38. Seraphina
38
SERAPHINA
“THE RED LINE”
I press my foot to the gas, not caring how fast I’m speeding as I race toward Maggie’s and my apartment. I can’t begin to fathom what I would do if they were able to find her—if I lost Maggie on the same day I lost Vee. My mind is a mess as I slam the truck into park on the sidewalk, leaving the keys in the ignition and the door open wide as I race up the steps of the apartment.
My chest is heaving by the time I make it to the second floor, my hands quaking as I try to jam my key into the lock. I throw open the door, charging inside as my eyes fly wildly around the room, searching for anything out of place.
Thankfully, nothing looks like it’s been ransacked—and I guess the fact the door was locked should have tipped me off to that, but I was just too out of my mind after what happened with Vee. I stand in the center of the room for a moment, steadying my emotions before I have to face Maggie.
I move toward her door, not bothering to knock, before I throw the door wide. A massive wave of relief crests over my shoulder as I see Maggie sitting in bed, her eyes closed and humming a gentle tune. Except it’s not a happy one—not at all—and something about the haunting lilt reminds me of the song Orion sang to me in the forest.
Her eyes pop when she senses me standing there, and a bright white smile eats up her freckled face. “Nina! I’m so happy you’re ho?—”
She doesn’t get to finish the sentence as I throw my arms around her. Tears leak from my eyes as I run a hand over her curly red hair, half of me still not believing she’s genuinely okay. “Magoo… Magoo, I promise I will never leave you ever again.”
She pulls back, her brows furrowed in worry. “Nina? What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, not having the strength to tell her what happened to Vee just yet. “I just… oh God, I’m so happy you’re okay.” I pull her in for another hug, holding tight even when she starts to wriggle from my hold.
“Ow! Nina, you’re squishing me!” A laugh bubbles from her lips, easing some of the sorrow throbbing beneath my skin. Instead of letting go, I pull her even closer, my throat burning from the strength I keep my sobs inside.
“Magoo… I don’t know what I would do without you.” I close my eyes as a tear leaks free. “Promise we’ll never be apart. Promise me, Magoo.”
“Silly Nina. Of course we’ll always be together!” She pulls back with a carefree smile on her face. “We’re the bestest of friends. I could never leave you.”
I nod, clutching to her words and willing them to be true. “Okay. Okay, good.” I slowly release my grip, pulling back with an embarrassed grin. “Sorry… I just?—”
“You don’t need to explain, Nina. I understand.” Her eyes hold some unspoken words I can’t make out, and right now, I don’t think I want to.
Her hand pats the duck poking out of my pocket. “What’s this?”
I pull it out, my heart heavy as I hold out the little black duck in my palm.
“It’s just a stupid duck,” I whisper, throwing it onto the couch. I don’t want a duck. I want Vee. And the reality that I never will again is too painful to bear.
A tinkling noise draws my attention to the floor, and I’m surprised to find a small storage locker key lying beneath the coffee table. I step toward it, stooping and pinching the silver key between my fingers.
“What the heck?” Maggie steps to my side and inspects the key. “Oh, how exciting! I wonder what it unlocks?”
“Yeah… I’m wondering that myself.” I turn the key over in my palm. Shrugging, I shove it into my pocket, then make my way into the kitchen to wash my hands. I watch unblinking as the bright red swirls down the sink, wondering just how much of Vee I’m losing with this simple task.
When I’m done, I head back into the living room, frowning when I realize Maggie is gone. I look in bedroom but find that that’s empty too. My pulse spikes as I run to my room, checking my closet, my bathroom—anywhere I can think—but Maggie isn’t there.
“Magoo?” I call. “Maggo, where did you go?”
I run around the apartment, my pulse screaming in my ears, but no matter where I look, she’s not there.
“Margaret!” I scream, hoping her full name will bring her back. “Margaret L’Amore, you come out right this instant!” If this is some game she’s playing, it’s not fucking funny.
Tears stream down my face as I run around, pulling up rugs, flipping over couches. I even check the contents of the fridge, but still, no Maggie.
Heaving, I step into her bedroom one more time, breathing in the scent of cherry blossoms that continually assaults me when I’m in here. Although… there’s nothing. Frowning, I move back to the kitchen, deciding to check it one very last time before I really start to freak out.
But as soon as I do, I wish I hadn’t.
My heart drops to my stomach as I take in the sight of Maggie, slumped and pale on the kitchen floor. Just like Vee was…
No. No, not again. Please, no.
I run to her, not noticing the pool of blood until it’s too late.
The rubber soles of my shoes slip out from under me, and I fall to the tile like a stone, a heavy crack ringing out as the back of my head slams into the floor. Stars spark in my vision as I fight to sit up, but every time I place my hand on the tile to push up, I slip back down into the growing puddle of blood.
Giving up, I roll onto my stomach and claw the rest of the way to Maggie, desperate to stop the bleeding so I can save her. My vision tilts as I reach out to her, finding her skin far too cold. Too lifeless.
What the fuck is going on?
Blinking against the fog crowding my vision, I desperately check Maggie’s body, trying to find the source of the bleeding. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t find a single wound, nick, scratch, nothing. But the blood flows, and flows, and flows, and I know I’m running out of time.
“Magoo!” I slap at her pale cheeks, not even caring that I’m getting blood all over her face. “Magoo, you have to wake up! You have to tell me where it hurts! I can’t help you unless I know?—”
My attention is drawn to the sound of a heavy gasp, and my stomach twists as I catch the eyes of my elderly neighbor standing in the doorway.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I never closed the door.
“I-It’s not what it looks like,” I sputter, clutching Maggie’s limp body to my chest. I have to stop the bleeding. Where blood flows, life goes. I have to dam the river to stop the stream. To stop the life from leaving my sweet Magoo.
“ What’s not what it looks like?” she asks, raising a weathered hand to her chest as her frown deepens. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
I blink, looking down at Maggie’s pale face clutched in my arms. “What are you talking about? Is this funny to you?” Something inside my chest breaks as I take in the expression on the woman’s face—like she’s looking at a crazy person. “Fucking call the ambulance! She’s dying! !” My voice is not my own, something deep-rooted and sinister pushing forth, stealing my tongue, my mind. Forcing me to see. To remember.
“Okay, okay. Just calm down…” She takes a step forward, approaching me like you would a snarling animal. “Does someone live with you, sweetie? Is there anyone I can call who can help you through this… episode?”
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “Wh—what are you talking about? Please, you need to call someone—my best friend is dying! ”
The woman raises a shaking hand, pointing at the frail girl in my arms. “Do you… do you think that’s a person?”
A jolt runs through my body, causing my vision to splinter. I blink, desperately trying to right the world as blinding, brilliant color sparks in front of my eyes. I look down at Maggie, a frown forming between my brows as her face melts away, revealing a navy-blue couch cushion.
What?
I blink again, and it turns back into Maggie. More confused than ever, I look toward my neighbor, only to have my heart fall from my chest at the sympathetic look in her eyes.
“Can’t you see her?” I whisper.
She just shakes her head, but I can’t look at that right now. I gaze back down at Maggie, a tear tracking down my cheek as I brush her bright red curls out of her face. “She always hated when her hair got in her face.” A choked sound accompanies the statement. I look up at the woman, surprised to find tears welling in her warm chocolate eyes. “One time she got so mad at it that she threatened to cut it all off.” I laugh, the sound hollow against my chest wall. “I told her she didn’t have the head shape for it. I should have… should have told her to do whatever made her happiest. I failed her.” I gaze down at the sweeping brush of her orange eyelashes. “ I failed you . I’m so… so sorry. ”
The woman kneels beside me, taking my palm in hers. “Who are you talking to, sweetie?”
“Maggie,” I whisper, unable to believe it. “My best friend, Margaret L’Amore. She… I don’t understand. She lives with me. We talk, we laugh, we watch TV. I’ve built my whole life around her. I—” The words die in my throat.
Because I’m remembering —and it all seems so clear. It was right in front of me the whole time. The way she never answered the door. The way she slept on top of her blankets. The tattoo of a shrike on my hip—a reminder of Maggie I’d gotten, but never knew why.
Even her agoraphobia—an illness I never remember her telling me about, yet one I always assumed she had because she never left the apartment or interacted with anyone besides me.
When I think back, I don’t even remember when she showed up at the apartment. One day, she was just… there. It all seemed so natural. So right.
I jerk my gaze to the left as the sound of tolling fills my head. Bells. Ringing bells.
Always bells.
“She… she’s not real . She never was.” My eyes widen as the horrible realization takes root at last. I look down at what I thought was my best friend, horror dawning on me when I realize it really was a pillow like she said.
“She’s dead. ”
“Who?” the woman asks. “Who’s dead, sweetie?”
“Everyone.” My face pales as the room swirls out from under me. “Everyone… but me .”