Chapter 17 #2
I bit my lip. It wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for. I could at least get my most burning questions answered now. “What kind of fever do they have?”
“Unfortunately, it’s still an enigma to us. We haven’t seen anything quite like it before. We’re still exploring the most effective means of treatment.”
“What are the symptoms?” I pressed, my fingernails biting into my palm.
“Primarily, high temperature accompanied by swelling of the throat and mouth. They’ve also had difficulty ingesting food, so we’ve been feeding them intravenously for the past couple of days.”
That sounded bad. “Have they shown any improvement at all?” I asked desperately.
She hesitated. “Put it this way: they are, at the moment, in a stable condition. Rest assured, we’re doing all we can to get them well.”
I ground my teeth, a surge of bitterness welling up in me.
I wanted to ask how I was supposed to take her reassurance seriously when, if it weren’t for their hospital, my parents wouldn’t be sick in the first place.
But I bit my tongue. It wasn’t the nurses’ fault.
They were doing what they could with the facilities they’d been provided.
Still, her words did nothing to settle the knot in my chest.
“O-Okay,” I managed. “I hope you’re right. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Alright, Miss Lockwood. Goodbye.”
I grimaced as I ended the call, lowering the phone.
My aunt tried to sound hopeful: “If they’re not getting worse, that’s something.”
“Maybe,” I said, rubbing my temples. “But it’s not the same as getting better.”
Hayden was quiet beside me, but I felt his eyes on me, steady, watchful, as if waiting to see if I’d hold it together. No one spoke as we left the gate behind, tension gathering in the space between all four of us.
At the end of the road, my aunt and uncle started down a set of stone steps. Hayden and I paused, the path ahead splitting off.
He glanced at me, cautious. “Still want to hang out?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t really feel like sitting around.” I glanced at him. “And I owe you a birthday present.”
His eyes flicked over, a wry look passing between us. “If you’re sure. I won’t be offended if you change your mind.”
I shook my head. “Not going to.”
My aunt looked back, checking on us. “Text us if you need anything,” she called. My uncle just lifted a hand in farewell.
When they were gone, Hayden arched an eyebrow. “So what’s the plan?”
I shrugged, fingers brushing the gift in my pocket. “You know this place better than I do. Anywhere else worth seeing?”
He considered, then gave a small nod. “I have an idea.” He jerked his head down the street. “That way.”
And that was that. We fell into step, moving away from Martha’s plush line of houses.
Hayden kept a quiet pace, hands in his pockets.
Every few steps, some thought of my parents tried to claw its way forward; I fought it back, not wanting to get stuck in that spiral of helpless worry.
There was nothing I could do until tomorrow.
The walk helped ground me in the moment.
After a long, sloping road, we caught a shuttle, which carried us out of town, past sleepy roads and hedge-lined gardens.
When we stepped off at a station called Beacon’s Point, the world seemed to widen.
Flower-strewn cliffs rolled down toward the ocean, sunlight pouring over the edge in sheets of gold and blue.
We walked toward the farthest tip of land, the ground sloping away on either side until we were perched at the very edge, with nothing but wind and sea stretching before us.
We sat among a smattering of wildflowers, sun on our backs, the air sharp with salt and the cries of gulls. Hayden dropped his bag to the grass and stared out at the horizon, jaw set, eyes distant, like he was listening for something only he could hear.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The waves smashed themselves against the rocks below. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, trying to decipher the expression on his face—hard and thoughtful, but not shut off. Just… somewhere else.
Eventually, I cleared my throat, pulling a small fabric ring from my pocket—embroidered with a tiny boat and a flash of orange for the sun. I hesitated, then held it out to him, palm up. “I know it’s not much, but… Happy birthday.”
Hayden glanced down, taking it from my hand, fingers brushing mine for perhaps a heartbeat longer than necessary. He turned the ring over in his palm, silent.
For a second I wondered if I’d misjudged—if it was stupid to offer anything at all—but he slipped it onto his free thumb, flexing his hand, testing the fit.
“It’s a better ring than what I gave you,” he said, but there was no trace of teasing. His gaze flicked to the gray band on my own hand, mouth set in a line. For a moment, I caught a glint of something raw in his eyes—gratitude, maybe, or regret. I couldn’t tell.
He traced the embroidery with his thumb, as if memorizing the feel of it. “Thanks, Tani.” His voice was quieter, stripped of its usual armor.
I shrugged, trying for nonchalance, but something in my chest felt tight. “Don’t mention it. Figured you could use a reminder of the sea.”
A faint smile flickered, then was gone. He looked back at the horizon, the sun catching the edge of his jaw, and for a while, that was enough.
As the afternoon slipped away, it became time to stop delaying what I needed to say.
“Hayden, before we go,” I began, catching his eye, “there’s something I need to mention.” I hesitated, my fingers grazing my gray ring. “Starting tomorrow, I’m going to try to carve my own path. I need to. These jobs aren’t enough. Not if I want to get anywhere.”
He blinked, then stilled—just enough for me to notice. “I figured you’d get tired of playing sidekick.” The corner of his mouth lifted, almost a smile, but not quite. “So what changed?”
I sighed. “I got a lead. Annabelle Springs. She says she can help.”
For a heartbeat, the mask slipped: Hayden’s jaw set, eyes narrowing, something almost electric passing through his expression. It wasn’t just concern. It was the alert, calculating look of someone who’s already imagining consequences.
“Springs?” he repeated, lower now. “She’s...” His voice trailed off as he pushed a hand through his hair. “You… You have no idea how fast things can change, dealing with people like her.”
My pulse spiked. “What do you mean? Do you know her?”
He shook his head, a muscle in his jaw tightening.
“Not well. Just… enough. Listen, you asked for advice? Here’s mine: Don’t ever forget who’s holding the leash in this place.
Especially if it’s Annabelle Springs.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a near-whisper.
“If she offers you a shortcut, look for the catch. Promise me you’ll trust your gut, not just her words. ”
The warning settled between us, sharp and heavy. I nodded, a strange mix of gratitude and unease twisting inside me. “I promise.”
He nodded once, the mask settling back in place. But his eyes lingered on mine, like he was weighing whether to say more, or just let me go.