34. Elena
34
ELENA
I worry I made a mistake taking Ivy to the Reaper’s Revenge. The crowds are worse than I expected, a line at every shop and booth and stand. Ivy claps her hands over her ears and keeps them there, which makes it difficult for her to enjoy the activities or even eat a caramel apple.
Then I remember that I brought my headphones, the noise-cancelling sort, which work very well because they used to belong to Mina, who prioritizes music over food or books.
Ivy gets the most adorable look of surprise on her face when I turn them on, like one of those babies trying a cochlear implant for the first time but in reverse. Ivy is thrilled to be plunged into blessed silence.
She calms down immediately when she doesn’t have to hear all the shouts and whoops and chattering conversation—including mine. I’m relaxing a little myself because Lorne is leaving us alone and Mrs. Cross has disappeared entirely.
Lorne seems to be finding the street fair boring despite the explosions of color, sight, sound, and, most of all, smell emanating from every doorway. He’s not engaging, hanging back, barely speaking.
That’s exactly what I prefer. I’m here to spend time with Ivy. And if it’s deeply tinged with guilt at the fact that I’m about to leave her high and dry, at least I can channel that into giving her the best damn Halloween night of her life.
She looks like a small brown snowman, wobbling along with her headphones rounding her hood and her body padded with feathers. I wish I brought my camera along to take pictures of her, but I was afraid of it being jostled in the crowd. Ivy and I did, however, take a portrait before we left. I set the timer, and we posed together in front of the fireplace, pretending to be solemn like a formal portrait.
She has been somber, though. Like she knows I’m leaving. Maybe Lorne does, too. Maybe that’s why he’s barely speaking to me.
Once, I thought I saw Atlas—or at least, I saw a truly enormous Mr. Bones. It was far away and only for a moment, but it made me feel warm from my head to my toes. I hoped he would come to make sure that I’m safe.
It’s that warmth, that feeling of invincibility, that tricks me moments later.
Lorne appears out of nowhere and grips my arm, steering me firmly toward the haunted house.
“Lorne! Don’t you think that’s a little scary for Ivy?”
“She wants to go in. It was her idea.” Lorne jerks his chin toward Ivy, who’s gazing up at the flat wooden facade, her feathered hood tipped back and her pale blond hair spilling down her back, her green eyes wide and almost dazed.
I don’t know if that’s actually true. The haunted house is painted in all kinds of bright neon colors and patterns, some spinning and moving. Ivy does seem…interested. But I’m worried she’ll be terrified once we’re inside.
Lorne is steering us in so forcefully that I’d have to physically resist to stop him. Ivy doesn’t seem upset. And I just saw Atlas moments ago…
So I let him push me inside.
But inside is not at all what I expected.
The interior space is as vast and winding as a labyrinth, with stairs and levels and elevators. I immediately start to get claustrophobic and want to leave, but we’re shunted down the chute like cattle, more guests pouring in behind us.
Ivy is oddly calm, her hand in mine. Without the noise, she doesn’t seem bothered by neon ghosts popping out at us or even killer clowns. She stays close against my side, so nobody actually touches her, but like with her Firestarter book, she does seem to crave a certain level of excitement.
Me, too. That’s why I sometimes used to read ten hours a day if the bookshop was slow and Boyka wasn’t around.
I’d read anything and everything that was beautiful, passionate, and exciting…all the things my life wasn’t. But I wished it were.
And then I made that awful mistake, and my life became a nightmare, a clock ticking down to disaster…until Lorne showed up. And it seemed my mistake had become something miraculous.
But I should have known that miracles don’t come from what I did…only consequences.
So in a strange way, I’m not surprised when Lorne suddenly grips my hair and yanks me through a side door, dragging Ivy after us. In the darkness and chaos, as he puts his arm around my throat and begins to choke, I can only think, I guess this is what I deserved after all.