CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
I opened my eyes.
There was a stillness inside me as I peered around my little nook. At the shelves of books. I could hear the clock ticking. Everything was as it was. As it should be.
I went to grab my latest read, but my hand paused.
For the second time, I held back. Images of my dream flooded through me in rapid succession.
My body trembled at the memory of Rowe’s tiny form, his body covered in butterflies.
I swallowed hard and turned my sights to the bookshelf.
I skimmed the titles, waiting for something to jump out.
Immediately, my eyes found the bookmark hanging out of a leather-bound book. A metal bookmark in the shape of an orange butterfly. I wondered if the butterflies appeared because of this very bookmark. If…If I opened the book to where that bookmark was sitting…I might find an answer to this madness.
I am mad.
I must be.
It was just a dream, after all.
I pulled out the book and took a deep breath. I didn’t allow time to prepare myself. I opened the book to the exact spot of the bookmark without reading the title. But I knew the book. I knew it like the back of my hand. Oliver had made sure of it.
I didn’t need to search the page. My eyes landed on the passage that shattered my heart and turned my fear into steely determination.
The prisoner had left the cave. The world beyond it was colder, but for the first time, he could see the stars.
Welcome out of the cave, my friend. It’s a bit colder out here, but the stars are just beautiful.
I looked up from the book, and all I saw was Rowe. Tiny Rowe. Covered in butterflies.
No, he would not become faceless.
Neither would the others.
I closed Plato’s book and hugged it to my chest.
Come to the light, June had said. Save them.