20. Damage #2
With trembling hands, I stroke Shadow’s mane, seeking comfort like a child might.
Minutes bleed together as I try to make sense of what just happened, replaying the dream in my mind.
Her voice, her touch, her face shifting like smoke.
Was it even her? Caroline? Helena? My grip tightens, frustration surging as I squeeze my eyes shut.
The barn is quiet except for Shadow’s steady breathing and the soft creaks of the wood. The stillness presses down on me, but it’s better than the chaos inside my head.
“Silas?”
Eli’s voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts. My shoulders tense at the sound, and for a moment, I debate pretending I didn’t hear him.
“In here,” I manage, my lungs still fighting to catch a full breath.
His boots echo on the floor as he approaches, rounding the entrance to Shadow’s stall. The lantern in his hand casts a faint light over his face, lined with concern.
“What are you still doing out here?” he asks, his voice softer than usual.
I shake my head; the lie forming before I even know I’m going to say it. “Just came to check Shadow. Must’ve fallen asleep.”
Eli’s brow furrows, and he takes another step closer, the light shifting. His expression softens, sympathy swimming in his eyes. “Silas, it’s almost morning. Go back to your bed.”
I finally meet his gaze, the presence of my grief pressing against my ribs, threatening to crush me. The words come out before I can stop them. “I miss her so damn much, Eli.” My voice cracks, and I hate the weak and vulnerable sound of it.
Eli places a steady hand on my shoulder.
“I know you do,” he says, his tone heavy with understanding.
“Hell, we’ve all missed her. Caroline wasn’t just a part of your life, Silas, she was part of all of ours.
But maybe…” He hesitates, choosing his words carefully.
“Maybe it’s time to start making new memories. ”
I look away, the suggestion knotting something inside me. “I don’t know if it’s in me to do that,” I mutter.
Eli sighs, his grip on my shoulder tightening for a moment before he lets go. “I said new, Silas. Not different. New.”
His words frustrate me, hitting too close to the truth I don’t want to admit. “What the fuck are you rambling on about?” I snap, though there’s no real heat behind it.
He smiles, a faint, weary thing, and claps my shoulder. “You’ll eventually understand it. When you’re ready.” He steps back, turning toward the tack room. “Now go on inside. If you hurry, you can get another hour of shut-eye before Kiran wakes.”
I don’t argue, even though I know there won’t be any sleep for me. Not now. Not after that dream. I pat Shadow one last time, murmuring a soft “thanks, boy,” before dragging my feet toward the house.
Making my way across the yard, the first hints of dawn golden at the horizon. I’m steps from the house when I feel eyes on me. I glance back to see if Eli is behind me, but the yard is vacant. Then I move my eyes up.
Helena stands at her window. Curtain pulled back, looking straight at me, her features stagnant. I stand for a moment, waiting for her to step away, for the curtain to fall back into place like it always does. But this time, she stands vigilant. Our eyes locked, a fight of who will break first.
Then I feel warmth wrap around me. Gently at first, then it heats beyond what’s comfortable.
Sweat beads at my hairline, my shirt sticks to my chest. I watch Helena’s head tilt the slightest, watch as her eyes become inquisitive.
Meanwhile, my chest feels constricted, my breath hitches and my lungs burn.
I feel like I’m being consumed from the inside out.
My hand moves to my chest, the burn spreading throughout my body. I gasp for air once and then it all stops, leaving just as fast as it had set in. The morning chill returns; my lungs gather oxygen.
My eyes still on Helena, I stagger back a step, my hand still pressed to my chest. Her face doesn’t change though, her expression remains calm, almost detached, but her eyes. There's something knowing in them that sends a chill crawling up my spine.
She doesn’t move—doesn’t even blink.
The curtain stays pinned back in her grip, framing her like a ghostly portrait against the dim glow of her room.
Her hair tumbles over her shoulders, loose and wild, as if she hadn’t slept either.
I try to make sense of the look she’s giving me, but it’s slippery, shifting between curiosity and knowledge.
The burn that wrapped me, the fire that squeezed the air from my lungs, lingers in my memory. Was it real? Or is my mind still playing tricks on me?
"Helena," I whisper hoarsely, my voice swallowed up by the empty yard between us. I know she can’t hear me, but her head tilts again, as if in response. As if she knows exactly what I said.
I consider going inside, walking away from this strange standoff, but my legs refuse to move.
My hands curl into fists, the faint dampness of sweat on my palms irritating against the rough texture of my calloused skin.
For a moment, it feels as though the rest of the world fades away: the barn, the rising dawn, even the ache of grief that had followed me out here. There’s only her.
And yet, she finally moves.
Slowly, Helena lets the curtain fall back into place, breaking the connection. The fabric shrouds her figure until the window becomes a cold, reflective pane once more.
I don’t know how long I stand there, staring at that window.
The thought of heading inside suddenly feels impossible.
Shadow’s soft whicker echoes from the barn, breaking the spell.
I glance over my shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, I consider going back to the stables, letting the quiet company of a horse ground me again.
Instead, I drag my boots up the steps, shoulders heavy with the ferocity of that gaze still clinging to me. Once inside, I let the cool of the house’s shadow drape over me, closing the door softly behind me.
The stairs creak as I take them one by one, each sound too loud in the silence. My room offers no comfort. Caroline's chair stands like a sentinel in the corner, waiting for me to confront its presence, its emptiness.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, hands braced against my thighs, watching the sliver of pale dawn creeping through the curtains.
"What's happening to me?" I wonder, my voice cracking under the weight of too many questions I can't answer.
Outside, a soft wind stirs, and somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls.