Chapter 6 Aurora #2
There’s what a lupine is, and then there’s what people choose to see.
Some think it’s wild. Invasive. Too much.
Others see a flower tough enough to survive anything.
I wonder which one I’m supposed to be.
I lean back in my chair, my gaze drifting to the spider spinning an intricate web in the dark corner of my ceiling. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t imagining it. Maybe there really is something unseen, something dark, waiting in the shadows … and maybe it wants me.
A slow shiver rolls through me, but I don’t fight it. I should be terrified—of myself, of my reaction, of whatever invisible thing brushed against me tonight.
But I’m not.
Maybe I want to be wanted by something I can’t see, something I can only feel, something obsessed with me. The thought alone sends a delicious ripple through me, settling deep between my hips.
I close my eyes and exhale slowly.
“Get it together, Hagan. You’re a fucking adult,” I grumble.
I groan under my breath, tapping the trackpad to wake my laptop, then shift my focus to the next topic—hallucinations.
The results are a letdown compared to the possibly malevolent orgasm ghost still haunting my frontal lobe.
Drugs.
Certain plants.
Sleep deprivation.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
But schizophrenia?
My pulse stutters as I click the link.
Schizophrenia can be hereditary. My mother … she never had a diagnosis. But she had episodes. They weren’t frightening. Not like the descriptions I’m reading now. Hers were … softer.
She spoke to my grandmother, who died before I was born, like they’d just caught up over coffee that morning. She’d pass along messages from Gram, her eyes glowing with quiet joy.
My father and I never questioned it. It was harmless and it made her happy. Who were we to take that away from her?
My mother was fucking magical.
Some days, I miss her so much it hurts to breathe.
I suck in air through my teeth, sidestepping the old ache that never quite left after she died.
There’s only one person who can help me sift through the shit in my head.
Dad.
Reluctantly, I grab my phone and press the call button, chewing the inside of my cheek while it rings.
Just as I decide to end the call, his voice crackles through the speaker.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty! How are things in the mountains? Have you seen any Bigfoots yet?”
I didn’t realize until this very second how much I miss my dad and his terrible sense of humor. I hate being this far away from him. Even though he goes out with friends regularly, he’s still alone. But he knew how miserable I was at my old job, and he fully supported my move.
We grew closer after my mom died, so I’m bracing myself for how he might react.
“Hey, Dad. I hope I didn’t wake you up. How are you? Are you eating enough?”
I need to know he’s okay. I need him to be happy and healthy. I just … need him to be around as long as possible.
“Of course you didn’t wake me up. You and me?
We’re night owls, SB.” His voice is warm and teasing.
“And yes, Mother, I’ve been eating, but mostly at the club with Bill and Julie.
I know I should eat at home more, but I’m still adjusting to living in this house alone. So, when they go out, I go out.”
Shit, ripping my heart out and stomping on it would’ve hurt less.
“No, I get it, Dad. Just promise me you’ll have a salad or two this week to balance out all the fried food and beer. Okay?”
“Fine, salads with bacon and fried chicken for dinner tomorrow night!”
His booming laugh is so loud that I move the phone away from my ear.
“So, what’s up, princess? You never call this late unless something’s wrong.”
He’s already worried.
And yeah, maybe he should be.
This is going to be a hell of a lot harder than I thought.
“Well, I was wondering about mom and her, um … episodes? When she spoke with Gram? I just read things like that are hereditary and was wondering if you knew if Gram was the same way and if you think I could be …”
Different.
A heavy pause stretches between us.
“Aurora.”
My stomach tightens. My father rarely uses my proper name.
“I’m not sure how much I can help you with this.
Your mother was very insistent that we never talk about what you call her ‘episodes.’ And I respected that.
Always have. But I promised myself after she died that if you ever asked, I’d tell you what little I know.
Your mother was everything to me. I loved her so much—quirks and all. ”
His voice goes soft, like he’s slipped sideways into a memory. I can almost see her—laughing, alive, still beside him.
That kind of love? Most people never even get close.
“I loved her, too, Dad.” I press the phone to my cheek, breath fogging the screen. “Her episodes or quirks or whatever never bothered me. If anything, they made me feel loved. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I don’t want to upset you, it’s just …”
How do I even put tonight into words?
It was nothing.
And yet very much something.
“You saw something, didn’t you, Aurora?”
His voice isn’t concerned.
It’s knowing.
Like he’s been waiting for this.
“I … did.”
Shit.
“I really don’t want to get into the specifics, but I felt something strange when I was out with Eve tonight.
Then, when I got home, Louie was acting weird.
She wouldn’t eat her food or go outside for her evening run.
And when I was on the porch waiting for her, it felt like someone was watching me.
I could hear things in the woods—things that didn’t sound like any animal or human. ”
Ugh, hearing it out loud makes it worse.
It’s not just in my head anymore. Now it’s real.
I wouldn’t blame my dad if he patted me on the head and told me to check under my bed for monsters.
Honestly? I want him to.
Because if he doesn’t dismiss this, if he doesn’t brush it off …
It means I’m not imagining things.
It means there really is something in the woods or haunting the shitty dive bar.
There’s silence on the other side of the phone, and I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting for his response.
“Well,” my dad finally says, his voice still quiet, “assuming your mom will understand and not haunt me the rest of my life, I’ll tell you what little I know. It’s not much, princess, so don’t get too excited. But it might ease your mind a little.”
The next pause is heavier.
I get the sinking feeling he isn’t going to tell me what I want to hear.
“I just need you to understand something first.”
I swallow so hard I can hear it. “Okay.”
“The world isn’t always what it seems.” He slowly exhales, choosing his next words with care. “It’s beautiful and strange and so much more than the boring shit we do every day.”
There’s something in his tone that unnerves me.
He’s not just humoring me. He knows.
And suddenly, I’m not so sure I’m ready to hear it. Still, I don’t want to shut him down either. Not if he’s really about to tell me something real.
“Dad, I understand if you don’t want to talk about this. I guess I was just scared and wanted someone to tell me everything’s okay …”
“Everything is okay, princess. I want to share this with you. Especially if you’re scared.”
I expect him to reassure me. To say I’m just stressed. Sleep deprived. Imagining things.
Instead, he launches into a story that leaves me questioning everything.
“Your mother and her mother were very special people.” His voice is steady, but there’s weight behind it.
“They were similar in many ways, but only your mother ever claimed to see things others couldn’t.
And I can’t say for certain your mom spoke to your Gram after she passed.
I can, however, tell you about something your mother and I experienced. ”
This is not what I was expecting.
“It was the moment I realized there’s so much more to this world than what we see every day.”
His words send a chill skittering down my spine.
“As you know, your mother and I honeymooned in Iceland in the dead of winter. I was not on board with this. I wanted to go somewhere warm, sit on a beach, and ogle your mother in a bikini.” His chuckle is soft, nostalgic. “But I could never say no to Ellie.”
He pauses, and I hear the faint sound of a tissue against his nose.
Shit, I made him cry.
Thankfully, he keeps going, his voice thick with love.
“When we planned our wedding and our honeymoon, your mother had it in her head that we had to be in Iceland when the Northern Lights were on display. It was something she’d dreamed of seeing since she was a child, so we planned everything around those damn lights.”
I can practically see her—eyes lit up, hands clutched to her chest, body humming with that wild, contagious joy.
“When we arrived, we did all the touristy things, but what your mother truly looked forward to was a quiet night in the middle of nowhere, watching the beautiful aurora light up the sky.
“It took us freaking hours to get there, and by the time we arrived, I was in a shitty mood. Your mom bounced around the tent, completely ignoring me, while she impatiently waited for nightfall. When I think about it now, it was so fucking adorable it makes my heart ache.”
He lets out a breath, one that sounds like it’s traveled years to get here.
“I didn’t see it that way then. I just grumbled something about needing a nap and passed out.”
Then his voice shifts. It’s a subtle change, but it’s there.
“When I woke up hours later, your mother was gone. We were in a tent, in the middle of the Icelandic wilderness. I stumbled outside, thinking she’d just wandered off.
But … there weren’t any footprints. Not a single one.
Just untouched snow. In every direction.
It was dark, and I was in a blind panic. ”
My dad chuckles to himself. I know it’s meant to lighten the mood, but it does the complete opposite.
“I’ve heard about your honeymoon before,” I say carefully, shifting forward in my chair. “And I knew you spent a night in the mountains to see the Northern Lights … but this part? This is new.”