Of Snow and Roses

by T. M. Franklin

  “What do you want?”

  The bear dropped down to all fours and tipped its head－now even with Neve’s－to the side, as if in question.

  She placed her hands flat on the glass and leaned closer, curiosity winning out over fear. The bear turned as if to leave, walked away a few steps, then looked back over his shoulder. After a few moments, he came closer again, then repeated the walk away and look back.

  “Are you－” Neve couldn’t believe she was talking to a bear. “Do you want me to follow you?”

  When it simply stared at her, she laughed. “Okay, Neve, you’re losing it,” she mumbled. Even if it were some kind of circus bear that understood English commands－Hey, that could be a thing!－it couldn’t possibly hear her through the glass. Her imagination was definitely running away with her.

  “I wish I could,” she said, suddenly overcome with a wave of longing. “I wish I could follow you right out of here and go somewhere less insane.”

  She sighed, pressing her cheek against the glass, then jumped when her door suddenly swung open. Neve whirled quickly, as if to block the view of the bear from whoever was coming in.

  But nobody did.

  “Hello?” She crossed the room and peered out the door into the dimly lit hallway. “Hello?”

  No one was there. No orderlies. No nurses. Nothing.

  Then she heard a loud click off to the left, followed by the unmistakable creak of a door opening.

  Could this place get any weirder?

  Neve glanced back at the bear, who now sat on his haunches, waiting for her.

  “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, feeling silly, but as if she shouldn’t leave it waiting. She poked her head into the hallway and heard another low creak. Neve moved quietly, following the sound, and turned the corner to find an emergency exit standing wide open. The sign beside it clearly read Alarm will sound if door is opened.

  “Must be broken,” she murmured, inching toward the opening. She peeked out at the empty courtyard and could see the bear still sitting by her window.

  She jerked away from the door. “Okay, let’s think this through,” she whispered. “You’re in here. A big scary bear is out there. You’re going to stay in here, right?”

  But . . . once she got past the sheer size of it, the bear really didn’t seem that scary. She snuck another quick look outside. The bear was idly scratching his ear, yawning widely.

  Man, it had a huge mouth. But Neve still had a feeling that it was . . . well, if not friendly exactly, that it didn’t want to hurt her.

  Why did it keep coming to her window? Why did it seem to be looking for her?

  “Ugh. You’re crazy, you know?” she mumbled to herself, but she stepped through the door, leaving it open a crack behind her. The bear’s ears perked up and it turned toward her, getting to its feet.

  “Okay, big fellow,” she said, taking one step forward. “We’re going to take this really slow, okay? And you’re not going to eat me, right?”

  The bear snorted, as if it understood her words.

  “Do bears eat people?” she asked, taking another step, but keeping the door in her peripheral vision. “I thought it was mostly salmon and berries, or whatever. You do maim people, though, right? So, no maiming. Please.”

  The bear sat down again, still staring at her. She moved closer, but it kept perfectly still.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said when a mere three feet of space lay between them.

  The bear didn’t move.

  She inched closer, swallowing thickly, then slowly reached out. Would it let her touch it? Would it bite her hand off?

  The click of a lock and rattle of a doorknob jerked them both out of the stillness and the bear raced toward the woods before Neve even realized what was happening.

  “Hey－”

  One of the french doors to the common room swung open, and Neve jumped into the shadows, panicked. She melted into the exterior wall, gripping onto the groove between panels of siding.

  “Don’t see me. Don’t see me. Don’t see me,” she chanted silently as Calum walked out into the yard. Her eyes darted to the emergency exit door, but there was no way she could make it without him spotting her.

  Don’t see me. Don’t see me. Don’t see me.

  He wandered onto the path, scanning the edge of the forest as he puffed on a cigarette. He came to a stop directly across the lawn from where Neve stood, frozen, his back to her as he stared into the trees. Then, with a flick of ash onto the ground, he turned around to look right at her.

  She held her breath. Was she hidden enough in the shadows?

  Don’t see me. Don’t see me. Don’t see me.

  His head turned in a wide arc as he took another puff from his cigarette, but his gaze skipped right over her, as if she weren’t there. Then, dropping the butt onto the ground, he snuffed it out with the heel of his sneaker before heading back inside.

  It wasn’t until the door closed and a good thirty seconds had passed that Neve was able to get her shaking legs to carry her back through the emergency exit door, down the hall, and into her own room.

  She closed the door quietly, then rushed to the window, pushing the curtains open wider and frantically searching for the bear. It was only then that a flashing shimmer caught her attention and she noticed the sleeve of her sweatshirt had slipped up to show the fading lines of the snowflake tattoo.

  Her mind raced. There was a connection there . . . between the bear and the tattoo, and－

  Neve looked at the spot where she’d been standing earlier, where Calum hadn’t seen her. She’d thought she’d been hidden by the shadows, but now that she examined it more closely, she saw the area was dimly lit by the lamp post on the corner. Even in the darkness, Calum should have seen her. There was no way he could have missed her.

  But he had.

  Slowly, strange keys started to fit into bizarre locks. The thoughts made no sense, but they ran through her head anyway.

  She’d wanted to go outside, and the doors had opened. Wanted Calum not to see her, and he hadn’t.

  It was like . . . magic. Almost as if she’d wished for things to happen, and the wishes had come true.

  Neve traced a finger over the spot where she’d seen the snowflake glittering on her skin. Could it all be connected somehow? The bear. The tattoo. The sparks that burned when she was upset. The bear that behaved as no bear should?

  What did it all mean? She felt as if she had the answer on the tip of her tongue . . . that it was around the corner, waiting for her to discover it, but kept slipping away right as she was about to grab it.

  Neve had no idea how long she stood there at the window, lost in thought and watching . . . hoping that the bear might reappear. But after a while, exhaustion claimed her, and she climbed back into bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Hours later, the bear stood alert in the shadows, hidden by the trees but with the girl’s window in clear sight. He had no words for what he was doing, of course. He was a bear, after all. But he knew he needed to always be on watch. To make sure she was safe.

  To protect her.

  It was his only mission. An instinct that overrode all others.

  His gaze never leaving the building, he leaned over to bite at a bit of fungus growing on a nearby tree. The sun would rise soon, and he would have to abandon his post, but he wouldn’t leave until the last possible moment.

  A familiar scent caught his attention, and he growled low in his throat as the creature came into view, bypassing the window with a click of its tongue.

  A rage so deep, so raw that it nearly ate him up from the inside filled the bear, only compounded by its inability to lunge, to rip the creature’s throat wide open and leave it bleeding on the ground. Unable to roar, he fought against the invisible bonds, but he wasn’t strong enough to break them.

  The creature only laughed as it approached his hiding place, ducking its head to peer at the bear in open mockery.


  “There’s really no need for you to keep watch, you know,” it said, shaking its head. “I have no desire to harm the girl. That would kind of defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”

  The bear flashed its teeth, claws curling into the damp ground in frustration.

  “But do as you will. It will make no difference in the end.” Its smile turned vicious. “I’m close, you know. Very close.” He straightened and glanced at the sky.

  “Time’s running out.” The creature turned then, not afraid at all of the furious wild animal at its back. It strolled back into the building, leaving the bear all but frothing at the mouth.

  But a movement in the window caught his attention, distracting him from his fury. The girl had opened the curtains and stood looking out. She couldn’t see him yet, not in the weak light of predawn, but he dared not step into the open, not when his sharp hearing told him so many were already beginning to stir.

  She yawned and rubbed at her eyes, then looked down at her inner arm for a moment, tracing the skin there with her other hand. The bear had a strong urge to go to her, to lead her away and bring her somewhere safe. Somewhere he could protect her.

  But he couldn’t, of course. This was all he could do.

  Watch and wait.

  After a while, the girl turned and left the window and the bear glanced up at the lightening sky. The sun would break the horizon soon, so his watch was almost over. He could feel it itching under his fur, throbbing in his heart.

  He took one last look at the window before the first pink streams of dawn lit the sky, then abandoned his post until nightfall.

  He would not fail her.

  Not again.

  Now that Neve had her eyes opened to the weirdness around her, she found more of it everywhere she looked. Lily continued to keep her distance with a wary eye, hastily stuffing her mouth with food and leaving the common room whenever Neve entered. Tala ignored everyone, including Torbin, although he made no effort to go near her, either.

  And they weren’t the only patients who were acting strange. Nancy went missing for a few days then showed up at group without her ever-present crochet hook. Peter, who’d always dominated any conversation, became quiet and withdrawn, barely speaking, even when asked a direct question.

  In fact, it seemed like pretty much every patient disappeared for so-called intensive individual therapy for days at a time and would return haggard and drawn with shuffling feet and bowed shoulders.

  Whatever this intensive therapy was, it definitely didn’t seem to have a positive effect. Neve wondered how long she’d be able to avoid it, and tried to stay under the radar as much as possible, observing quietly and keeping up an appearance of acquiescence.

  Appearances, however, could be very deceiving.

  She’d become convinced that the staff at Blackbriar definitely did not have the best interests of its patients at heart, but she wasn’t sure yet what to do about it. It wasn’t as though Neve could simply walk away. Cameras kept tabs on all of them at every moment, and she knew any attempt to leave would mean a return of the restraints and the drugs, and she couldn’t risk it.

  Not until she figured out exactly what was happening.

  She’d started to have flashes of memories－vague, hazy things she first attributed to delusion until she realized she couldn’t interact with them like she could with Rose. The longer she went without the meds, the clearer the images became－a russet horse running across a green pasture, laundry hanging on a line, something simmering in an iron pot on a stove. Mundane, everyday things at first, then images that crept into the fantastical: her own sparkling hands holding another person’s, the intertwined fingers shimmering with electric power, her own feet floating above the earth as she looked down with glee . . . a candle bursting into flame without a match in sight.

  None of it made sense. None of it was logical.

  But she was convinced that the medication that Doctor Alberich had prescribed had nothing to do with making her better. Instead, she suspected it did the opposite. That it repressed her memories somehow, and now that it was being flushed out of her system, they were beginning to return.

  Neve figured her memory was like a muscle that needed retraining. So, she’d spend hours focusing on a certain memory, trying to pinpoint minute details and how she was feeling at a particular moment. It seemed to work, although she was careful to keep her progress to herself.

  Don’t trust him. That definitely extended to the entire staff at Blackbriar now, including Doctor Alberich.

  She’d also been trying to recreate the emotions leading to the sparks and the shimmering tattoo, although she hadn’t had much luck with that, yet. As for the wishes?

  Well, she’d had a little progress on that front, at least.

  One afternoon, almost three weeks since she first awoke at Blackbriar, Neve sat on a bench during free time, watching a group playing croquet, while a few others walked circuits around the lawn for exercise. Torbin loomed nearby, as usual, and Lily and Tala were nowhere to be seen.

  Nancy lined up for her shot, missing the wicket entirely as the red ball rolled toward the edge of the path, and Neve sat up a little straighter, seeing an opportunity. She’d found her wishes worked best when she did what she’d done the night with the bear.

  Don’t see it. Don’t see it. Don’t see it. She chanted over and over in her head, focused solely on Nancy, who walked over in search of the ball. The woman looked down at the grass, her brow creased in confusion.

  “Where did it go?” she called back to the group.

  “It’s right there,” Peter replied, lining up his own shot. “Next to your foot.”

  Don’t see it. Don’t see it. Don’t see it.

  Nancy turned in a circle, staring down at the ground, but even though she barely missed kicking the ball with the side of her foot, she made no indication that she saw it at all.

  Neve let her concentration ease, and Nancy blinked down at the ground.

  “Oh, there it is,” she said, bending to pick it up. “If it was a snake, it would have bit me.” She rejoined the game without another thought, and Neve smiled in satisfaction.

  She couldn’t explain it, but that was a trick she felt would definitely prove useful. On a victory high, she stood and walked slowly over toward Torbin, sending a Don’t see me back at Angelica, who stood near the french doors, keeping watch.

  “I need to talk to you,” Neve told him.

  He cocked a brow in response.

  “Tala wasn’t at breakfast,” she said. “Has she been taken for therapy?” She used air quotes to indicate exactly what she thought of the idea.

  Torbin’s whole body tightened, and when he gave a slight nod, it was as if it took all his effort.

  “We need to find her,” Neve said. “Have you noticed how sick everyone looks when they get done with one of those therapy sessions? I mean, look at Nancy.” She pointed toward the croquet game, noting that Angelica was still not looking in their direction. Good. Don’t see me.

  “It looks like she’s aged ten years.” Neve lowered her voice, just in case. “Same with Peter and Lily. Like they’ve had the life sucked right out of them.”

  Torbin frowned, shooting a quick glance toward Angelica.

  “I know they’re watching,” she replied with a frustrated groan. “But you know the camera dead spots, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Is there a way to get around the Institute without being spotted?”

  He hesitated, then nodded again before looking pointedly toward Angelica one more time.

  “I think I can handle them,” she said with a slight smile. “I seem to have the power of invisibility.”

  Torbin stared at her, unblinking.

  “Okay, not invisibility per se, but－” She chewed on her lip, then looked him in the eye. “I know this sounds crazy, but I－somehow－can make people not see me. I don’t know if I’m messing with their eyes or their mind or what, but－” When he gave no response, she h
uffed.

  “Okay, look.” She turned around and thought for a moment. “I’m not sure this will work. I’ve never tried it with more than one person, but－” She closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts, then opened them slowly.

  Don’t see us. Don’t see us. Don’t see us.

  And with that, she took off at a dead run for the path in the forest.

  A moment later, she heard Torbin chase after her, but as far as she could tell, nobody else noticed what she was doing. She raced down the path, sneakers slapping against the soft ground, and only stopped when she could no longer hear voices or the click of croquet balls.

  Neve turned to face Torbin, a victorious smile on her face. “See?” she said through heavy breaths. She needed to get in better shape.

  Torbin’s brow furrowed as he studied her, turning his head back toward the path, then facing her again deliberately.

  “I know, it’s awesome right?” she said. “I don’t know how I’m doing it. I mean, who can do that? It’s like something from a movie.”

  Then the most amazing thing happened. Torbin’s face, so stoic and hard, broke into a wide, happy smile.

  It stunned Neve, abruptly stopping her steady stream of words. The sharp creases in his face vanished, except for the curves around his lips, and his dark eyes sparkled. She took a moment to appreciate his thick lashes, the sharp line of his jaw, sprinkled with stubble . . . the fullness of his lower lip where his teeth－

  She shuddered, then swallowed nervously.

  Sure, Torbin was handsome. Even when she was pretty sure he hated her, she could have admitted that. But when he smiled his whole face－his whole body lit up, and the effect was mesmerizing.

  He stepped closer to her, and her breath caught as her heart hammered in her chest. He reached out, and she thought for a moment he was going to stroke her cheek or maybe tip her chin up so he could－

  Torbin tapped her forehead with one finger, a questioning look on his face.

  “What?” she asked in a raspy voice. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “What?”