Chapter 25
Emmerick
Ifrowned. Judging from the position of the moon, the night grew late. The wind picked up and lifted the pink petals of fallen blooms, twirling them through the air with ease.
The first snowfall of the season threatened the orchard. And she wasn’t home yet. Was she alright? Did she find somewhere else to stay? Was someone keeping her warm?
Grinding my teeth, I watched the road and continued to wonder why her schedule had changed. This week, my parents should have arrived for dinner. Maybe they’d made other plans. Hopefully, she was with them.
I slumped against a tree trunk and sank down onto the cold, hard ground.
I couldn’t feel it, anyway. That sense of being tethered here and yet not able to react to anything had grown frustrating.
With the noose of anger that Caym had kept on me gone, I had plenty of time to sit and reflect. And sit.
So fucking tiresome. I’d lost count of the days.
In the distance, a carriage stopped and turned around.
A figure in a recognizable purple wool coat bumbled down the dirt path to Lamoreaux.
Elsedora held her boots by their strings as she clumsily approached the entry.
She could feel the cold ground—and shouldn’t be walking barefoot at the crest of winter.
I sighed and stood. El hadn’t come home this intoxicated since the early days of my watching her. Something was wrong.
“You’re worrying me,” I breathed out into the wind, rubbing the back of my neck. Getting to witness her bad days and not being able to help was the worst part about this predicament.
Before she could get the door open, she vomited into a potted plant.
“Really worrying me.”
Her attention snapped toward me. She seemed to stare right at me.
“Else?” I called to her. Hope bloomed. Maybe she would finally hear me.
Her brow furrowed before she entered Lamoreaux and shut the door between us. A strained gargle left my throat, and I threaded my fingers through my hair, pulling at the temples.
I’d never been more tempted to haunt the halls of the estate. It felt too intrusive to enter her home without invitation, and with no way to let her know I was there. Snow fell in white floating flakes, catching on the plum tree branches.
Not an hour had passed before another carriage rattled down the path to the front gates. Even though I held no claim over her affection, I couldn’t stomach the thought of her inviting someone home with her.
A hulking form got out of the carriage’s cab. I recognized my father immediately.
“Where’s Mama?” I whispered aloud. Trailing my father to the door, I prepared to listen to their exchange, hoping all was well.
El’s nose was red and her eyes were bleary when she opened the door. I reached out, longing to take her hand—I’d tell her it would be alright, even if it meant lying.
Their conversation was brief. “Happy birthday.”
I felt gut-punched; who had made her cry on her birthday? How could I have forgotten the day?
My face dropped upon my father’s next words.
Mama was hurt.
I tried and failed to bang on the brick wall beside me to get their attention. A broken hip—it sounded serious, and my father’s sullen appearance offered me little relief from my worry.
“Will she be alright?” I gasped.
Elsedora’s expression mirrored my concern.
El grabbed my father’s hand and pulled him inside to go to Mama.
The door slammed behind them.
Unable to travel by Egress, and with the walk home a week-long journey, I stood frozen at her doorstep.
I now understood why Specters haunted the forest, turning travelers around to trick them into joining the spirits in death.
While not dead yet, I felt nearly as lonely and helpless.