Verum (14 page)

I
sit
in Olivia’s room, her locket in my hands.

It’s gold, it’s delicate, it’s real. It’s cool in my hands.

I concentrate on it, on the etched calla lily.

Symbolic? Ironic? Coincidental?

Nothing is a coincidence in this house. It’s something I’ve come to realize.

Sunlight from the window pours through the sheer curtains, throwing muted light into the room. I turn the pendant over and over, watching it glint, watching the calla lily come and go.

To and fro.

To and fro.

And then,

I see her.

Olivia.

As clear as day,

Standing in front of me.

“Can you bring him to me?” she asks, her voice low and soft. “That’s all I want to know.”

Confusion billows like waves, through me, over me, around me.

Can I?

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “Where are you?”

I’m puzzled, but the vision ends with nausea, the way they always do.

When I become conscious again, I’m on my hands and knees on the floor, the room spinning to a stop around me.

As soon as I’m able, I stagger to my room and make a cup of Sabine’s tea, because it calms me. It’s the only thing that does.

At dinner, Dare is playing the piano, the notes wafting gently.

“Time here passes so quickly,” I mention to Eleanor. I sip at another cup of tea, because it feels like that’s all I do now. My hold on reality is tenuous, and all I can do is safeguard it.

Eleanor lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t argue.

“Time is your enemy, Calla,” is all she says. I set my cup down, and stare into it, and the tea leaves seem to have formed a question mark. I stare at it, mesmerized until Jones comes to take it away.

It’s that night when I dream again.

But I don’t dream of Olivia. I dream of my own mother, of Finn and my father, and of Dare.

The night is dark, the ground is cold.

That’s what I’m thinking as we pile into our car, Finn and my father and me.

Someone is chasing us,

But that’s impossible.

Because we live on top of a mountain,

And no one else is there.

My phone is in my lap.

My mother is screaming.

Dare is walking up the mountain, covered in blood.

Everything goes black.

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I’m awake and I’m muttering and it’s a minute before my words become coherent.

“The night is dark, the ground is cold.”

I don’t know what it means.

All I know is I’m the rabbit and Whitley is the hole and I’m fallingfallingfalling.

I’m terrified of the dark, because it seems to growl outside of my window.

I’m terrified of being alone, and so I bolt out of bed like a shot,

And make my way to Dare’s bed.

I expect him to turn me away, but he doesn’t.

He’s in his sheets, twisted among blankets, but he doesn’t act surprised to see me.

He simply opens his arms.

“Come here,” he says,

so I do.

S
abine’s voice lulls me
, calms me.

“It’s meant to be,” she tells me, and I don’t understand.

“What is?” I ask, and I sound so young, like a child. It’s my innocence shining through and she smiles.

“Everything.”

“Am I here for a reason?” I ask, although I already know the answer.

“Yes,” she nods. “You are. And you’ll come to it.”

“Can you help?”

She nods again. “I already am, child. I already am.”

She hands me tea and I take it.

“Is there valium in this?” I ask, only half joking and she smiles.

“No.”

“Can there be?”

She smiles again. “You don’t need it.”

I beg to differ, but I don’t.

“The truth is coming, child. Be ready for it.”

I try to be, but it’s hard, because I don’t know what to watch for.

I go through the motions of my days, sitting with Eleanor when she asks, and spending my nights with Dare.

During the days, he’s aloof and cool and detached, but at night, he’s different.

He’s warm and gentle and mine.

By night I am free.

Nocte liber sum.

Tonight, he waits for me.

Tonight, he lies next to me, propped on his elbow, staring down at me.

“You’ve always been mine,” he tells me, his voice low. “Even before you knew it.”

He kisses me almost before I can answer, before I can tell him that he’s mine, too. I sigh and he sucks it in, his tongue in my mouth. His lips are soft, his arms are hard, and I don’t want to ever leave this bed.

For the first time, I fall asleep in his arms, the rhythm of his breathing and his heart lulling me into sleep.

His arms can’t keep the dreams away.

There’s blood, like always, but it isn’t mine.

It isn’t Finn’s.

It’s Dare’s.

Olivia stands in front of me again, her eyes accusatory.

Surprised, I stare at her.

“Why are you here?”

She stares back.

“Why are you? You don’t belong with him.”

“I do,” I argue. “I do.”

“You don’t deserve him,” she whispers, her face turning white. “You’re his downfall.”

“Why am I his downfall?” I almost scream it. “I’m harmless. I haven’t hurt a soul.”

“But you did,” she argues simply, waving her arm. The cliffs by my house appear, and my mom’s smashed car is in the ravine. There’s blood, there’s screams and they’re dead.

“I called my mom,” I remember. “She crashed into my brother.”

Olivia stares at me. “The past is a prison, and you’ll never break
free.”

“Wake up, Cal. Wake up.”

It’s Dare now, and he’s murmuring into my ears and his grip is too hard on my arms. I squirm away.

“Why did you say that?” he demands, his eyes so stormy. The sheets are around his waist and his chest is bare.

“Say what?” I say dumbly, fighting to emerge from the cloud of sleep.

“The past is a prison,” he answers harshly. “My mother used to say that.”

I shake my head slowly from side to side. “I don’t know why I said it.”

I can’t tell him that I’m dreaming of his mother.

He’ll think I’m crazy,

because I am.

He pulls away from me and his absence is cold.

“What’s going on, Calla?” he asks, his back to me as he sits on the side of the bed. “What do you know?”

I’m a terrible liar, so I decide not to try.

The consequences can be damned.

“I know that everyone wants an answer from me. I know I’m here for a reason.”

Dare looks at me over his shoulder, and his expression is so vulnerable.

“I’m tired of feeling crazy,” I tell him. “Is that the answer? Is that what everyone is waiting for? For me to admit that I’m crazy?”

He shakes his head and sighs.

“Are you lying to me?” I demand and he pushes my hair back with his fingers.

“No.”

“A secret is the same thing as a lie,” I tell him.

He looks away, because he knows.

D
ay by day
, I’m more and more convinced that I’m slipping away from sanity.

Day by day, Sabine convinces me that I’m not.

“Close your eyes,” Sabine directs me, so I do. She takes my hand and hers is dry, it’s small and twisted and I absorb her warmth.

“Picture the place where you saw Olivia,” she tells me, so I do.

I hear the ocean, I see the pictures of Dare, I see her filmy nightgown, her soft heart-shaped face. I hear the accusation in her voice.

“Bring him to me,” she directs me.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“I’m nearby,” she answers mysteriously.

“Can you tell me?”

She shakes her head and her face is so very sad.

“No. You must figure it out.”

I feel helpless and scared, and that feeling builds and builds.

“I can’t figure it out,” I tell her desperately. “That’s the problem. You’re dead. I don’t know where you are.”

“You can,” she assures me. “You must. Energy cannot be destroyed. I’m everywhere.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and when I do, the images shimmer and change.

I’m getting into a car.

Finn is with me, and my father, too.

“If I’m going, I’m driving,” I tell them.

And I drive down the mountain.

And my mother,

My mother,

My mother.

The night is dark, the ground is cold.

The words whisper and morph and I’m confused.

I look at Olivia.

“That isn’t what happened.”

She nods and she’s sad and her eyes become headlights.

I startle, and my eyes open.

Sabine is waiting for me, waiting for answers.

All I have are questions,

And confusion,

And lies.

It didn’t happen that way.

Sabine is still waiting, her eyes dark.

“Did you see Olivia?”

I nod. Because I did see her.

“What was around her? The sea? Was there anything else?”

I shake my head.

“No. She was just standing in front of me.”

Sabine clucks, and she’s patient. “You must open your mind, Calla. Let it come.”

I tried. But when I do, nonsense comes.

Lies.

But I nod, because what else can I do?

They need me to figure this out.

Olivia is lost.

And so am I.

This can’t be real.

Dreams aren’t real.

“
Your
dreams are,” Sabine tells me. “Dreams are your mind’s way of leading you to the light. Follow it, Calla.”

The only thing I follow is Dare. He comes to get me and we walk the halls, and we stroll through the gardens and we make our way to our spot.

The secret garden,

Our place.

The angels stare at us with empty eyes, and I sag into Dare.

He’s so warm,

So strong, so strong,

So real.

“Is this happening?” I ask him. “Because sometimes, I can’t tell the difference.”

He tilts my head back with his thumb, lifting my face to the sky. His eyes claim me, stroke me, ignite me.

I fold into his palms,

And he holds me up.

“I’m real,” he says into my hair. “You’re real.”

We’re standing in the sun,

There’s no reason to be afraid.

Right?

Dare kisses me and his lips are sunlight. He touches me and his fingers are the moon. It’s night somewhere, and by night we are free.

We come together like the stars,

Beneath the shelter of the gazebo.

Away from sight,

Away from everything.

Just us.

Our skin is hot,

Our mouths are needy.

We are alone.

But for the godforsaken angels.

The angels scare me,” I whisper to Dare, and I clutch him close.

He holds me tight.

“I know,” he says. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, and it’s the truth. “Maybe it’s their eyes. They see me.”

“I see you,” he reminds me, and his eyes are black.

Black, black,

Black as night.

“Will you always?” I murmur, and his neck tastes like salt. My fingers find his LIVE FREE.

“Yes,” he promises.

“Repromissionem,” I tell him. “It’s Latin.”

“I know.”

T
he kitchens are surprisingly
bright and I pick at my bagel, perched on a stool as Sabine cooks.

“Aren’t there cooks here?” I ask curiously, because I’ve never been in here before.

“Of course, child,” she answers without turning around. “But I brew my own tea.”

The pot she’s stirring is large, and I eye it doubtfully.

“That’s a big pot for tea, Sabine.”

She laughs, then studies me.

“I want to read your cards again,” she announces. When I’m instantly resistant, she adds. “One last time.”

One last time?

Ok.

I follow her to her room, and she spreads my cards in a circle.

“Ah,” she breathes, drawing a card. “The Knight of Pentacles.” She looks up at me. It means something is finally coming to fruition. It’s almost time, child.”

“What’s almost time?”

She draws another card without answering.

She turns it around.

A woman holds scales, her face serene.

“Justice,” Sabine says. “She represents balance. A balanced mind, a logical heart. Things will come together for you soon. You’ll see things as they are.”

God, I hope.

She bends her head and her fingers move, and she comes back up with one last card.

It’s the dark skull.

The death card.

“What does that mean?” my voice is shaky, and I already know, of course.

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t always mean death, child. Sometimes, it just means a shift in the order of things, or a rebirth, even.”

“But sometimes… it just means death, right?”

My voice is small, and Sabine nods.

“And in this case?’

She shrugs. “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”

It’s not the answer I wanted.

I hesitate, but then my words come out before I can stop them.

“Do you know what happened to my uncle?”

Sabine stares at the table, without looking up.

“Do you know?” I ask gently.

“Just because you think you want the answer to something doesn’t mean you actually do,” she replies, her words a bit broken.

I stare her down.

She stares back, not intimidated. “Dare is a good boy,” she insists, although I never said otherwise. “And what he did… well, it had to be done. He was young and he paid the price. He never deserved it.”

But she won’t say more, and I’m not sure I want to know.

I drift out of her room,

Toward the stables.

I can’t be inside,

I can’t be contained.

My thoughts are my enemy because they think about things I don’t want to know.

I ask the groom to saddle Jupiter.

“Are you sure, Miss?” he looks at me, waiting for someone else to appear. “You want to ride alone?”

I nod. Of course I’m sure.

The breeze pushes my hair away from my face as I ride away from the house,

As I ride towards the pond.

The place Dare took me swimming.

I loop Jupiter’s reins on a tree branch, and leave him eating clover.

I strip off my shirt and shorts, and wade into the water.

It’s not as cold as it was before,

It doesn’t take my breath away.

I slip under,

Allowing the water to cover my face, to cover my head, and my hair billows toward the surface. I stay under as long as I can, until my lungs are hot and heavy, then I kick to the surface. Pushing onto my back, I stare at the sky as I float.

I’m buoyant,

I’m a boat.

But then she’s in front of me again.

Olivia.

Her hair is on fire and her eyes are wild.

“Help him!” she screeches.

I look to where she’s pointing, but there’s only a car, a smashed silver mess.

“You did this,” she croons, rocking back and forth, sinking onto her heels. Her sheer nightgown drags in the water.

All of a sudden, the car catches fire, even though it’s half submerged. It flares like a flash in a pan, and then the rest of it is underwater, extinguished.

A shadow flashes by.

The boy in the hood.

What does he want?

Then I yank myself out of the water,

And I’m back at Whitley.

I’m in the bathtub, the water spilling over the sides.

Dare has a washcloth in his hand, running it over my arms. I still his hand with my own, my voice wild.

“What happened? God, just tell me. I can’t take this anymore, Dare.”

He stares at me sadly, and the front of his shirt is wet.

His expression reminds me of his little boy face, the haunted one, the sad one. The one he had because my uncle beat him, and because his own mother let him.

“You’re almost there, Calla-Lily. You’re almost there.”

His words are careful and slow, and I hesitate, because I’m afraid that
there
might just kill me.