Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
“Hi,” Adeline said as the call connected, “I was just wondering if Jane was there. Jane Clark?”
Having returned home to her frosty apartment, the snow coming down thick outside, she’d had no idea what to do with herself, or how to get the dirty, crawling sensation out of her veins.
She’d immediately thought of her sister. Jane would know what to do about Dr. Platt. So, Adeline had called the number for the archaeological research base in Scotland, figuring that’d be the best way to reach her sister. If nothing else, it would be nice to hear a familiar voice.
But the voice that replied was anything but familiar, and certainly not friendly.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” a male voice replied in a gruff British accent.
Adeline grimaced. “It’s late, huh?”
“It’s one o’clock in the morning,” the man said, adding a dramatic sigh. “Is it urgent?”
“Um… no, not urgent. I just… uh… wanted to wish her a Merry Christmas.” Adeline shook her head, feeling twice as stupid. “Could you ask her to call me tomorrow? I’ll be here all day.”
“Sure, no problem.”
The man hung up, leaving Adeline staring at a blank screen.
Undeterred, Adeline dialed Emma. Her best friend picked up on the third ring, wailing down the phone, “My favorite person in the whole entire world! How are you? Are you at the hospital? Are you coming to the party? It is wild over here!”
She sounded drunk, though it was only a few minutes past eight o’clock.
“The party…”
Adeline could’ve smacked herself. Emma had gone to New York with her boyfriend to celebrate Christmas Eve. It was the only thing she’d talked about for weeks, deliberating over outfits and makeup looks. Adeline had been invited, of course, but she’d declined, knowing that she’d be in no mood for a party after a long Christmas Eve shift. Her past self was one heck of a prophet.
“Yeah, you coming?” Emma yelled as heavy bass music thudded in the background.
Adeline hesitated, doing some mental arithmetic to see how long it would take her to get out of her panda onesie and then get to New York, while having no enthusiasm for it.
“I’ve just been asked to cover a colleague’s shift, so I wanted to get my Merry Christmas in early,” she lied, feeling horrible about it. “You having fun?”
“Addie?” Emma’s voice softened, the music in the background quietening to a distant thump. “Is something wrong? Do you want me to come back? I can bring champagne and cookies?”
“What? No, don’t be silly.”
Emma’s entire mood had shifted to one of concern. “I know you’re not covering someone’s shift, Addie. What’s up? What happened?”
“I forgot about the party,” Adeline admitted. “Had a long day, thought I’d call you, then… obviously remembered you’re in the city. I’m so sorry for calling. You go and wring every bit of fun you can from New York, and give that boyfriend of yours a hug for me.”
Emma was silent for a few moments. “You sure? I don’t mind coming back if you need me, Addie.”
“I need to sleep, that’s what I need,” Adeline insisted, forcing a laugh. “Seriously, go have fun. I’ll be fine. I’m going to eat pizza, fall asleep on the sofa, and call you bright and early in the morning just to torment your hangover.”
Emma chuckled. “You absolutely sure?”
“So sure,” Adeline promised as loneliness crept in through the gaps in the kitchen window frame, where she stood staring at her solitary reflection, letting the cold seep into her bones.
“Well, if you change your mind, shoot me a text, and I’ll come running,” Emma said, meaning it.
If sixteen years of friendship had taught Adeline anything, it was that. Emma would always come when called. Through rain or snow or sleet or hellfire, she’d be there. Had been there.
With a back and forth of goodbyes, Adeline hung up first, leaving Emma to her big night in the city… and wishing, momentarily, that she’d agreed to go and meet her friend.
“Now what?” Adeline whispered to herself, tapping her phone against her chin.
She peered outside. New Jersey was lit up like a Christmas tree, the snow falling silently as car horns beeped in the near distance. From other windows, the soft glow of festive joy spilled out.
Even below, in the parking lot of her apartment complex, two kids and their dad were making the most of the snow, despite the stormy conditions, rolling up three balls to make a snowman.
We used to do that…
She retreated from the window. It was easier to pretend it was any other day.
She took a bottle of wine from the cupboard and sat down, switching on the TV. She found a ropey Christmas romcom, where the big city girl goes back to her sleepy hometown to save the day, falling in love with some handsome man in plaid along the way. After five minutes, she was up on her feet again, making her way to her bedroom, wine bottle and glass in hand.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of her tiny walk-in closet, she poured herself a glass of wine and dragged out the dusty, old box that had been hiding behind her shoes ever since she moved in three years ago.
It was a box of buried memories—old school reports, medals from her brief stint as a gymnast, a wooden reindeer ornament with a snapped antler, a few stuffed animals, and pictures of the family she once held so dear, before it all got turned upside down.
“Hello…” She frowned at a hinged black box tucked into the corner. “I thought Jane took you.”
She reached in, opening the lid of the old gift box to reveal a snow globe. It contained an ordinary fairytale scene—a chocolate-box cottage in a forest somewhere, with pine trees decked out in all their festive finery, while glittery white deer stood frozen, like they’d just heard a twig snap.
The more she looked at it, the more details she noticed. A pie cooling on the windowsill, a pair of doves roosting in one of the trees, a fireplace crackling through the cottage’s open door.
Whoever had made it had crafted it with so much detail, making her feel like she could slip into that miniature world, or that there were secret people living in there.
She reached for her phone, about to call Jane again, when she remembered.
No, mustn’t piss off her colleagues.
Still, she’d been certain that Jane had taken the snow globe, assuming she’d packed it away in storage with the rest of her stuff.
Yet, there it was, in Adeline’s hands, the ornament her mother had kept out all year round, despite the somewhat festive scene, giving it pride of place on the mantelpiece.
“If you shake it hard enough, whatever you wish for will come true,” her mom used to say, taking the globe down to demonstrate, though she always kept her wishes to herself.
Downing a mouthful of wine, Adeline shook the snow globe as hard as she could, whispering, “I wish to keep my job.” She shook it again, harder. “I wish this day never happened. I wish to forget it all.”
She glanced down at the bottle of wine, knowing that it would serve the same purpose.
Tucking the snow globe under her arm, laughing at the ridiculousness of believing that snow globes—or birthday candles, for that matter—had any sort of power, she padded back to the small living room that adjoined the kitchen and sat back down to force herself through the Christmas romcom.
An hour and a bottle of red wine later, sobbing through the grand finale, where love triumphed, Adeline had never felt more desperately alone.
It was Christmas Day tomorrow, and she’d be spending it the same way, by herself, willing someone to call, choosing wine instead of anything resembling a solid meal. She hadn’t even decorated.
Suddenly, all of the rage she’d held back in Dr. Platt’s office hit her like an icy gust of snowstorm. She grabbed the snow globe that had been sitting on the sofa beside her and shook it with a violent fury.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” she hissed at the woodland scene. It wasn’t even a wish, just a statement.
Thunder grumbled in the distance.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore!” she growled, louder this time, shaking the globe until her wrists ached and the snow swirled like the storm outside.
The thunder boomed louder, too, making the lights overhead flicker.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore!” she howled, rattling the snow globe so viciously, so vengefully that the slippery glass shot out of her hand.
The precious ornament arced through the air, crashing against the wall. It exploded into glitter and water and snowflakes, the festive scene shattering on impact.
Struck by a punch of guilt to the stomach, Adeline lunged off the sofa, scrabbling on her hands and knees in a vain attempt to pick up the pieces, feeling the bite of glass in her palms but not caring at all.
What have I done?
Tears stung her eyes as thunder roared right overhead, the vibrations thrumming through the walls, the floor, the furniture, toppling the only lamp she had on, and the TV, too.
The apartment pitched into darkness, and she went with it, collapsing onto what remained of that precious snow globe, her hands full of the pieces she could never put back together again.