28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dacre
“What are you wearing?”
Emma is standing in the harsh, glowing light of the bathroom, wearing a long nightgown that’s adorned with cats and sardines. She even brought cat slippers.
She spits in the sink. “Nope. You can’t make fun of me here. This is a shared, safe space. Besides, what do you wear to bed? A golden pajama set?” She peeks her head into the room. “Oh, right. Solid colored pajama pants and a T-shirt. The joylessness is on track for you.”
“Usually, I sleep shirtless.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“You don’t have to. We can make a pillow wall. This bed is huge.”
“I’m surprised you want to share a bed with me.”
“Well, I mean, you do smell really nice.”
As soon as she mentions smell, I’m reminded of the weird change in hers. Something is different about the way she smells, and with every hour that passes, it seems to be getting worse.
We settle into bed with a firm pillow wall between us. The beds at the estate are spacious, so I’m not worried about discomfort. But there is something strange about having another person lying next to me.
“Dacre . . .”
“Yeah.”
“Will you tell me about your sister?”
“Emma.”
“Please. I like to talk before bed, and . . . that’s the only person I know you like.”
I sigh.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll fill the silence some other way.”
“Fine. Florence is . . . a troublemaker, but I love her. I think you’d like her. She’s always been a little different.”
“You take care of her? Like her guardian?”
“Yeah, I, uh, I’m not her legal guardian, but she ran away a little less than a year ago, and I’ve been supporting her until she turns eighteen.”
“Why did she run away?”
“She wants to get away from our grandparents. They never understood her. Florence was a wild child in their eyes.”
“And what about you? What is your relationship with your grandfather?”
“It’s . . . complicated. I used to admire him a lot growing up, but now that I’m older, let’s just say I don’t enjoy his company.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you tired?”
I’m surprised she didn’t want the TV on or anything. The only sound is the ocean muffled close outside.
“Hmm. But I want to know more. I want to know everything.”
“I’ll tell you . . . if you ask.”
“Okay . . .”
“I’ll be here. I promise.”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah.”
“I hate sleeping alone . . . I miss talking to my sisters before bed. We all shared a room together, and I miss that feeling.”
The thought of all of them piled into a room with three beds makes me smile. I can’t imagine it with my brothers. We’d have killed each other.
“So this is nice, then?”
There’s a pause, and she whispers in her sleepy voice, “This is the best.”