36. Pippa
PIPPA
From my room at the Roan Estate, I watch a spring breeze flutter across petals of blooming flowers in the beds below.
The landscape has exploded in a riot of color in the month we’ve been away.
I’m certain it’s due to Ruby, in addition to the normal ebb and flow of nature and the seasons.
She’s been working tirelessly to change the foundation of this place, to make Roan Island a home. And she’s succeeding.
But Tobias will never see it. My throat closes up, and I sniff.
The view is a contrast to the devastation and desolation inside me. At The Sanatorium it was easy to deny what Dr. Reter said about Toby’s death, but now it’s much harder. Nothing else explains why we couldn’t find him, why he’s not here with me now.
“You need to eat, Pippa.” Ruby’s voice is gentle, but firm. “To keep up your strength.”
I turn my head from the window to look at her. She’s standing an arm’s length away, her face filled with concern. I don’t know when she arrived. Did I let her in? How long has it been since Shemaiah left me here in my rooms?
Ruby walks to my side. “Shemaiah’s worried. He wanted me to check on you.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s with Noah and asked me to make sure you have everything you need.” Ruby tilts her head to study me.
I make a derisive noise. I can’t have everything I need. Everything I need is Tobias. And Shemaiah. And they’re not here.
“Shemaiah told me about your son,” Ruby says softly. “I’m so sorry. I can’t begin to understand what you’re feeling, but I don’t think shutting out those who care about you is the right course of action. When my sister died—”
I whirl on her.
She stops speaking but arches a single eyebrow, waiting for my rage.
I want to scream at her. I want to scream at all of them.
I want to scream until my throat is raw and bleeding.
But I don’t. I turn back to the window and watch a bird float into a tree where it’s building a nest. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll be fine.
I just need some time. Alone, if you please. ”
Ruby hums a resonant note. “Alright. But I’m here if you need me. We all are.”
When she’s gone, I linger at the window. The bird picks at the twigs in its nest, tugging on one long piece of twine it must believe is out of place. Its wings beat the air as it pecks the same spot over and over, ignoring the rest of the world.
I put my hand on the cool glass. I should have asked Dr. Reter where they buried Tobias. Are there birds singing there? Is the spot shaded by trees and decorated with blooming flowers, or is it cold and dank, like so much of New Essik?
He can’t really be gone. Can he?
I still feel his presence like a stamp on my heart. Surely I would know. Surely!
I hold the grief hostage in my chest, waiting for the moment when I’ll feel certain he’s gone.
I don’t scream or cry.
I wait and watch, numb to the world around me.
I’m not sure if minutes pass or hours. The bird outside the window is joined by another, both chittering away, swooping back into the sky and dancing around each other. I wonder if there are eggs in the nest or if they’re only just starting to build it.
My cheeks are damp, but I don’t bother wiping away the tears.
A knock raps at the door. I don’t answer.
It’s probably Shemaiah. The door’s unlocked if he wants to come in.
A creaking sound lets me know someone’s entered, but when I turn to look, it’s not Shemaiah.
It’s Mrs. Darning. The sight of her puts my teeth on edge.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was dead?” I ask through clenched teeth.
She was at The Sanatorium with Dr. Reter, and she never bothered going to New Caldon, so she must have known my son was gone.
She shows no reaction to my question, meeting me with an impassive indifference.
The anger I was denying a few minutes ago boils up into a bubbling rage.
How dare she keep this from me. “Why didn’t you tell me? !”
The severe woman doesn’t answer. She studies me from where she stands near the closed door, her hands folded in front of her like starched white sheets.
Her stark black dress with its high collar makes her seem like the perfect, respectable housekeeper.
But there’s something about her that repels me, something clothed in darkness and secrets.
“Is he?” She tilts her head like a bird of prey, her eyebrows arching like stark slashes across her pale skin.
“Dr. Reter said he died just after I came here.”
Her expression is as impassive as ever. “They lied to you.”
“You lied to me.”
She shakes her head. “Your son is alive.”
My breath catches. I fully intend to launch myself at her for her lies, except this lie is exactly what I want to hear. The words settle like glue inside my cracked bones, holding me together. I shake my head. “You expect me to believe you?”
“You want to.”
We stare at one another. “Why tell me this? Why give me hope?”
“I can take you to him,” she says, “but you have to come with me now.”
“Why?” My voice rises at the end, unable to hide my emotions. This doesn’t make sense. What does she want from me? “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t do that.” She turns away as if to leave. “It’s your choice if you want to see him again.”
Indecision battles within me. I don’t trust her, but I already know I’ll take the bait if there’s even a small chance she really can take me to my boy.
“Wait.” I dash across the room and grab her arm just as her hand reaches the doorknob. “Just let me get Shemaiah and—”
“No.” The force of that single word has my knees shaking. “He can’t come. I can sneak you in, but not him. I’ll take you to where they’re keeping your boy, but we do this my way.”
Questions rise inside me like the tide. Who has him?
I want to ask her why, how, where, when, but I can see by the set of her jaw she won’t answer.
She’s the only path to Tobias—if there even is one.
But a small kernel of hope is enough. This feels like a trap, but I’ll walk into any trap if it might save my boy.
“Fine.” I nod.
“Good.” She crosses to the wall where she pushes a fixture and the panel slides open to a secret corridor. I wondered many times if there were secret passages into this room. Now I know.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to The Sanatorium.”
“Shemaiah… everyone will worry,” I say, shrugging into my cloak. “Even if he can’t come, I should at least—”
“We must go now. You’ll be back before he realizes you’re gone. With your boy.”
After one last look at the room, one nervous doubt that this might not be a good idea, I follow her.
She leads me between walls, down narrow stairs until we’re spit out near the kitchen.
Darning peeks out before we exit, then we hurry outside.
Instead of going to the docks, I follow her down a side path.
The shadows stretch like skeletal fingers across the walkway as the sun descends.
Eventually, she leads me to a dilapidated dock where a small boat rocks in the water.
“Get in.” She steps aside, allowing me to pass.
The moment I get close, I see Kay and Anna tied up and unconscious in the bottom of the boat.
I whirl back toward Darning, but not quickly enough.
The bitterness of a rag pressed over my mouth causes me to sputter and stumble.
I try to fight against her, but I can’t.
The fumes burn my nose, making me dizzy.
There’s a pinch on my arm. And blackness descends.