The Imaginary Friend’s Obsession (Monster Research Facility #3)

Chapter Nine

I pause on the front porch, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Even as a child, I was always averse to inviting people into my home. Because of my parents, and because of Dorian. But also because I was afraid to show them too much of myself.

Yet I’m choosing to trust Ezra. I have to let him in. And it’s not as though there are any secrets to find that I haven’t revealed to him already. Not any that I remember, at least. So I push the door open and gesture for him to follow me inside.

“Sorry for the cold. It’s an old building.” I wipe a smudge of dust off a side table. “And I’m still in the process of cleaning it.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Ezra says. “It’s beautiful.”

I shrug, self-conscious despite his words, and invite him to wait in the living room while I make us a pot of tea. When I head to join him, he’s waiting on the couch, hands folded in his lap and eyes on the family portrait that hangs over the mantle. A young version of me stands between my parents. We all look so happy; I wonder if Ezra can see the same strain as I do in my smile.

But when I look at him, his stare is distant, like he’s looking through the portrait instead of at it. There’s a wrinkle between his brows, and his hands clutch each other in his lap.

“Ezra?” I whisper.

No response.

“Ezra?” I try again, louder, and he jumps and turns to me. His shoulders slump as the tension bleeds out of him, and he shoots me an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he says. “I thought I felt something. Or heard something. I don’t know.”

“Something weird?” I ask, my heart rate picking up. “Like…?”

Ezra shuts his eyes, frowning, and slowly shakes his head. “I think it was just you.” He opens his eyes again, looking at me. “Your presence can be overwhelming sometimes. Even in the MRF.”

I don’t know why I asked. Dorian was the only strange thing living in this place, and the only thing it’s haunted by now is his absence. I need to get a hold of myself and stop letting the bad dreams get to me.

I set a mug of tea in front of Ezra and sit in an armchair with my fingers curled around my own. Breathing in the smell of chamomile, Ilet the warmth seep into me. I’m not sure I’ve stopped shaking since I admitted the truth to him.

“I should’ve told you right away,” I blurt, when I can finally form words. “I… I should’ve admitted it to the people who came from the MRF that night. But I thought— I was afraid to admit it. And I didn’t think they’d be able to capture Dorian. But I was wrong, and so all of these years, I’ve let him take the blame and the punishment.” I blink back a surge of tears. “Dorian never hurt anyone. It probably was me.”

“Do you remember ever hurting anyone with your powers before that?” Ezra asks. I shake my head. “And have you hurt anyone since?”

“No.”

“Then we can’t assume it was you, either,” he says.

I stare into my tea. He has a point, and I’m not sure if I should be relieved. I don’t know what would be harder for me to stomach: the idea that Dorian killed my parents and he’s too dangerous to set free, or the idea that I did it and he took the blame these past years.

Either one of us could be a murderer. I don’t remember the truth, and Dorian is too scattered to speak of it.

“It isn’t just that night missing from my memories,” I say. “There are blank spaces. I can feel places in my head where things don’t make sense. I could be forgetting times where I hurt someone, or Dorian did, or both…” I remember that moment in the observation room where I felt I was on the verge of remembering something. The pain in my skull, the nosebleed… Discomfort shivers through me. Whatever is hidden in my memories, I know it will be difficult to face.

Ezra taps a finger against the rim of his mug. “As far as I see it, there are two possibilities: either we get Dorian to talk to us, or we dredge up your lost memory.”

I set my tea aside and lean back in my chair. “I wouldn’t know where to begin with solving either of those problems.”

“Well…” Ezra tilts his head, thoughtful. “It may just be one problem, actually. It’s clear there’s a link between the two of you. Whatever is causing your blocked memories may be what has Dorian in such a state as well.”

I hug my knees to my chest. “So how can we fix it?” I’m not sure if I mean Fix him or fix me.

“Well…” Ezra hesitates. Then he seems to shrug off whatever he was about to say. “I suppose we could start with some good old-fashioned detective work.”