacles are real. I ignore my racing thoughts and twitching fingers.
It’s a few minutes later when the screaming starts, echoing down the hallways and through the night, and I get goose-bumps because I have a startling realization.
Dare is in the hospital, not here.
The screaming has never been his.
I’m confused, shocked, unsettled.
I focus on the wailing, on the shrieks, and I ponder life here at Whitley. Nothing is what it seems, I guess. I’m not sure who I can trust, who I can’t.
The screams finally dwindle, then die out, and I’m able to relax, my muscles sinking into my sheets.
Nothing is what it seems, and I know nothing.
All I know for sure is that Dare is an outcast, frowned upon by everyone, and I hate that. It’s unfair. If I could change that, I would. Because Dare deserves the moon and the stars and everything in between.
Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll somehow figure out a way to change it.
I fall asleep with my teeth gritted together. I relax my body, and focus on Dare. I focus on what the family would be like if he hadn’t been born into it, if he was safe somewhere else.
I love him enough to want that for him, even if it means he’d be gone from me.
The thought of being apart from him breaks my heart into jagged shards, but the thought of him laughing and running through a loving home, a home where he is appreciated, puts the shards back together.
He deserves that.
He does.
* * *
When I wake in the morning, I eye everyone with suspicion at breakfast.
I’ve always thought Dare was screaming, that Richard was hurting him in the night, that everyone was closing their eyes to it, turning their backs on what was happening.
But if that’s not the case, and thank God, then what is happening here?
My mother quietly picks at her breakfast and I shove my food around my plate, ignoring Finn’s concerned stares and my grandmother’s coldness.
My grandmother’s fingers are like spiders, long and thin, as they curl around her water glass. Her eyes are steel as she looks at me over the rim. I look away. At the wall, at the table, at my own arm. At anything but her cold eyes.
I trace the outline of the vein on my wrist as it throbs against my skin, my life’s blood pulse, pulse, pulsing through me. The blood is blue, the blood is red, the blood is mine. I stare at the skin, at the bump, at the vein. It bends with my arm, it caves when I move, it--
“Calla?”
My mother interrupts my thoughts and I yank my attention from my arm to my mother.
“Yes?”
“Don’t stray too far today,” she instructs, and something is troubled on her face. Something disturbs her perfect features.
Something.
Something.
What is it?
“Will Jones pick up Dare today?” I ask her as she sets her glass on the table. My mother clears her throat a little and Eleanor is still.
My grandmother stares pointedly at me and my heart speeds up. Why aren’t they answering?
“You should rest today, Calla,” Eleanor finally answers, without acknowledging my question. My mother clears her throat again, a small and strange sound. It causes the hackles to rise on my neck, because something is
wrong
wrong
wrong.
“Is Dare coming home today?” I ask
again, more firmly this time, and this time directed at my mother. She stares at her eggs for a long time before meeting my gaze.
“You need to rest today, my love. You’ve been wearing yourself out.”
Her face is expressionless and odd, and panic starts to rise in me like a wave, a wave that threatens to overtake me and pull me under.
“I’m fine,” I manage to utter. “I’m fine.”
My mother nods and Finn reaches for my hand beneath the table. He squeezes my fingers lightly, then harder. Our silent signal to let things drop. He wants me to let it…Dare?...drop.
No.
Never.
I turn to my grandmother. “Will Dare be here for dinner?”
Finn is squeezing my fingers hard enough to cut off circulation, but I ignore it. I focus on the faces in this room, the treacherous, treacherous faces.
I can hear shoes scraping on the floor, silver scratching porcelain plates, light breathing. I count my breaths.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Just before my sixth, Eleanor abruptly pushes her chair away from the table and walks for the door.
“You’re disturbed, child,” she quietly says as she passes. “Go to your room and I’ll send Sabine.”
My mother looks away and Finn squeezes and I have a terrible dark feeling sitting on my chest.
“But why?” I call out after her because clearly she is the only one who will answer.
She doesn’t. Silence follows her and descends upon the dining room and everyone seals their lips and I’m terrified.
Where is Dare?
I rise from my chair, but my chest constricts. Tight, tighter, tightest. I can’t breatheIcan’tbreatheIcan’tbreathe. I tumble to the floor and the anchor the albatross the stone …. They all sit on my chest and break it, and crush it and hold me down. I’m crushed to the floor, my heart hurts and I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
Finn’s face swirls in front of mine.
“Calla, breathe,” he instructs, his hand on mine, his blue eyes filled with worry. “Breathe.”
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
“Finn,” I whisper. But that’s all I can do, all I can say, all I can plead.
Something is wrong here.
Something.
Something.
Something.
Everything.
I can feel it.
Then I feel nothing because everything fades away.
When I wake, I’m in my room alone. It’s dark outside, early morning. I’ve been sleeping all day and all night, probably a product of Sabine’s herbs. I stir, rub my bleary eyes and finally sit.
I’m alone.
Dare.
Dare.
My memories of this morning erupt like a volcano in my head and I lurch for the phone. I call the operator and ask to be connected to the hospital because I obviously don’t know the number.
When someone answers, I stumble with my words.
“Yes, can you connect me to Dare DuBray’s room, please?”
“Just a moment.” The woman’s voice is perfunctory, but I feel relieved. Just a moment. I’ll hear his voice in a moment. Thank God. They can’t keep me from him. No one can.
I wait.
And wait.
And then the perfunctory woman is back.
“What was the name again, miss?”
“Adair DuBray,” I tell her tightly.
There is a pause and clicking on a computer.
“We don’t have a patient by that name,” she tells me.
“Was he discharged?” I ask hopefully. “He was there yesterday for an infection. He got a tattoo and…”
“Miss, we haven’t had a patient by that name. Not yesterday, not ever. He’s not in our system. He wasn’t here.”
“That’s a mistake,” I whisper, but she’s resolute.
“There’s no mistake, miss.”
Numbness descends like a fog and I replace the phone on the table.
He was there. I saw him. I stood by him, I yearned to hold his hand, and his back says LIVE FREE. I know that.
Confusion jumbles in my head, which is nothing unusual. I’m always confused, but I’ve never been confused about Dare.
Where is he?
What is real?
“What is wrong with you?” Finn hisses at breakfast, his fingers pressing into my knee to get my attention. I shake my head.
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying,” he accuses, and as usual, he’s right about me.
He always is.
I know what he’s thinking.
I can’t take care of myself. I’m an invalid. I’m crazy.
I nod to reassure him. “I’m okay.”
He nods back, but he’s unconvinced.
It doesn’t matter though.
“I’m going to sketch today,” I tell him. “The grounds, the garden. Wherever the wind takes me.”
“I’ll come with you,” Finn says quickly, his hand already on mine because he doesn’t trust the wind, or anything else with me. But I shake my head.
“No. I’d like some quiet time.”
I want to fill my lungs up with the breeze, I want to be a hollow reed, absorbing the world, sucking it down, figuring it out.
I level a gaze at Finn and he stares back, and finally, he acquiesces.
“Ok. If you need me, just shout.”
I nod, knowing full well that he can’t hear me from across the grounds.
I grab a notebook and a pencil, then I make my way quietly outside, feeling Finn’s gaze between my shoulder blades with every step.
I walk away from the Savage house, from the Savage lawns, from the Savages. I walk to the gardens, where it is serene and quiet, where I feel Dare’s presence, even when he isn’t here.
I sit beside the bubbling brook, dipping my feet in the cool water as I watch it pass over the stones, polishing them.
My mind floats away, carried on the breeze.
Dare’s absence consumes me. How can someone simply be gone?
Eleanor is so stern, so rigid. She can make anyone disappear. I believe that. She has power and money and hatred.
A lot of hatred.
“See? You can change things.” The boy in the hood is suddenly next to me, and his presence makes me jump. “But you’re not the only one.”
I stare at him, at the black void where his face should be. I reach out to pull his hood down, to reveal his face, but he stops me with his hand.
“You’re going to have to focus.”
“Focus?”
He nods, and his hands are on mine, and his fingers somehow make me so very very tired, like he’s leeching my energy away with his mere touch. I want to put my head down and sleep, I want to close my eyes, close my eyes, close my eyes… my eyelids flutter closed, and he yanks his hand away and the darkness the darkness the darkness overtakes me and the sleep coming in waves.
But
Then
A
Voice
pulls me from the dark.
“Calla.”
The voice is thin, transparent.
It’s also familiar.
Dare.
I snap to attention, opening my eyes, scanning the area, but I don’t see him.
“Dare,” I call out hopefully.
Am I hearing things?
“I’m here,” he says, and he sounds so far away.
I spin around and he’s behind me, but something seems off and I can’t put my finger on it, and I peer into the air and I’m crazy.
“You’re not crazy,” he tells me quickly, reading my expression. “I’m here.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, and he strides to me. When he reaches me, he drops to his knees. I reach out a finger and touch him, and he’s real. His shoulder is sinewy and warm.
“You’ve grown up,” he says, and that’s not what I expected to hear, because he saw me
yesterday and didn’t mention it.
“You’ve disappeared,” I tell him, and he smirks.
“I haven’t.”
“Then why aren’t you in the house? Why are you out here? Why is everyone acting like you don’t exist?”
My questions are nonsense, just like this situation.
He smiles and he’s sad. I can see it in his eyes,
His
Dark
Dark
Eyes.
“Are you real?” I ask calmly, as calm as I can.
“As real as you are,” he answers.
“Am I real?”
He stares at me, his gaze level.
“If you aren’t, then we’re both crazy.”
I can’t rule that out, because Whitley has secrets, and I don’t understand any of it. And when I’m confused, I babble.
“I never know what is real,” I tell him, and then I launch into my life story. I tell him everything, how Finn died but it turns out he didn’t, how my gym teacher died, but didn’t, how I see demons and black-eyed beings, how the moors growl at me, and how I’m always afraid to ask about reality. I tell him all the things that I’ve always been afraid to tell anyone but Finn, and I even tell him about the hooded boy.
“So basically, I’m always scared,” I finish, and Dare actually takes my hand. He reaches over, encloses my fingers within his own, and my heart threatens to pound right out of my chest.
His hand is warm and his eyes are soft.
“Don’t be afraid,” he tells me. “We’ll get this sorted.”
What a British thing to say. I tell him so, and he smiles.
“That’s the meanest thing you’ve said to me all day.”
He looks around me, still smiling, and whistles to the wind, beckoning it. He waits, then whistles again.
“Where are the dogs?” he asks me, confused. “Castor never leaves your side.”
Now I’m the confused one.
“What dogs? Who is Castor?”
He stares at me, his dark head cocked. “You’re not being serious. Right?”
I stare back, every bit as confused as he is.