Chapter 60
Chapter Sixty
HOOK
I need to move.
We need to move.
I step back, turning toward the window again, trying not to think about what I just did. If I let myself think about it, I might do it again.
And I can’t do that.
She doesn’t deserve it.
And this isn’t the time or place.
I didn’t come here for this.
“We need to go,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean it to be.
Alice doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her watching me. She doesn’t push. Doesn’t question.
I glance out at the woods beyond the glass. The air looks clearer now, the red mist from the field pulling back, or maybe it’s just me. Maybe something in my head has shifted. I’m not even going to start unpacking whatever the fuck that means.
“I think we should go outside,” I say. “Try to get to those gates.”
Still, she says nothing.
So I do what I do best—I push forward.
I adjust my coat, check for my useless knife, and head for the door.
This is what I know.
Not standing still.
Not lingering in the wreckage of something I shouldn’t want.
I press my ear against the wood, listening.
All I hear is the sound of my own damn heartbeat, loud and useless in my chest. Fuck that thing. It doesn’t know. It doesn’t understand.
And the only thing it’s going to do is get me killed.
Or worse—get her killed.
I push the handle down slowly, ready to shove the door shut if that thing is outside waiting for us.
Cool air seeps through the crack, raising the hairs on my arms.
“I think we’re clear,” I say.
I open the door and step outside, scanning the area. I motion for Alice to follow, and we both step out into what feels like morning light. I’ve woken up enough times at dawn to recognise it, to know exactly what it is.
The sky is shifting. Still dark, still that murky hour before it’s fully morning, but hints of light streak across the horizon.
Time is strange here. It’s fast one moment, slow the next. But this isn’t the place to try and make sense of which way is up and which way is down.
This is Wonderland.
I listen.
Nothing.
No footsteps. No twigs snapping. No snarling. That’s the sound I’d be listening for the most. The silence is a gift.
As much as a part of me wants to shove Alice back inside and keep her there, I know I can’t.
No matter what I feel. No matter what I want.
The mirror said it.
She is the key.
I step out further, and Alice follows, both of us moving cautiously as we make our way back toward the path we came from.
Maybe we’re far enough now. Maybe we can make it. If we get to the path, we can follow it to the gates. To the hill. And maybe—just fucking maybe—we won’t come face-to-face with that thing again.
No such damn luck.
A snarl rips through the air behind us, and we freeze.
We turn at the same time, and my stomach drops when I see it.
Fucking idiot.
Me.
My gaze locks onto the source of the sound—the bright yellow eyes, the shifting, shadowy figure pulsing in and out of view. It sits on the roof of the teapot-shaped house, lips pulling back to bare those jagged, gleaming teeth.
It didn’t leave.
It was waiting.