Chapter 12
LEAVING AGAIN
Jude sits at the piano, framed inside the large, recessed window of the music room. His fingers move effortlessly across the keys, creating music so beautiful it makes my chest ache. I don’t think I take a proper breath until the song ends.
The room goes quiet except for the fire crackling in the grate.
“She didn’t disintegrate,” I say.
He turns and spots me in the doorway, wearing a puffer vest and a beanie, holding Simon’s journal.
Last night, I reread every entry.
Twice.
I glance over my shoulder to make sure neither Tulane nor Jude’s stepmother, Isabel, are nearby.
“I finally got a reply from Megan Carlisle, and she didn’t say anything about blowing up or combusting into flame.
I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure she’d remember something like that, which means our theory can’t be right.
Assuming she’s a regular human, which I think is a pretty safe assumption to make, humans can survive inside the Overlay. ”
I sit down on the settee and place the journal on the coffee table.
Jude joins me, his gaze shadowed like he didn’t sleep any better than I did.
“They were in the hedge maze when they passed into the Overlay, just like my mom and Simon their first time. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”
Jude rubs his jaw. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“She said they heard howling. When I had that vision of my mom? I heard howling, too.”
He sets his phone beside the journal.
Last night’s story is still fresh in our memory.
“I think I remember seeing hounds, but I’m not sure.” I let out a frustrated growl. “I should have written it down. Recorded it in my own journal.”
Our memories are too easily altered.
Our minds love to edit the past.
Which means now, there’s no way of knowing.
For the life of me, I can’t remember if the hounds were there in the original vision, or if my subconscious simply added them to the dream that has been plaguing my sleep.
I slide my hands into the pockets of my vest and hunch over my knees. “I saw Rafe again.”
Jude snaps to attention beside me.
“I was going to tell you last night, but then…” Ivy Winslow’s body was found.
The thought makes me shudder. “It happened on Friday, when I was working at Evermore. The lamp in the reading nook turned on. I went back there to check it out. Lightning struck. And there he was, a reflection in the window.”
“You’re sure it was Rafe?”
“He didn’t look very good, but yeah, it was definitely Rafe. And he said Lainey isn’t Lainey.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no idea.”
But now, with Ivy turning up dead? The unknown meaning of it feels all the more ominous.
“I’m not sure we should trust anything Rafe has to say,” Jude says.
“Even Reflection Rafe?”
“Especially Reflection Rafe.”
Fire pops in the grate.
Flurries continue to fall outside.
There’s no real accumulation, just a faint dusting on the ground.
“What’s going on, Jude?” I ask, turning to look at him—really look at him. “We saw what happened to them when they were pulled through the rift. Now Lainey is alive and Ivy was found in the river, seemingly intact? Meanwhile, Rafe’s ghost is haunting me in reflections.”
His eyes darken.
“And I keep dreaming about my mother, running through the woods.” I worry my bottom lip. “Mistress Bramble said I woke a great hunger.”
“That was part of her story.”
“She was looking right at me.” I pick up Simon’s journal and fiddle with the clasp. Finally, I say it. The thing I haven’t yet said out loud. Not to Jude or Twig. “And it was me chasing her. I was the monster.”
“Selah…”
His phone screen lights up on the coffee table.
He scoops it up quickly, like he wants to hide the screen, but he’s too late.
I’ve already caught a glimpse of the sender.
I’ve already processed the number. The message came from the retired professor in Ohio—the same one Jude visited right before Halloween. “Why is the curse expert texting you?”
Color rises high in his cheeks as he pockets his phone. “I sent her a message.”
“About what?”
He shrugs uncomfortably.
And understanding dawns.
Lainey is back.
Possibly Rafe.
He’s worried the curse might return, too.
“Jude,” I say softly.
But he looks so troubled.
Haunted, even.
I unzip my vest and move the collar of my shirt aside, showing him my clavicle, where Seraphina’s mark once was. A symbol of my impending doom. “It’s gone.”
His eyes burn as he takes in the spot.
“And it’s not coming back,” I say.
He shoots me a crooked, sheepish smile. Then he lowers his lips to my collarbone.
Heat blooms beneath my skin.
Curling my fingers into his hair, I pull his mouth to mine.
He wraps his arm around my waist. His other hand slides up my back.
And as we sink against the settee, I think my heart might explode.
But then my phone vibrates in my pocket and Jude stops.
He pulls back, his eyes cloudy with desire.
They hold mine for a moment, then he turns away and sets his elbows on his knees.
The message is from Harper.
A group text to me, Naomi, and Twig.
School just posted on Insta. Vigil for Ivy tonight at 7 on the football field. Sounds like everyone’s going?? We didn’t know her that well but ugh this whole thing feels awful.
I give my throat a clear, my skin still flushed. “There’s going to be a candlelight vigil tonight for Ivy.”
“I can’t go,” he says, scrubbing his hand down his face. “My grandfather’s in the hospital.”
“Your grandfather?” My brow furrows. Jude’s grandfather is dead. His death is the whole reason Jude came here in the first place, the last surviving heir of the Vandenberg family. Sole recipient of this sprawling estate. “But I thought—”
“My mother’s father,” he clarifies.
“Oh.” I blink several times, trying to process this information. Jude has never mentioned family on his mother’s side before.
“He doesn’t have any other family but me, and it sounds like he’s reaching the end. I know the timing is horrible, but I really should visit him.” His voice is hollow, devoid of emotion. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t feeling any.
“Where does he live?” I ask.
“Seattle.”
“Washington?”
“I’m heading out this afternoon.”
A selfish piece of me objects. He just got back and now he’s leaving again, to Washington? But I squash the whiny protest. Of course he should go. It’s his grandfather. “I’m sorry he’s sick.”
“We aren’t very close.”
“I’m still sorry,” I say, setting my hand on his back.
Jude sets his chin in his hand, then he turns to look at me. The shadows beneath his eyes resemble faint bruises. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. A few days, give or take. But can you promise me something before I go?”
“Of course.”
“If anything happens—if Rafe makes another appearance or you find a second glowing seed—let me know right away?”
“Sure.”
“Selah.”
I take his hand. “I’ll let you know. I promise.”
It’s a lie, though.
Jude’s grandfather is sick in the hospital. I don’t care if Ivy herself walks into AP Lit tomorrow with Rafe by her side, I’m not going to interrupt the little time he has with his last remaining relative.