Chapter 21
SAGE
I wake up with a bone-deep chill. It’s like there’s a ghost hanging on my back and sucking all the warmth from inside me. The sun has set, and my room is pitch-black when I slip from underneath my blankets. I hit the switch on the wall for the lights before making my way to put some clothes on.
As I dig through my dresser drawers and comb through the clothes hanging in my closet, it feels like I’m looking through someone else’s clothing. Almost as if all of it has grown old and tired in the last few hours that I’ve been sleeping. None of it matches who I feel like I am now, here.
I start pulling stuff off hangers and letting them fall to the floor, desperate to get them out of my sight.
Once the floor of my closet is lined with light colored dresses and fancy tops, I heave a breath.
I pull a blue blouse from its hanger, fingering the intricate stitching around the neckline.
My mother bought me this just before she died—she told me the light sky-blue color would make my eyes stand out.
I toss it to the floor with a grunt. The next thing I grab is a Yves Saint Laurent dress my father gifted me for my birthday. I scoff as I squeeze it in my fist. The cream-colored material sends a lick of sadness through me.
This isn’t me anymore. I feel as if I’ve left the girl who would wear these clothes in the wind.
I go back to my dresser, leaving my discarded clothes on the ground, and pull out the black band tee I wear for working out and a pair of leggings. Getting dressed quickly, I make my way downstairs for some food.
My grandmother is in the living room, knitting and watching something on the TV, but I don’t say hello. I just walk past the door and go to the kitchen.
I find my dinner in the fridge, wrapped in foil, with my name written on top in permanent marker. I smile at the fact my grandmother went out of her way to save me a plate, even though I was a bitch to her earlier.
Pulling the foil from the plate, I find some sort of casserole underneath with a dinner roll. I pop it in the microwave and hit the automatic button for two minutes. While I wait, I grab my phone from where I left it yesterday on the counter and scroll through some of my notifications.
There’re a ton of texts from Juliet, and as I read through them, my gut flares with guilt.
JULIET
10:32pm:
There’s a Halloween party tonight, you in?
11:03pm:
Helllllooooo?
11:07pm:
I’m not going without you, but I also have the best scooby doo costume so call me!!!
12:00am:
Boo! Did I scare you? Happy Halloween.
12:26am:
Are you alive?
1:01am:
You’re with them… aren’t you?
1:02am:
They picked you.
I lock my phone again without answering, laying it face down on the counter when the microwave beeps.
How am I going to tell her? She hates them, that I know—she’s made it very fucking clear. But I never joined the I HATE THE HALLOWS BOYS club she seems to be the sole member of, so does it really matter what I did?
Unless she finds out I’ve danced with the devils and decides she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.
I sigh, pulling my dinner from the microwave. Grabbing a fork and my phone, I head back upstairs to eat.
My gran doesn’t look up from the TV when I pass the door, so I creep up the stairs and go to my room. Putting my plate down on my bedside table, I find a soothing playlist on my phone since I don’t have a TV in my room and shuffle it so I have something to occupy my mind while I eat.
I shovel the food in my mouth mindlessly, my legs crossed on my bed and my back curled over the plate. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started eating, and my body seems to say a silent thank you to me for finally giving it fuel after twenty-four hours.
When my plate is clean, I put it back on my bedside table and cuddle up in my blankets, resting my head back against my headboard and dropping my eyes closed.
After a minute, there’s a light knock, and when I look up, Gran is poking her head through the cracked-open door. “Sage?”
I give her a close-lipped smile, and she pushes the door all the way open and steps into my room. “Are you okay?”
She crosses the space, taking a seat at the end of my bed. I just shrug, words getting stuck in my chest when I try to answer her. I’m afraid I’ll start yelling and crying, so I decide silence is my best approach.
She presses her palms together in her lap, her lips twisting to the side like she’s contemplating what to say next.
“I want to be able to give ya answers, darlin’. I just don’t know if I’ll have the ones you’re lookin’ for.” She sighs, her gaze connecting with mine.
Shaking my head, I shuffle my hips a little so I can sit up straight. “Just tell me what you know, Gran, please. I just need something. Anything.”
She sighs. “Why don’t you ask me what you wanna know, and if I got the answer, I’ll tell ya.”
I nod. “Okay.” I flip through the millions of questions that I have in my mind, trying to find the ones that are the most pressing, but they all seem important. I swallow thickly. “Is my name Sage?”
She smiles at me, her voice soft. “Yes, baby. You were born Sage Grace Blackmore, January 14th, right down the road at Blackmore Hospital. Your daddy’s family founded our town way back in 1812—they were a big an’ powerful family, loaded with property and money.
Your mama and daddy didn’t want ya growin’ up here, so they took you away right after you were born. ”
I search her gaze—eyes that are so identical to my mother’s—and find honesty sitting in them. “But why? Why leave? Why change our name?”
She blows out a heavy breath. “I wish I knew, Sage. Last time I talked to your mama was the day she left for California. She said she wanted a different life, then just disappeared. Never called or visited again.”
“You never tried to find them?” I bite onto my top lip, hoping my question doesn’t come across as accusatory.
She presses her lips together for a moment in thought. “No use lookin’ for people who don’t wanna be found, darlin’. I ain’t gonna chase someone who doesn’t want me to. I loved your mama, but she chose her path, and that was your daddy.”
I shake my head, looking down at my hands in my lap as I pick at my fingernails. “I just don’t understand, Gran.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her watching me as silence cloaks the room. My eyebrows pull down, and I look back at her to find her kind eyes.
“What were they like before they left? When you knew them?”
The corner of her mouth kicks up in a smile.
“Happy. Two damn fools in love since the day they met.” She chuckles under her breath and continues.
“I warned your mama about them bad boys, but she didn’t listen—never did, your mama.
She was as stubborn as they came, and she went and fell in love with the baddest of ’em all.
Your daddy was always gettin’ himself into trouble in one way or another, always hidin’ out in that cemetery with his friends. ”
Yeah, creating a fucked-up and twisted Game. I want to say the words, but I don’t. I just let her continue.
“Your mama changed him, though. No one saw it comin’.
She touched him with the sugar that ran through her veins and sweetened him up.
Cleaned up his act and put him on a better path.
Then they got pregnant with you, and nine months later, you were here with us.
They were so happy when you were born, Sage. You hung the moon in their damn sky.”
Tears lick at the backs of my eyes, so I close them and try to picture my parents’ faces while she continues.
“Your mama was made for more than this little town, baby. And your daddy’s family had the money to take ’em far away. I always wondered if it had to do with him bein’ the last Blackmore. Maybe he didn’t want what came with the name here, but we’ll never know now.”
My vision is blurred with tears when I open my eyes again, but seeing my grandmother’s face beaming with happiness as she digs back into her memory makes my chest warm.
“I wish I had more I could tell ya, Sage. I really do. But I hope you can sleep a little easier knowin’ that they were good people, and they loved you more than anythin’ else on this earth.
” She stands up, stepping toward me and putting a hand on my shoulder.
“And don’t think we ain’t gonna talk about where you were all night. I’m old, but I ain’t stupid.”
A laugh bubbles up inside of me at that, and when she raises her eyebrows, I wipe my tears as laughter fills me. She clicks her tongue, squeezing my shoulder once more before turning and leaving my room.
When the door has clicked shut behind her, I grab my phone and start deleting everything, because if Sage Lindman no longer exists, I don’t want any proof she ever did to begin with.
I start with all my social media accounts, deleting each and every one without a word to anyone, and then I scroll through the hundreds of photos saved to my camera album.
Tears slip down my face as I swipe through, bombarded with memories of my old life, my friends, my family. I press my eyes closed, saying a silent goodbye to all of it—including Sage Lindman.
Because I am Sage Blackmore. I can feel it deep in my soul.
I delete every single photo on my phone, then all my contacts, promising to refill this same phone with new memories—here, in Blackmore. Right where I fucking belong.
The next morning, I wake up feeling a little more confident. Almost as if I metaphorically wiped the slate clean and woke up in my true form.
After a burning-hot shower to shock my system and soothe my aching muscles, I dig through my dresser once more for something that feels me.
I decide to cut up a black T-shirt, slitting the fabric to show off my cleavage as well as cropping it to expose my belly button. I pair it with some fishnet stockings I had left over from an old Halloween costume and some ripped, black denim shorts.