Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Half her words don’t even make sense.
But it doesn’t matter. Because I’m losing my balance and falling to the left. I expect to have my shoulder slam into the sticky dirt wall, but it doesn’t. Instead, I keep falling and falling.
And falling.
I wake up in my bed. It’s a slow awakening as pieces of the night slowly slip out of my grasp. My head pounds like I have a drastic hangover.
My ears adjust to the ticking of the clock, and I look over in the dim morning light to see the time. Six forty-four. My alarm will go off in a minute.
Everything that happened is nearly lost. I remember I stayed up late, couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about Brom and Kat and Sarah, and then I was thinking about…Vivienne Henry? Of voices trapped behind walls? Of Sister Leona’s row of sharp teeth?
I rub my palm down my face. “What is happening to me?”
I take in a deep breath and try once more to grasp the fragments of the night, but they melt away like dreams. Were they dreams? Thoughts? Did the dead teacher make an appearance again?
I’ve got nothing. Nothing but questions and never any answers.
Some teacher I’ve turned out to be.
Chapter 22
Kat
The next morning, I wake up with a heavy heart, anger and shame settling over me like the low fog outside my window. The first thing I remember is fighting with Brom in the stables, the last person on Earth that I want to fight with. He had been so cruel and callous, but I had lost my temper. I know it’s not his fault that he doesn’t remember anything, and I know that’s also why he’s not himself, why he’s become so rough and volatile. I should have been more understanding.
But then again, I didn’t deserve for him to compare me to a dirty rag. I didn’t deserve his jealous outbursts. I’m trying to help him, and it feels like I’m the only one who is.
Except for Crane. I have to talk to Crane. When we left his class yesterday, he had promised us he would read up on any magic or spells that could work to reverse memory loss. I thank God that I have him, the only other person who seems to care as much as I do. For once, I feel like I’m not alone.
I get up slowly, looking around my bedroom, at the stack of books on the desk, the dried flowers in a vase, my stack of tarot cards that I now feel brave enough to leave out in the open. On the wall is a framed picture of rudimentary art, wet leaves pressed onto canvas until they left colored outlines, but I had done it with my father one autumn afternoon, sitting outside on the porch, not realizing I was creating a moment in time that would live forever.
Will I be able to take it with me to the school? How much of myself am I allowed to bring? Where the idea of living on campus thrilled me weeks ago, now I feel sick to my stomach over it. Because it isn’t my choice, and I don’t know why my mother wants me to be there. Is it truly because she wants me and Brom to be closer because she—and everyone else—still thinks we’re going to get married? Or is it something else? After what Famke told me and after Brom confirmed it, I know my mother doesn’t have my best interests at heart.
With that in mind, I get dressed for the day. When I head out to use the washroom, I smell a hearty breakfast of fried pork and eggs, the smell of freshly ground coffee and chicory, and hear Famke and my mother speaking in Dutch in the kitchen. I wish I could understand what they’re saying—my parents didn’t bother trying to teach me their mother tongue—but I at least know that they’re having a disagreement over something.
When I’m finally ready, sticking the final pins up in my hair, I make my way to the dining room table, where my mother is seated reading the weekly newspaper. She glances up at me but doesn’t say anything. I take my seat across from her as Famke comes in and gives me my breakfast.
“Thank you,” I say to her, and while her smile is warm for me, she turns frosty again as she glances at my mother and heads back to the kitchen.
After my altercation in the barn with Brom last night, I stayed with Snowdrop for a while. Her energy had changed after him being there, becoming anxious and pawing at the ground. It took time to calm her, and I was in no hurry to go back inside and face my mother and the Van Brunts. By the time I did go back in the house, the Van Brunts had left, my mother had already retired to bed, and Famke was cleaning up. I wanted to talk to her more about our discussion earlier, but I was tired, and she seemed a little closed off, like she’d already said too much.