after being committed. It’s not you specifically. It’s about anything she perceives as a distraction.” I fidget under my covers. A lie shouldn’t be so easy to spin.
Jeb nods. “I’m not a distraction. I’m helping. I want you to succeed just as much as she does.”
“I know. She just doesn’t see it that way.”
“After my meeting with Ivy Raven tonight, I should have all the money we’ll need to get started in London. That will prove how much I want to help.”
My fingers jerk in his. So that’s why he shaved and dressed up. To make a good impression on his new heiress client. My mom’s warning of betrayal surfaces in my mind, but I push it down. I know I can trust Jeb. Still, I can’t seem to control what comes out of my mouth next.
“You’re going to leave me for work on the first night I’m awake?” I cringe at the neediness in my voice.
Jeb wraps my hair around his fingers. “Your mom made it clear I should be gone before she gets back. Ivy’s in town, so I’m going tomeet her and let her choose a painting. She’s not in the country very often. We have to take advantage while she’s here.”
“But it’s a holiday. Isn’t the gallery closed? Is Mr. Piero meeting you there?”
“He’s home with his family. He’s letting me use the showroom as a favor.”
My lips tighten. I don’t like him going alone, though I can’t put my finger on why. Maybe it’s my netherling side, because the emotion feels animalistic … feral. A dark and disorienting instinct that’s pecking away all of the trust we’ve forged over the past year.
Jeb’s mine.
Mine mine mine
.
A snarl tugs at my lips, but I suppress it. What’s wrong with me?
The stuffed clown flops to the floor with a metallic twang, and Jeb and I both jump.
“Huh,” Jeb says as he picks the toy up and rearranges it on the windowsill. He tugs at the oddly shaped hat. “There’s something metal under there. Must be top-heavy.”
“Who’s that from?” I ask.
“The guy who helped on Friday after I pulled you out. I was trying to get you to breathe, and he appeared out of nowhere … said he saw an ambulance going down the street and waved it down for us. My cell phone was lost in the flood. He got the help I couldn’t give you.”
There’s something about the clown. Apart from it looking distantly familiar … apart from it being bigger than the other toys. It almost appears alive. I keep waiting for it to move.
As it stares back at me, the shadows seem to change its expression—from a smile to an evil sneer. Even the cello in its hand can’t soften the image.
A cello.
My wariness kicks up another notch. That’s the one instrument that I know how to play. The one instrument I haven’t touched since last summer. How would a stranger know that about me?
Jeb said the guy appeared out of nowhere …
Trepidation knots in my throat. “What’s this person’s name?” I ask.
“I didn’t get it,” Jeb answers. “The card on the clown said, ‘Hope you’re feeling up to your old self soon.’ No signature. But we checked with everyone else and no one we know sent it. So it must’ve been him.”
The toy’s beady black eyes zero in on me like eager cockroaches.
“Up to my
old
self,” I mumble. “That’s a weird thing for a stranger to say, don’t you think?”
Jeb shrugs. “Well, maybe that’s how they talk in England.”
My pulse jumps. “England?”
“Yeah. After the ambulance left, the guy helped me drag my bike from the water. He’s a foreign exchange student, enrolling at Pleasance High. Seems pointless to enroll during the last week of school. But his parents insisted.”
My arms feel limp. “He told you he was from England?”
“He didn’t have to. He has the accent.”
Morpheus’s threat rings loud in my memory:
By the time they find your body, I’ll already be there.
Heart pounding, I kick off my blankets. “We have to get out of here!”
“Al!” Jeb tries to keep me from
Jeb nods. “I’m not a distraction. I’m helping. I want you to succeed just as much as she does.”
“I know. She just doesn’t see it that way.”
“After my meeting with Ivy Raven tonight, I should have all the money we’ll need to get started in London. That will prove how much I want to help.”
My fingers jerk in his. So that’s why he shaved and dressed up. To make a good impression on his new heiress client. My mom’s warning of betrayal surfaces in my mind, but I push it down. I know I can trust Jeb. Still, I can’t seem to control what comes out of my mouth next.
“You’re going to leave me for work on the first night I’m awake?” I cringe at the neediness in my voice.
Jeb wraps my hair around his fingers. “Your mom made it clear I should be gone before she gets back. Ivy’s in town, so I’m going tomeet her and let her choose a painting. She’s not in the country very often. We have to take advantage while she’s here.”
“But it’s a holiday. Isn’t the gallery closed? Is Mr. Piero meeting you there?”
“He’s home with his family. He’s letting me use the showroom as a favor.”
My lips tighten. I don’t like him going alone, though I can’t put my finger on why. Maybe it’s my netherling side, because the emotion feels animalistic … feral. A dark and disorienting instinct that’s pecking away all of the trust we’ve forged over the past year.
Jeb’s mine.
Mine mine mine
.
A snarl tugs at my lips, but I suppress it. What’s wrong with me?
The stuffed clown flops to the floor with a metallic twang, and Jeb and I both jump.
“Huh,” Jeb says as he picks the toy up and rearranges it on the windowsill. He tugs at the oddly shaped hat. “There’s something metal under there. Must be top-heavy.”
“Who’s that from?” I ask.
“The guy who helped on Friday after I pulled you out. I was trying to get you to breathe, and he appeared out of nowhere … said he saw an ambulance going down the street and waved it down for us. My cell phone was lost in the flood. He got the help I couldn’t give you.”
There’s something about the clown. Apart from it looking distantly familiar … apart from it being bigger than the other toys. It almost appears alive. I keep waiting for it to move.
As it stares back at me, the shadows seem to change its expression—from a smile to an evil sneer. Even the cello in its hand can’t soften the image.
A cello.
My wariness kicks up another notch. That’s the one instrument that I know how to play. The one instrument I haven’t touched since last summer. How would a stranger know that about me?
Jeb said the guy appeared out of nowhere …
Trepidation knots in my throat. “What’s this person’s name?” I ask.
“I didn’t get it,” Jeb answers. “The card on the clown said, ‘Hope you’re feeling up to your old self soon.’ No signature. But we checked with everyone else and no one we know sent it. So it must’ve been him.”
The toy’s beady black eyes zero in on me like eager cockroaches.
“Up to my
old
self,” I mumble. “That’s a weird thing for a stranger to say, don’t you think?”
Jeb shrugs. “Well, maybe that’s how they talk in England.”
My pulse jumps. “England?”
“Yeah. After the ambulance left, the guy helped me drag my bike from the water. He’s a foreign exchange student, enrolling at Pleasance High. Seems pointless to enroll during the last week of school. But his parents insisted.”
My arms feel limp. “He told you he was from England?”
“He didn’t have to. He has the accent.”
Morpheus’s threat rings loud in my memory:
By the time they find your body, I’ll already be there.
Heart pounding, I kick off my blankets. “We have to get out of here!”
“Al!” Jeb tries to keep me from
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