Chapter 4
SECRET TREASURES
An abrupt tap, tap, tap sounds from my bedroom window.
The noise breaks through my slumber. I blink my eyes open, looking around the room for what had awoken me.
Rain is splattering onto the floor from the window I carelessly left open.
I rub the sleep from my eyes as I make my way to it.
The effects of the very deep sleep have me stumbling.
Thunder crashes loudly, and I begin pulling it closed quickly.
My feet slide against the wet floor as movement catches my eye.
Down on the driveway, Torin races by heading towards the main road.
His shoulders are rigid as he screams Gran’s name over the noise of the rain.
Fear slices through me, and I fly from the window, hurriedly throwing on clothes.
I tie my hair up as I take the stairs two at a time, flinging myself out the front door.
Torin’s voice manages to carry down the driveway from where it connects to the main road. My pulse races, and every fear I’ve ever had about Gran being lost or hurt since her diagnosis whirls through my mind. She must’ve woken up in a fog and left the Hall without telling anyone.
Terror begins gnawing at my chest.
Not again. Please, I can’t lose anyone else.
It’s too soon, we still have time.
My clothes are entirely soaked through from the pouring rain, and I use my hand to shield my eyes from the downpour. The repetitive, gravelly caw of a raven in the wooded area has me whirling around. Not now. The sound is unusual—like a cry for help.
The wind causes the limbs of the trees to sway, and like a mirage, Gran materializes between them. She steps out behind a large oak tree, still dressed in her pale pink nightgown that clings to her frail body.
“Gran!” I call loudly while waving frantically.
She briefly looks my way before turning to walk between the field and the wooded area, not at all perturbed by the storm. I yell at Torin, and he turns towards me. I throw my arms over my head and begin pointing to where Gran is.
Luckily, he catches my meaning and begins to jog my way, but I’m already moving towards her. My footsteps kick up water and mud as I race across the driveway.
She’s covered head-to-toe in splattered mud, and her eyes whirl around wildly. I approach her slowly, as one would approach a cornered animal.
“Gran, it’s me, Lena.”
Her wild gaze finds my face. “Bryn! They’re gone!”
“Gran … Bryn isn’t here right now; I’m Lena, your granddaughter,” I reply hesitantly, not wanting to trigger her and hoping it will calm her down.
Her body trembles, her nightgown ill-equipped for the rain. I need to get her inside. Who knows how long she’s been out here?
“You must go. She has to stop them. Bryn!” She raises her voice louder and begins throwing her arms around in weird movements, like she’s drawing something in the air.
Slowly, I take another step closer as Torin reaches my side.
“Gran, it’s alright, you’re safe here. Come with us to the house. We’ll get you cleaned up,” I speak slowly and softly.
Gran flicks her gaze to Torin, and relief floods her features. “Oh, Torin, she has to be safe.”
Gran cries and flings herself into his arms.
Torin wraps his arms around her and rubs a soothing hand down her back. He murmurs, “Aye, Adi, we’re all safe. Let’s get ye dry and cleaned up, shall we?”
They turn together and make their way back to the house.
Torin wraps an arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the rain, and she nuzzles into his side.
My knees find their way to the soggy grass, and my arms wrap around my chest, trying to hold the pieces of myself together, but a sob escapes.
The adrenaline rush begins waning, and the emotions I’ve worked so hard to hold at bay are now breaking to the surface.
I bury my face in my hands and let the grief, fear, and shame flow. The rain mixes with my tears, and I let myself grieve for all that I’ve lost.
This is all my fault.
I should’ve been up earlier, and this wouldn’t have happened. A breath hiccups out of me, and it’s an effort to inhale normally again. Where is Lizzie? What if she had been hurt? What if we couldn’t find her? She’s all I have left now. I exhale and try to push all the negative feelings out.
Trying to calm myself down, I take slow, measured breaths, letting the rain wash everything away.
Just as I’m beginning to piece myself back together, a truck door slams, breaking my concentration. A very worried-looking Lachlan rushes towards me, holding the collar of his coat above his head.
“Did ye find her?” he calls, jogging towards me. I can only manage a nod in confirmation. He wraps me up in his arms. The strength in them warms my trembling body. “Are ye okay?”
Trying with all my might to keep my voice from breaking, I mutter, “It’s all my fault.”
The dam breaks again, and another sob escapes.
Lachlan soothingly shushes me as he strokes a hand down my back, much like Torin did for Gran. We stay locked together for a long time while my sobs finally subside, my tears drying up.
“It’s just a bad day; tomorrow will be better,” he whispers into the top of my head.
I’m still lost in the darkness of my despair. “And if it’s not?”
He pauses and pulls back to look me in the eye. His face is the picture of strength, and his eyes are brimming with an emotion I don’t recognize.
“Then say it again.”
Those four words sparks a delicate, tiny flame of hope in my chest. I inhale slowly, fully, finally feeling like I can breathe again.
Squeezing me tightly once more, he kisses the top of my head before letting go, interlocking our fingers, and pulling me back to the house.
The intimacy warms my bones and chases away the lingering chill of the rain.
It doesn’t feel foreign, but almost as if we’ve done this a thousand times before.
We’re halfway back to the house before I remember the raven that essentially saved Gran, and I turn to search for it. The tug on Lachlan’s hand has him stopping with me.
He turns to me and asks, “Forget something?”
“There was a raven …” I trail off, realizing how incredibly stupid it would sound to tell him a bird helped me find Gran. He raises his eyebrow, waiting for me to finish.
“Never mind. Thank you again for being here.”
I reach for his hand, and he smiles, taking my hand and leading me back to the house. The rain eases into a light drizzle as we make our way inside. I slip my boots off by the door and tread carefully, my wet clothes and hair leaving droplets in my wake.
Inside, we find Torin sitting at the bottom of the stairs, a comforting arm draped over Lizzie. My terror returns, rising from the gloom, but Torin blurts out, “She’s just upstairs. She went to shower and change.”
I sigh deeply.
Lizzie murmurs, “She’s lucid, not completely, but enough that I thought she could handle showering on her own without getting hurt.
I’m so sorry, Lena, I didn’t even hear her wake up this morning.
” Her hazel eyes are lined with silver, her slight frame trembling with the effort of holding back tears.
Lizzie has never missed one of Gran’s wake-ups since coming to live with us.
I try my hardest to keep my own emotions in check, but I am not quite ready to reassure her.
Trudging upstairs, I find Gran’s door is ajar, and she is nestled under her cerulean sheets and floral quilts.
Her room is the mirror image of mine, but where mine is shades of purple, hers is shades of blue.
She lies on her side, facing me, and holds out a hand when I enter.
Her clean pink nightgown slides up her thin arm at the motion.
I’m relieved that she managed to shower and put on a clean set of clothes.
I sink onto the floor in front of her bed, grasping her outstretched hand between both of mine.
“I’m sorry I gave you a fright this morning …” she trails off. I realize it’s because she doesn’t remember my name.
“That’s alright, Gran, how’re you feeling?” I ask, hoping my use of “Gran” will put her at ease.
“Exhausted. I’m afraid my fire has gone out, and I need sleep.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll cancel your therapies today,” I whisper, leaning forward to brush a light kiss on her forehead. A final phrase slips through her lips. “You need to go home, Lena.”
Before I can question her, she’s already breathing deeply.
Lizzie is standing in the hallway, right outside the door. She hugs herself with sweat-clad arms while her head hangs limply; she’s really beating herself up. I pat her shoulder as I brush by. She bites her lip and slips into Gran’s room.
My footfalls are nearly silent as I pad down the hall towards the stairs.
The faint sounds of Torin’s and Lachlan’s voices carry up to the second floor.
They’re in a tense conversation by the tone of their voices, and only bits of their words reach my ears.
I quietly move closer to see if I can hear any more.
The only words I can make out are “dangerous son,” from Torin, and “job,” from Lachlan.
A loud creak sounds from under my foot. Stupid old wooden floors. I hold my breath. But it’s obvious they heard me when their conversation ceases. Not wanting to seem like I was totally just eavesdropping, I call down to them, taking the steps quickly.
“Well, she’s out and doesn’t want to do any therapies today, so Lachlan, you don’t have to stay. I think I can manage while she’s out.”
Torin simply nods his head and walks out the front door.
But Lachlan turns to me and says, “Nae, we can hang out. Just the two of us while she rests.”
His smile causes my pulse to race for a different, happy reason, and my feet stumble on the stairs.
I want to rush to him, but I catch myself and slow down on the last few steps.
I come to a halt right before I reach the bottom.
“Well, we can’t do much; I don’t want to leave the house so I can listen for her. ”