Twelve
F or the next few days, I was bursting to tell Flora everything.
About how I had walked in on something —a scene which I increasingly could not believe, wondering if perhaps I’d made it all up: Mr Sinclair’s blood-stained chest and fingers, yet how he was absolutely fine . I hadn’t heard that there were any deaths at the party, but I also supposed there were people powerful enough to cover up a story like that.
And then he had led me to him , to Adam, who appeared as though he had never left.
How long had it been since he returned? It felt like a stab to my gut, a wrench to my heart, how I had not known. How he hadn’t told me.
I was unable to leave the house, not because of Mother’s insistence, her house arrest, but because I didn’t know how to face the world .
Wasting away in my bed, only leaving my room for meals. Mother seemed pleased that I would not take Flora’s calls, that I did not go out in the evenings. The maid said nothing to me, only waking me in the late morning, bringing me my tea, and helping me get ready for bed at night, all the while eyeing me warily. Though, I didn’t need much readying. After a few days, I stayed in my nightgown and just pulled my robe on top, for some semblance of propriety when joining my mother downstairs.
I had to tell Flora. Had to get this truth out of me, had to release it from its festering in my heart.
But she’d think I was crazy.
People didn’t drink blood, didn’t… consummate while bathing in it.
That was something out of a lewd horror novel, and this was real life.
Maybe it was an elaborate performance? Meant to mystify unsuspecting guests?
But Sinclair had blood staining his chin, his teeth. A woman at his side, sucking on his neck, and a man in his lap, unclothed. There was a shamelessness in that room that I hadn’t seen before.
And Adam, amidst it all, was totally unfazed by Sinclair’s blood-stained appearance.
I mulled it over and over in my head, and couldn’t make sense of it.
How was this Adam, my Adam? The same boy that ran into me on the street, the same one with ink-stained hands and a disdain for extravagance? And yet, there he was, in the most extravagant house in the whole city, the whole state, casually waiting for me to stumble upon him all over again .
I grew tired so quickly when all I did was dwell on it, and as I fell into a doze, there came a knock on my door.
My eyes had only snapped open when Flora walked in. Her lips were pursed as she entered the room, wearing a soft pink day dress, her brow furrowed as she saw me laying like a corpse in bed.
She shut the door softly behind her and came to the bed.
“Why haven’t I heard from you?” She sat at my feet, concern lacing her words.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I pushed my hair out of my face. “I’ve been… resting.”
She raised a brow. “For four days?”
I shrugged. I had days to come up with an excuse, but nothing even remotely convincing had come to me. My preoccupation with the truth took over.
“What happened?”
“Why did something need to happen?” I asked. Knowing I was being difficult but I was so overwhelmed, so tired.
She sighed. “Helena, you know you can talk to me.” She reached for my arm, gently placing her palm against mine. “I know your brother’s coming, and I know that’s not going to be easy for you. But holing yourself away won’t make you feel better.”
I bit my lip.
This was another problem—Lucas was coming, and Adam was back. I didn’t even want to know what would happen if the two ran into each other.
“It’s just…” The words fled from me, stalled in my throat.
But she was silent and patient .
Flora was my friend, my best friend, and had been my whole life. If I could tell anyone, it would be her.
“Adam isn’t dead.”
I could hardly believe it even as I said it. My throat constricted, the dull ache there ever-present since I’d returned home, days ago.
She blinked. I saw as it hit her.
“But he is ,” she said slowly. “We had a funeral. His parents got a letter.”
I remembered well. A letter from the government, issuing an apology that their son was missing, believed dead. Not even a pair of tags to show for it. I remembered the way his mother wailed at the funeral, unable to stay as the priest prayed over nothing , no casket, no printed photo of him; remembered his father’s stoic expression, hardened after years of work and now this, his son missing—dead.
There was never a body.
I shook my head, tears welling up in my lashes, tears I had not let fall the past few days. “He’s alive. I saw him.”
“What happened?” she repeated.
And how would I tell her? Any way I spun it in my head sounded like the ramblings of a madman. “I…” Choking on the words, I took a breath and willed the tears away. “The old church, the party—he was there.”
“You went back?”
I should have brought her with me. I shouldn’t have gone alone.
Nodding, I swallowed the lump in my throat. It all came rushing at me, everything I had tried to push down these last few days, few weeks; the ache I never let myself feel when we’d heard the news six years ago.
“Mr. Sinclair invited me back, I suppose.” I sniffled, wiping my eyes, but the blurriness was replaced by fresh tears. I laced my fingers through hers. “I couldn’t say no. You know how beautiful it is there, how amazing .”
She nodded.
“And I went to a part of the house we’d not gone to the other night. Upstairs.” How not to sound like I had been hallucinating? “There was a… separate party, and I saw Mr. Sinclair there. And he led me away to a room, and there Adam was.”
“He was just there ?” she balked. “Waiting for you?”
“It seemed so.”
He had been waiting for me, like he knew I would be there. Like he knew I would arrive that night. Did he wait every night?
And Sinclair had been the one to convince me to find the upstairs party. To lead me to Adam, who seemed to know what was going on, who knew Sinclair and was unfazed by the blood.
Had Adam told Sinclair to find me?
“I can’t believe it, Helena.” Flora pulled herself up further onto the bed, crossing her legs. “This is crazy!”
I forced a laugh under my breath. “I know.”
“So he just fooled everyone then?” Her brows knit together. “How long has he been back?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“And when you say that he was at that house—”
“I think it’s his house.”
It was the only thing that made sense. How he was so casually relaxing in a study, as though he owned the place. Well- to-do men like Sinclair at his bidding. That soft, confident smile, before I ran away.
“So Adam is Vince Thornton,” she said, not sounding entirely convinced.
Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, the weight of my own disbelief heavy. These were facts I had been mulling over for days, thoughts that I had turned upside down until they were no longer recognizable.
“And Dixon knows Vince Thornton.” She came to some conclusion in her head and scowled. “ That bastard . And he didn’t tell us! I have half a mind to show up and rip him a new one!”
“Maybe he didn’t know,” I said. I had never seen her so angry. Her cheeks began to flush, her ears turning red as she stewed.
Perhaps she was learning then how us girls were just playthings to these men.
“We should go back.”
“What?” I paled.
“We should go back. To the mansion.” She said it simply, but I saw a fire in her eyes that had never been there before. “Just us. I don’t want Dixon there this time.”
“But why?”
“ Because . We need to talk to Vince—Adam. I would like to know what he’s been up to.”
I fell back onto the bed, feeling drained of my energy again. “Flora, can we not?” My pulse was beginning to pound at my temples. I rubbed my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to go back.
Promise me .
And I had, but the thought of returning struck steel into my heart.
What were his intentions? What did he want from me? And why now ? No one left and stayed gone for years without some sort of darkness in their heart, some sort of motive.
The naive girl in me tried to convince me that maybe all was well, all was a misunderstanding. But that blood—
I couldn’t get it out of my head. Every time I shut my eyes to the light, a deep red marred my mind.
The bed dipped as Flora sat next to me, pulling me into her arms. “I just cannot believe this.”
Neither could I.
“I just want the best for you. To figure this out for you.”
“I know.”
She leant her cheek on the top of my head, and we sat there for a moment, letting everything settle.
It felt like when we were little girls, hugging over simpler things—because we were the best of friends, and you hugged the ones you loved. Because I had given her a treat for her birthday. Because we were reading a book together and it felt natural when you were so close.
If I could turn back the clock, I’d go back and warn those little girls not to be fools.
“Do you want me to stay?” she asked, and my heart ached, because how could I not have trusted her? Why did I think she wouldn’t be here for me, when she’s never abandoned me? She was with me when I fell for Adam, with me when Lucas found out, and with me as I grew and changed into the woman I was now, always trying to forget .
I shook my head. “You don’t have to.” Mother would grow suspicious .
She ran her fingers through my hair, brushing it away from my face. It was something I remember wishing my mother had done growing up.
“But I will,” Flora offered. “I cannot just return home knowing you are wasting away over here.”
A smile pulled at her lips, and it was infectious, my cheeks pulling tight for the first time in days. “I’ll be fine,” I insisted. “And I promise not to ignore your calls anymore.”
“Good,” she said, going to stand. She fixed her purse on her shoulder, opened her mouth to speak, then paused. She bit her lip. “Is this about Lucas?”
When was it not ?
No, I was upset because Adam lied to me.
I was mad, because how long had I been traipsing around the city, when he was right there under my nose?
Mad because he never sought me out.
Angry because I’d given up long ago, and for nothing.
Maybe he was over it. Maybe the man I used to know was no longer here. Maybe what we had meant nothing now.
So why summon me?
A sigh slipped from my lips. “Maybe.”
It was Lucas’ fault we were here. Maybe Lucas already knew Adam was back and had threatened him again. Banned him from reaching out. It was the only thing I could fathom. And of course, Lucas wouldn’t tell me, but why did it not seem that Adam’s family knew of his return?
Why was he parading around under a different identity ?
A shot of pain pulsed through my temples, and I rubbed my eyes again. “I don’t know. Just—Can you come back tomorrow? I don’t want to talk about it, but I need our tea time, even if Mother won’t let me go out. I need everything to go back to normal.”
When I opened my eyes, Flora nodded like she understood. “Same time as always?”
“Same time as always.” I tried a smile.
She went to turn the knob.
“And don’t bring it up with Dixon. Please. Not—not what happened.” My past, Adam’s past.
Flora glanced over her shoulder, raising a brow. “I can’t make any promises.”
And then she was gone.