understand all of it if you'd let me.”
“There's no letting, Ethan. I can't explain it.”
“Let me see it.” I held out my hand for her notebook.
She raised an eyebrow, handing it to me. “You won't be able to read it.”
I opened it and looked at it. I didn't know if it was Lena, or the book itself, but the words appeared on the page in front of me slowly, one at a time. It wasn't one of Lena's poems, and it wasn't song lyrics. There weren't many words, just strange drawings, shapes and swirls snaking up and down the page like some collection of tribal designs.
At the bottom of the page, there was a list.
what i remember
mother
ethan
macon
hunting
the fire
the wind
the rain
the crypt
the me who is not me
the me who would kill
two bodies
the rain
the book
the ring
amma's charm
the moon
Lena grabbed the book out of my hand. There were a few more lines on the page, but I never got to read them. “Stop it!”
I looked at her. “What was that?”
“Nothing, it's private. You shouldn't have been able to see that.”
“Then why could I?”
“I must have done the
Verbum Celatum
Cast wrong. The Hidden Word.” She looked at me anxiously, her eyes softening. “It doesn't matter. I was trying to remember that night. The night Macon … disappeared.”
“Died, L. The night Macon died.”
“I know he died. Of course he died. I just don't feel like talking about it.”
“I know you're probably depressed. It's normal.”
“What?”
“It's the next stage.”
Lena's eyes flashed. “I know your mom died, and my uncle died. But I have my own stages of grief. This isn't my feelings journal. I'm not your dad, and I'm not you, Ethan. We aren't as much alike as you think.”
We looked at each other in a way we hadn't in a long time, maybe ever. There was a nameless moment. I realized we'd been speaking out loud since I got there, without Kelting a word. For the first time, I didn't know what she was thinking, and it was pretty clear she didn't know how I felt either.
But then she did. She held out her arms and drew me into them because, for the first time, I was the one who was crying.
When I got home, all the lights were out, but I still didn't go inside. I sat down on the porch and watched the fireflies blinkingin the dark. I didn't want to see anyone. I wanted to think, and I had a feeling Lena wouldn't be listening. There's something about sitting alone in the dark that reminds you how big the world really is, and how far apart we all are. The stars look like they're so close, you could reach out and touch them. But you can't. Sometimes things look a lot closer than they are.
I stared into the darkness for so long that I thought I saw something move by the old oak in our front yard. For a second, my pulse quickened. Most people in Gatlin didn't even lock their doors, but I knew there were plenty of things that could get past a deadbolt. I saw the air shift again, almost imperceptibly, like a heat wave. I realized it wasn't something trying to break into my house. It was something that had broken out from another one.
Lucille, the Sisters’ cat. I could see her blue eyes shining in the darkness as she stalked onto the porch.
“I told everyone you'd find your way back to the house sooner or later. You just found the wrong house.” Lucille cocked her head to the side. “You know the Sisters are never gonna let you off that clothesline again after this.”
Lucille stared back at me as if she understood perfectly. As if she had known the consequences when she took off but, for whatever reason, she left anyway. A firefly blinked in front of me, and Lucille leaped off the step.
It flew higher, but that dumb cat kept reaching for it. She didn't seem to know how far away it really was. Like the stars. Like a lot of things.
The Girl of My Dreams
D arkness.
I couldn't see a thing, but I could feel the air draining out of my lungs. I couldn't breathe. The air was filled with
L. J. Sellers
Wesley Ellis
Ann Lethbridge
Kelly Martin
Jackie Ashenden
J.J. Murray
M.Z. Kelly
Nalini Singh
Timothy Zahn
Maureen Tan