“I’m sorry,” I said. All her words did was make me feel worse.
The paths crisscrossing the Great Lawn stretched empty; everyone else was in class. I fought against a strong wind as I hurried toward Frost House. Leaves swirled above me like the flocks of ravens in Hitchcock’s The Birds.
David still hadn’t answered my call. I needed to find him. I hadn’t told the dean about his part in this whole mess, especially not the fact that he might have been lacing the house with lighter fluid as we spoke, because I wanted to believe that he— we—could have a life together here at Barcroft for the rest of the year. A life without Celeste. If the dean knew he was going along with the whole haunted house thing, well, that wouldn’t be good. Maybe, just maybe, once he realized his sister was sick, he’d see that I’d actually helped save her. Maybe he’d see that I’d risked my own happiness to make sure she was safe. Maybe he would even realize it now. Maybe I wouldn’t have to wait.
My head was killing me. I searched the inside of my jacket pockets, in case I had any of my meds hanging around. Nothing. I’d get some at the dorm. Assuming it was still standing. No—that wasn’t really a concern—David hadn’t talked about burning down the whole place, and he certainly wouldn’t do it without telling me first, letting me get out the things that mattered to me. Still, I couldn’t help scanning the distance for any sign of smoke.
Branches swayed in front of the little house when I reached the driveway. My little old lady house. Vulnerable. But not on fire.
I opened the side door. The common room looked the same as ever; clueless as to what was going on around it. Waiting for us to come hang out and watch TV or make microwave popcorn. Or have another Sunday night dorm dinner. All the things I’d envisioned when we moved into Frost House. I automatically straightened the tapestry that covered the couch.
Once in the hallway, I heard the sounds. Objects moving, shifting, in Celeste’s room. I moistened my lips. It couldn’t be Celeste—she had classes straight through to lunch. And if the dean had called her immediately, she wouldn’t have come back here, would she? Would the dean call her? Or send people to pick her up at class in person? A vision of Celeste in a straitjacket flashed in my mind. Being carried out of her class, wrapped up like a lunatic.
Celeste’s door was closed. I kept my footsteps soft, so I could make it to my own room first and take at least a little something to help with this headache. The floorboards creaked and groaned.
Click. I stopped. The door to Celeste’s room opened. David stood there. His hair leapt out from his head in messy clumps. Circles of sweat darkened his shirt. From the look of the room he had been moving things out of her closet.
“Leen, hey. I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.
He opened his arms. My body fell into his. I was pulled in two directions. Pulled into his warmth, like I wanted to crawl under his shirt and hide there, as if I could be folded into his body and leave mine behind. But the buzz, the life I felt in his body also gave me strength to remember I’d done the right thing. Energy darted back and forth between us. When I felt the push rather than the pull I separated from him, taking that strength, feeling it in my bones. What I had to do now was a thousand times harder than what I’d already done. A million times harder.
“Did you get my message?” I asked.
“No. You called?” He patted his pockets. “Oh, right. My phone’s in my bag. I left it in your room. What’d you say?”
“Did you … did you need something in my room?”
“I borrowed a couple of tools.” He reached over to Celeste’s desk and picked up my hammer. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “I have a plan. I would’ve called but I figured you were in class all morning. Shouldn’t you be at math?”
“David,” I said. “It’s too late.”
“Too late? For what?”
I filled my lungs as if preparing to be submerged underwater. “I told Dean Shepherd about Celeste.”
His head jutted back slightly, his chin pulled into his neck. “You what?”
“If she’s not sick, they’ll find out. And if she is sick, she needs help.”
Now he stepped back completely; I could no longer feel the heat from his body. The hammer dangled from his hand. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I knew that you were too close to her to do it yourself. And it had to be done.”
“You told the dean everything?”
“Most of it. I didn’t tell her that you know. I thought … well, I thought it would be better to keep you out of it. Dean Shepherd might find it kind of odd that you believe all the haunted stuff, too.”
There were nails in his voice when he spoke. “What were you thinking?”
“We talked about this before, David. You know what I think. Celeste needs help.”
“I know she needs help. I’m the one helping her. That’s why I’m here.”
“Please, David. Please don’t be mad.” I wanted to touch him, but knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. I rested my hand on the desk, instead. “This isn’t the Dark Ages. They won’t just lock her up.”
“Shit.” He banged the hammer down with a jarring crash, barely missing my fingers. I snatched my hand back.
“This ruins everything,” he said. “What the hell do I do now?”
“David—”
“Shut up, Leena. Okay?”
He pushed by me, across the hall, into my bedroom. I leaned against the wall next to Celeste’s desk, pressed fingertips against my forehead. What had just happened? My whole body felt cold with dread.
I heard the sound of David putting his coat on, then metal jangling. He stood inside my room, near the door, where I’d hung my keys since the day Celeste gave me his room key. I assumed he was taking it back. Please don’t.
“I understand what you’re feeling,” I said, moving into the hall, closer to him.
He came out of my room, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his army jacket. “No you don’t. You don’t love your family the way I do.”
I froze. “What?”
His heavy lids narrowed his eyes into slits. His expression wasn’t just anger; it was disgust. “I would die for my sister. You … you don’t want anything to do with your family. You don’t even know what family means.”
“That’s not true,” I said, barely able to speak. It felt like he’d taken the hammer and driven a spike straight in my chest. “I love my family. And my … my friends are like family.” I did. I loved my family and friends—more than anything.
“Who? Viv? Abby? I don’t think so. And not me and Celeste, obviously. Unless you show your love through betrayal.”
Along with the throbbing pain in my ribs, a fire burned in my head, and coldness penetrated the rest of my body. Anger now. The voice echoed inside my skull. Cubby’s voice. The closet’s voice. Tell him, she said. Tell him, Leena.
“What about you?” I said. “You and Celeste are so bonded it’s creepy.” Tell him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the one who’s been hurting her.”
The words sucked the air out of the hallway.
David and I stared at each other. His lips parted, jaw slack. As shocked as I was that those words had come out of my mouth.
“You think I would hurt Celeste?” he said.
Did I?
Of course you do.
I shook my head to clear her words out. “No. I don’t know. I know it wasn’t some … some ghost.”
“How could you be so close to me, and think I would do that?” he said.
“I didn’t. I don’t.” My brain was spinning. Had I ever really thought that? I’d had my suspicions, but did I really believe he was capable of that? “I just don’t understand how you can think she’s not sick.”
“Because she’s not!” he said. “How could you be with someone you think might be abusing his sister? God, Leena.”
“I don’t think that. Really. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I did.” I wrapped my arms around myself.
I was shaking. “David, I told the dean because I’m worried about Celeste. I did it even though I knew it might mean I’d lose you. Doesn’t that tell you anything? I love you, but your sister is sick.”
David had started walking down the hall, toward the common room. He paused and turned his head slightly, so I was looking at his profile. Turn, I willed him. Meet my eyes. Let me know it will be okay. He didn’t.
“Who’s the sick one here, Leena?” he said.
He didn’t wait for an answer.
Chapter 40
A STRANGE CALM SETTLED over the hallway once the side door banged shut behind David. Okay. Okay. It had happened. My limbs tingled on the edge of numbness. I touched my arms. I was still there. I was alive. I touched my face. Dry. I did the same body check I’d done the one time I’d been in a car accident, making sure all of my parts were in their right places. Numb, but intact.
Okay. I was okay. I stumbled into the bedroom. Only, I couldn’t feel the floor under my feet.
Once I was back in the closet, physical sensations started to return. First, a sense of the mattress as it held my body, then of the clothes that dangled above and brushed against me. I curled into a fetal position, holding Cubby. As the feeling came back to my skin, though, I realized the numbness had penetrated all the way inside. Where I expected to feel the intensity of sadness, there was nothing.
The worst had happened. I’d lost David, and in a way that meant I’d never have him back. But it didn’t seem real. The numbness seemed to be my body refusing to believe what had taken place. I knew this feeling—or lack of it. The moment of divine intervention before all hell breaks loose. “We’ve grown apart, Leena,” my mother had said, the first time my world was demolished. For days I’d been fine after she’d said that. Hadn’t told any of my friends, had played the part of the understanding daughter. I’d been fine until the feelings came crashing down, the day I’d emptied my parents’ medicine cabinet and lined the pills up on my bed according to size and shape.
This time, I wasn’t going to wait until it was too late. I found the plastic baggie of pills, reached inside, fondled the hard bits of betterness. I placed a small oval one in my mouth. Then a round one. The sadness was coming. But I could head it off. Because I knew, I knew what I’d done was right. That was what mattered. The sadness was unnecessary. A stupid, physical reaction. If David had to leave me, well, what was there to do about it?
But why did I say those things to him? Maybe it would have been okay, later.
No, it wouldn’t. The words were all around me. You’d already lost him.
He might have forgiven me. Understood why I did it.
He never loved you. None of them did.
My family, Viv, Abby. Never loved me? Hearing those words shriveled me inside, as if all my organs were dried and cracked. “No,” I protested. “They did. They do.”
Another pill or two or three found their way into my mouth, down my throat, leaving a bitter trail. Didn’t care what they were. Anything would help.
God, I was tired. The headache I’d had earlier grew and grew so I took something for that, as well. Enough to get rid of this one and the next one. Maybe I could wait it out. The feelings. Just stay in here until it was too late to care anymore.
Shelter. Wait out the storm.
You can. Stay with me. I held Cubby close, almost too exhausted to lift her hollow wood body. These words had nothing to do with her anymore. They were from the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Should this have surprised me? I wondered. Maybe I was just too tired to be surprised.
“I don’t understand why this had to happen.”
You’re safe now, Leena. Admit what you’ve always known.
“What?” I said. “Admit what?”
Why it’s all happened. Why all your pain has happened.
A wave of marrow-deep fatigue swept through me. I needed to sleep—for a week, a month, more—I couldn’t imagine I could ever sleep enough.
I drifted off, who knows for how long, but woke when a steady beep, beep, beep filled my ears. I forgot where I was, thought it was my alarm clock. I tried to move, to turn it off, but couldn’t. Then I remembered.
Nausea swelled in my stomach. The beeping grew louder. Louder.
The fire alarm?
Had David … ?
I reached for the doorknob. My hand could barely stretch that high, my arm was so heavy. I was fighting against more than gravity. I finally felt the knob, turned, and pushed. Nothing. The door wouldn’t move. The bolt. Had I locked it? No, I hadn’t. The sickness in my gut radiated out.
I lowered my arm.
Your body won’t let you leave. It knows what you need. Another pill.
Maybe that would help. Something for energy. This house always knew what I needed, from the beginning. Hadn’t it? I slipped another in my mouth. My eyes shut. I lifted my arm again and tried to reach up. Too tired. The alarm blared. He wouldn’t really have done that, would he? Why would he do it now? I was so confused.
Footsteps thudded nearby, shook the house.
“Leena?” A voice called from far, far away.
I tried to reach for the door. Gravity’s cold nails trapped my arms on the floor. Tried again. Nothing. Now it wasn’t just trying to move that was hard, it was trying to breathe. Bricks, walls tumbled on top of me. Pressed me down. Down toward the earth. Squeezing my chest.
A surge ripped through me, vomited through my listless body. The burn. The stink. I had to get out.
Out there are people who don’t want you, the walls whispered. In here is where you belong.
Was that true? It felt true, inside my bones. My poor, tired bones. Inside my poor, sick gut. But somehow …
“Leena?” The door trembled, the knob wiggled back and forth. “Leena, are you in there?” The door wasn’t locked; still, they couldn’t open it. I knew they wouldn’t be able to. Just like David hadn’t been able to, that day so many weeks ago.
They don’t want you. None of them. Her voice filled the space. Could they hear her, outside the door? Look what you’ve let them do to you. There’s nowhere for you to go.
“That’s not how it is,” I said back. “Things happen. You can’t stop things from happening.”
Yes, you can. In here.
My arm. Would. Not. Move.
I’ll protect you, she cooed. You can’t do it yourself. You’re too weak. That’s why you came in here. You knew it the first time you saw the house. You knew you needed it.
“Someone’s out there. Looking for me.”
You’ve never been strong enough, she said. If you were strong, you wouldn’t have been with David. Admit it, Leena.
I’d tried not to be with him, but it hadn’t worked. That was true. And now look.
Now you know he never loved you. And you’re too weak to take the pain.
“He did love me.”
Weak, stupid Leena. I told you not to be with him. But you couldn’t resist. You couldn’t stop yourself from needing.
“No. I chose. I wasn’t weak.” Shudders rippled through me. Another surge of vomit.
It’s okay, Leena. I know. I know you aren’t strong enough. But I love you anyway.
“Leena?” More thumping. “Are you okay? Leena, let us know if you’re in there. Please. We don’t know if it’s a fire drill, or what, but we have to get out. Why won’t you come out?”
Admit it, she hissed. You’ll never be okay. Not out there. David was right. You’re the sick one.
“No,” I whispered.
This voice—Cubby, the closet, the walls—it wasn’t me. Wasn’t from any place inside of me.
You ’re the sick one.
Thumping. “Leena, please!”
Nothing emerged from my mouth because someone held my tongue, pressed it back into my throat so I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. I began to gag. I tilted my gaze to the floor, to my arms. Visualized raising them up. But I couldn’t. Only one hand. One hand moved. Lifting it was like lifting the whole house
. I reached up with my last bit of energy, reached up with that one hand and scratched at the door. My fingernails scraped against the wood. Once, twice.
“Did you hear that?” someone outside said.
Scratched once more. All I had in me.
I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, except for the voice. Stay with me, she cooed, over and over . I’m the only one who wants you. After I reached the heaviest place, so heavy I thought my body was being obliterated, I felt a release, a lightness. Like when you’ve held your arms against a doorframe and then walk out and they fly up. I flew up. Up and out and high and wide and all over and circling and spreading. And no more containment. Just me, energy, spreading into wood and plaster and brick and floating in the air and filling the space. An angel after all. No more body keeping me tied down. The body was still there, I just wasn’t in it.
Chapter 41
SUN-STREAMS POURED IN from the arched window. Dust particles shimmered in the pathway.
“Would it sound really weird,” I asked Viv, my eyes shifting away from the light, “if I told you that part of me … part of me didn’t come back?”
“Didn’t come back?” she said.
“You know, after the paramedics got to me.”
Viv reloaded the nail polish brush and stroked the pearly white liquid over my left thumbnail. She’d come down to see me at my dad’s condo. “Well, it kind of makes sense,” she said. “I mean, we have this life-force energy, right? Who’s to say that some of yours wasn’t released when your body thought it was the end. Like a leak in an inflatable raft that’s then patched up. Right? The air that escapes never comes back.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I just … I feel like I left something behind. I never would have believed that, before. I mean, it sounds so stupid. It’s the kind of kooky thinking I’d have made fun of.”
The springs of the sofa bed creaked as Viv shifted her weight.
“I suppose,” she said, “a lot was different before.”
Before.
Before, I knew so many things. About David and Celeste. About myself. About real and unreal. I built a fort out of all of these things I knew.
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