Grey Haven (Book 1: The Dreamer Chronicles)

When I finally forced my eyes open, the world was still blurry. The dark clouds, the yellow, reds, and oranges of the trees, the mist rolling on the ground, blended together in one surrealist vision. I blinked several times before the world shifted into its proper focus.

I tried to sit up, groaning as I did, and a foot pressed me back down. Though I was groggy, I kicked out, twisting the foot on my chest as my foot connected with a knee. The person fell and rolled away from me. I went in the opposite direction. As I scrambled away, I realized that it was the man who had held me at knifepoint in the woods.

The man jumped to his feet with easy grace. His knife was in his hand. He held it with the same cool confidence he held his body. He was blocking the way out of the woods, cutting off my route home. I prepared for a fight, though my head swam and my body, particularly my back, burned with pain.

“I didn’t attack you,” the man said.

“What do you call this?” I asked, gesturing between us sarcastically.

“I tried to keep you on the ground, to keep you from attacking me, but I didn’t knock you out,” the man said.

“So, who did? The tooth fairy?” I asked.

“I didn’t get a good look at him,” he said. “He was wearing a jacket and had the hood up. He took off running when I walked up. He was too fast for me to catch…”

“That’s convenient,” I said.

The man rolled his eyes. He lowered his knife and stepped back to give me room to pass. “I don’t have time for you,” he said. “Go home.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Someone who doesn’t have time for your questions,” the man said. “Do I need to tell you to leave again?”

His hand tightened on his knife. I crossed my arms. My instinct told me there had been plenty of time for him to kill me while I had been unconscious. He was dangerous, and I still felt he was involved in what was going on, but he had let me live twice now when it would have been easier to kill me. If he was the traitor, he was really bad at it.

“Are you going to scare me with veiled threats, or did you intend to actually use that knife?” I asked.

The man’s expression hardened. He prowled over to me faster than I thought possible. He put the knife against my throat as he used his other hand and his body to keep my arms against my side. His blue eyes flashed with anger. It was anger that had me doubting my instinct. I glared at him, daring him to follow through, daring him to do something more than scare me with his empty threats. I wasn’t scared; I was angry, angry at a day that had provided nothing more than questions and confusion. I was angry that everyone kept pointing out how helpless I was.

“Chris, let her go,” Harry said sternly from behind us.

The man, Chris, didn’t release me right away. He kept staring at me, his blue eyes bright and eager for violence, a swirl of dark momentarily dulling the blue. I kept up my dare, unwilling to back down. My eyes were just as fierce, just as deadly.

Finally, he pushed me away. I stumbled but managed to stay on my feet. He stuck his knife into its sheath and turned to Harry as if Harry was the only one worth noticing. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said.

Harry shrugged. “That’s what you get for thinking you know everything. Did you hear about the guardian?”

“It’s why I’m here,” Chris said.

“Find anything?” Harry asked.

Chris gestured at me in obvious irritation. He bent down to the burnt books without any further explanation. As he did, I noticed that the stack was different. The unburnt paper in the center had been taken. Someone had collected the evidence after they had hit me. I wondered why they hadn’t just killed me. It made me nervous; made me wonder what they were waiting for.

“You okay?” Harry asked me.

“I’m pissed,” I said.

“Yeah,” Harry said indifferently. “You should get back to the house.”

“No,” I said.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked.

Chris snickered. He was obviously not impressed by Harry’s lack of control over me. Harry ignored him and stared at me. His expression was unlike anything I had ever seen from him. It was a dreamer’s expression, fierce and full of experience. “I’m not playing games, Julie,” Harry said. “I’ll take that lip when it doesn’t matter. It matters now.”

“I know that! I’ve been attacked more than you have this week!” I said. I pointed at the man. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“He’s Chris,” Harry said. “I mentioned him.”

“How do you know he’s not the bad guy?” I asked.

“I ask myself that every time I see him,” Harry said. “But he’s not the one causing problems now.”

“How long has she been at Grey Haven? Half a year at most? Why explain to someone who won’t be able to understand for at least two more years?” Chris asked.

“What I explain, or don’t explain, is none of your business,” Harry said.

Chris smirked and stood gracefully. He held Harry’s gaze as if he were the only real person in the conversation. “There’s nothing left. He took whatever he was trying to burn. I can’t track him from this.”

“It was the book he stole,” I said, though I stared stubbornly at Harry as well.

“What book?” Chris asked.

I firmed my lips into a frown obstinately.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry chastised me.

I glared, then relented. “He stole one from the library. He might have even purchased one from Madam George.”

My glare shifted to Chris, wondering if he would confess to being at Madam George’s shop, or at least to getting a phone call from her. His eyebrows raised in surprise that someone had stolen the book from the library. His surprise turned to suspicion quickly.

“How do I know she isn’t playing games?” Chris asked Harry.

“She isn’t,” Harry said.

“What game?” I demanded.

“You could be working with the shade,” Chris said. “Your attack in the dreamworld might have been planned. You could be trying to make yourself look innocent, so that we won’t suspect you.”

“Sounds like a pretty stupid plan,” I said. “If I was really working against you, I wouldn’t throw suspicion on myself at all.”

“I can vouch for her,” Harry said.

“That means so much coming from you,” Chris said his voice laced with sarcasm.

Harry crossed his arms and didn’t reply. A thin smile highlighted the lines on Harry’s face. It mocked Chris, challenging him to say something meaningful or leave. Chris took the hint. He started to walk away, not as interested in fighting Harry as he was with me. He was finished searching for clues and making not-so-veiled threats. He paused at the tree line, however, and spoke with his back to us. “Tell Mrs. Z. that her plan won’t work.”

“You think she’ll listen to me?” Harry asked.

Chris didn’t reply. He walked back to the road and out of sight. A minute later, his motorcycle roared to life and he sped away. Harry waited until the sound had faded away before he turned to glare at me. “Home. Now,” he said.

I brushed past him without arguing.

My head throbbed with every step I took. It was a dull ache that made focusing difficult. It took me a minute to realize that the man, Chris, wasn’t the enemy I had imagined. He wasn’t a ray of sunshine, but he also wasn’t plotting to take us over. Harry’s reaction to him, and the fact that the man had let me live twice now, was proof enough. I didn’t like him, but it didn’t stop the truth of his innocence. It was another lead gone. I had nothing to follow now beyond a throbbing head and a thousand unanswered questions. The list of questions felt larger than ever.

A big question was what Chris had meant by Mrs. Z.’s plan. I wondered if she was planning on drawing the shade out or going into the dreamworld to fight it. Both were dangerous. I understood why Chris would warn against it. No creature, no matter where they came from, was stupid enough to fall into an obvious trap. And the less obvious the trap Mrs. Z. laid, the more dangerous it was for everyone involved.

I put my hand to my neck, where I had been hit, and realized that the warnings of the others were right. I was in over my head. I didn’t understand all the moving parts around me. I wanted to understand, but it didn’t necessarily follow that I was the best one to deal with solving the mystery. I had to trust in Harry and Mrs. Z. It was a difficult reality to face, but it was truth all the same. I would have to wait and see. Because next time, it might not be a bump on the head and a headache. It might be the thing that killed me.

As I walked with Harry up the street, I vowed to keep my nose out of it all. I would let Mrs. Z. deal with the problem, as she had asked me to. It was the smart thing to do. Trouble was only fun when there was proof it didn’t hurt anyone else. I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone getting injured because of my pride.

When I got back to the house, I didn’t tell Carrie about the attack or my confrontation with Chris. She was still reading on her bed, oblivious to anything outside of her books. I bypassed her and went to my room. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the wall. I knew it would take a distraction of monumental proportions to keep me from searching for answers, because my natural curiosity was part of my survival instinct, ingrained to search out threats so that I survived them. I wasn’t certain there was one that big in the world, but I knew I would have to try. I had to.

‡

The next day, I voluntarily pulled out my homework. Carrie was shocked when I joined her and Tommy in the homework room without nagging and/or bribery. Tommy stared at me, obviously intrigued, but I ignored their unasked questions with single-minded determination. The distraction helped, but the questions lingered.

At lunch, Dana decided to confront me about Sully. She leaned against the wall separating the homework room from the living room. Her expression was smug. Jen and Lisa were on the sofa. They stared at us expectantly, prepared for Dana’s words.

“Can I help you?” I asked her tightly.

Carrie and Tommy stopped talking to look at her. They hadn’t noticed her watching us.

“I was wondering if you thought you could break the rules and get away with it,” Dana said. “You and the sandwich guy…that’s a big no-no here. Almost big enough to get you kicked out of Grey Haven.”

I put my pencil down, so that I wouldn’t use it on Dana, and smiled. “Are you really that threatened by me, Dana?” I asked. “Do I scare you that much?”

Dana’s expression hardened. “Scare me? I’ve been here since I was eleven. I know how to fight in ways that you haven’t even begun to understand,” she said.

I gave a large, fake yawn, stretching my arms out wide. Carrie and Tommy chuckled.

“What matters to me is Grey Haven,” Dana said, continuing her rehearsed speech. “And the fact that you’re putting it at risk.”

“Well, then I suppose you should tell someone and get on with it,” I said indifferently.

I was willing to let her get me in trouble. It was better than her thinking she held something over me. If they kicked me out for seeing Sully, then they kicked me out. I was tired of worrying about it. I had reached my limit with her and the situation.

As I said it, Harry walked past us, headed for the kitchen. His face was pale, and there were tired lines around his eyes. It was obvious he hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. He fixed a sandwich, his feet dragging on the floor. We listened to him, Dana’s eyes locked on mine, the tension building. I silently dared her to tell on me. Dana’s smile grew until it was pure viciousness.

When Harry walked back out of the kitchen, she made up her mind. “Harry?” Dana said to get his attention.

Harry didn’t stop walking as he replied. “What?”

“Julie has been dating a boy from town. It’s the sandwich guy – Sully. I saw them together yesterday,” Dana said.

“Grow up,” Harry said. He took a bite of his sandwich, went into his bedroom, and slammed the door behind him.

Dana’s eyes went wide, shocked.

Carrie, Tommy, and I dissolved into laughter at the look on her face. Tommy’s laughter was the loudest; tears tracked down his face. My body shook. Carrie had collapsed on top of the table, her body rocking in time to her laughs.

Dana’s shock turned to anger at our laughter. Her face turned red. Jen and Lisa stared at her, uncertain how to react now that their planned attack had gone so off script.

A knock came from the front door while we laughed. Lisa hurried to answer it, eager for the distraction. “It’s Ben,” Lisa said, opening the door wider as proof.

Ben walked inside with a welcoming smile. He saw Carrie laughing, Tommy all but crying, and me wheezing, then caught sight of Dana’s expression. He winced and grabbed Dana’s hand, urging her outside with a wistful smile directed our way. He quickly corrected the expression as Dana’s angry eyes zeroed in on his face. They left the house in huffy silence, our laughter trailing after them.

‡

Monday was a different problem. It was impossible to ignore what had happened with everyone talking about the attack. I couldn’t pass a group of people without overhearing the wild speculation and the fear. Stories had shifted to the point that the fight had taken on a supernatural element. Facts had been twisted around so that it made me sound incredibly lucky, unnaturally gifted, or involved in the attack somehow. The story depended on who was doing the talking.

Some of the people I was friendly with dared to ask me about it. I told them the facts, without telling them what I had learned. Each time I told the story, the questions bubbled in the back of my brain. It took a lot of effort not to dwell on them.

I started avoiding people when it was clear I’d be asked the same questions repeatedly, but it was impossible to dodge everyone. Gym was a perfect example. Several girls cornered Carrie and me as we changed into our exercise clothes. Their eyes were bright as they asked for the story, not caring that I was pantless. I let Carrie tell them what had happened, while I focused on my clothes. It was impossible to drown Carrie out, however. Her careful words added to the nagging feeling that more was at work than anyone was saying. The puzzle was larger than I had thought it to be a week ago.

When we met Tommy in the gym, it was obvious he had gone through a similar experience in the boy’s locker room. He was grinning as he walked out of the locker room with a large group of boys, including Ben.

“I think he’s enjoying the attention,” I said to Carrie so that Tommy could hear.

“I think he’s enjoying hearing himself talk,” Carrie said back.

“Why pick?” Tommy asked, his smile turning sarcastic.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” I said.

“I definitely will,” Tommy said.

Mr. Vimer walked to the center of the room. He blew his whistle, focusing the class on him. Carrie and I shared a quick smile, glad that Tommy was enjoying himself, and turned to face whatever challenge/torture Mr. Vimer had waiting for us.

‡

Shade Studies began the same way, with people demanding to hear what had happened. Tommy told it again happily, adding details that weren’t true to make the tale more interesting. Dana and her group refused to gather around Tommy, but she still took in every single word.

When Mrs. Waite walked in, the class hurried to take their seats. Mrs. Waite looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept all weekend. Her hair wasn’t as perfect as normal, and her clothes were rumpled, as if she had picked them off the floor.

“Mrs. Waite…are you okay?” Carrie asked as Mrs. Waite inhaled sharply.

Mrs. Waite looked up, realized we were staring at her with more fascination than she had ever faced, and shifted uncomfortably. She straightened noticeably and tried her best to look unaffected. “I’m fine, just fine,” she said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Do you have any news on the guardians?” Dana chimed in. “Do you know what happened?”

Mrs. Waite’s expression turned cautious. “The guardians are recovering as we speak. It was a sad incident, but nothing to worry about.”

“But why did they fight?” Dana asked.

“We won’t know until one or the other wakes up,” Mrs. Waite said. “It’s likely it will be nothing more than a big misunderstanding.”

Carrie was fighting against the compulsion to set Mrs. Waite straight. She wanted to tell the truth, but Mrs. Z.’s warning rang through her head. It was the only thing that kept her mouth shut. Her hands were clenched together tightly on top of her desk as she struggled against the truth. Tommy was calm, unaffected. Just as he knew how to tell an entertaining story, he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

“Was it a misunderstanding when the woman attacked three students?” Dana pressed. “Will she be punished for that?”

I was surprised at Dana’s question. It took me a second to realize she wasn’t as concerned about the attack on Carrie, Tommy, and me as she was the possibility of it happening to her or one of her friends. She wanted to know what would be done to make sure it never happened again.

“Mrs. Z. will handle the guardian,” Mrs. Waite said in a sharp voice. “Your concern now should be your studies. Rest assured that the proper course of action is being investigated.”

“But-” Dana started to protest.

“Please hand in your homework,” Mrs. Waite interrupted Dana. “Then turn in your books to page 265. We will be discussing a simple shade known as a crackle. It is a fire shade with a fascinating history.”

Dana was irritated at Mrs. Waite’s change of the subject, but she didn’t dare argue. Two minutes into the lecture, I was doodling on my paper and wishing for a better distraction. Tommy had fallen asleep, and Carrie was taking notes.

‡

Sully was at his normal place at lunch. His shop was as busy as it ever was. If Dana had spread gossip about him, it wasn’t working. Sully gave me a slightly guilty smile as I got in line behind a group of giggling girls. I didn’t understand the guilt until I stepped up to the counter.

“I’m sorry for leaving you so suddenly on Saturday,” Sully said.

It was difficult to remember his abrupt departure after the drama of the guardians and being attacked in the woods. It took me a second to focus on the cause of his apology. “I understand why you had to go,” I said.

“Still…” Sully said. “I’d like to make it up to you.”

“How?” I asked.

His smile turned sly. Behind me, Carrie made an impatient sound. I rolled my eyes at Sully, a sign I had to go, and he made our sandwiches with a small smile. When he returned to the counter, his expression was more serious. His brown eyes shone with a question. “Can I talk to you after lunch?” he asked. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Sure,” I agreed. “Meet me in the cemetery.”

“Okay,” Sully agreed.

I paid and handed Carrie and Tommy their sandwiches. Carrie’s disapproval was in her pursed lips and the way her eyes glittered in the light. She didn’t like me missing class to talk to him.

“I won’t be long,” I promised her. “And Sully has to be gone by ten after anyways. It’s not like we’ll be spending the hour chatting it up.”

“I’m not going to cover for you,” Carrie said as she unwrapped her sandwich. “You’ll have to deal with Miss Peck on your own.”

“That’s fine,” I said.

“You need to lighten up,” Tommy said, nudging Carrie.

“Lighten up?!” Carrie hissed in a low whisper. “Have you forgotten the past week? People died. Julie has been in two fights she shouldn’t have won. And it’s possible someone is looking to finish her for good. Pushing her luck is reckless.”

My stomach clenched at her words. Guilt for not telling her about the third fight settled in my chest. I wanted to tell her, but I was eager to see Sully, and not wanting to lay more proof of why it was a bad idea at her feet. I had to keep to my promise. If I lived as if someone was out to get me the distraction wouldn’t last, and we would start hunting for the traitor again. I refused to take the risk when it might mean Carrie or Tommy were the ones to pay for it.

“It’s just a five-minute conversation,” I said. “I promise not to get attacked, maimed, or otherwise thrown into the pits of hell.”

Carrie shook her head at my stubbornness, but she knew better than to argue with me. She pulled one of her books out of her bag and started reading in huffy silence.

“Have you found anything?” Tommy asked as he watched her read.

“No,” Carrie answered, her eyes still locked on the page. “I’ll let you know when I do.”

“I thought you wanted to behave?” I asked.

“You’re the wrong person to ask me that right now,” Carrie snarked. “Now be quiet, I’m reading.”

Tommy shook his head at Carrie and focused his conversation on me. We talked about our Weapon’s Training class. We were laughing about his misadventures with a mace when a group of fourteen-year-olds came over to our table. They were blushing and giggling. A small girl with brown eyes and bright pink lips was pushed to the front of the group.

“Did you really fight a guardian?” she asked Tommy. “My friends think it’s just gossip.”

Tommy perked up and told the story for the thousandth time that day. The girls listened in awe. Carrie, annoyed at the interruption, packed up her things and switched to another table. I went with her, giving the excited group room to cluster around Tommy. We weren’t long at the table when we were interrupted a second time. Ben sat down next to Carrie silently. She tensed when he sat but didn’t otherwise acknowledge his presence. I stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to talk first.

“Hey,” Ben said.

“Where’s Dana?” I asked.

“She’s practicing fighting in the gym,” Ben said. “Trying to score extra points with Vimer.”

“Why?” I asked.

“To get a recommendation to be moved up to the next level in her training. Why else?” Ben asked.

“I really don’t know,” I said. “I don’t believe in extra credit. It means…doing stuff. Why aren’t you practicing with her?” I asked.

“I don’t need a recommendation,” Ben said.

“That’s either arrogant or cool,” I said.

“If you earn your own way, you can say that your own talents brought you there, not favoritism,” Ben said.

Carrie glanced up from her book, impressed. She quickly lowered her eyes when Ben noticed, but a smile fought gallantly against her frown. Ben hadn’t missed the glance, but he was more focused on what had brought him to the table. His eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned forward. “Did that woman seem right to you when you fought her? Did she seem like she was just worked up, or was there something else?” Ben asked.

“Why do you ask?” I asked carefully.

“The way Mrs. Z. and the others were acting. Something is going on. Also, I heard my guardian and a friend of his talking. They were talking as if the woman had been…” Ben broke off before finishing.

“Possessed,” I said.

Ben made a face. “I guess, though that sounds so ridiculous.”

He was either fishing for information, because he was curious and had noticed something strange about the woman, or he was trying to see how much I had figured out, because he had seen me at the fire. Ben’s sudden interest in talking to me made me doubly cautious. I didn’t trust him. It was impossible to trust someone I had known for such a short amount of time what with a traitor running around bludgeoning people.

“She seemed kind of odd,” I admitted. “But, then, I don’t have the stress of being a guardian on my shoulders. I’m sure it’s not easy. Mrs. Z. will take care of her, no matter the cause.”

Ben didn’t reply, eyebrows rising in suspicious disbelief.

“What?” I asked.

“Have you seen that woman?” Ben asked. “The one who attacked you?”

“Not since I knocked her out,” I said.

“I went by the infirmary this morning and she just didn’t…she didn’t look right,” he admitted.

“How do you mean?” I asked.

Ben shrugged, his eyes lost in the memory. “You won’t understand unless you see for yourself. If you can get by Dr. James, that is.”

His words were a temptation. I wanted to see her and figure out the missing pieces. I wanted to poke around until I had the truth. It took a lot not to ask him how he had managed to get past Dr. James. I bit my tongue, to keep the question in my mouth, and did my best to keep my curiosity from showing on my face.

Carrie’s eyes had stopped moving on the page. She was squinting at the words as if she couldn’t understand them. I saw her trying to parse out why Ben would come to us. Was he searching for an ally or, like the others, a story? The difference mattered.

“Dr. James will take care of her,” I told Ben. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Ben stared at me. His expression suggested he thought I had been taken over by a shade as well. I pursed my lips at his look, knowing how strange I sounded. He might not know me, but he had seen enough to know that I wasn’t one to trust any teacher’s word as gospel. My natural skepticism made that impossible. I had given too much of that truth away for him to take my words seriously.

“If you say so,” Ben said. “I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you guys later?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

Carrie’s eyes started moving on the page again, almost as if she hadn’t spent the conversation wrapped up in Ben’s words. When he was safely away, Carrie closed her book a leveled a look at me. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked me.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Suddenly, Julie Aim is behaving?” Carrie asked skeptically. “You are deliberately being un-curious.”

“I know,” I admitted.

“Why?” Carrie asked. “Did Harry say something you’re not telling me?”

There it was – another chance to come clean. I hesitated. The truth was on the tip of my tongue. “This thing just seems above our pay,” I said. “Besides, Mrs. Z. is right. One of the first things I learned in the orphanage was that sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong gets you hurt. I should have remembered that before we started poking around. Mrs. Z. can handle this. We have other things to worry about.”

“But the people who died…the attack…” Carrie said.

“They’re not our problem,” I snapped.

Carrie’s eyes widened. The pain my coldness had brought her was on her face. I had never been unfriendly and harsh with her. Her hurt quickly transformed to anger. “I should have known you’d find that indifference eventually,” Carrie said coldly. “It’s what you’re best at.”

I glared at her. “You’re the one who said she wanted to follow Mrs. Z.’s orders. Now you’re mad at me for it? You need to figure out what the hell you want, Carrie. And stop blaming me because you spend your time failing to live up to your own expectations.”

My words were bitter and designed to hurt. My frustration had found an easy outlet – the wrong outlet. I was too wrapped up in my anger to fix it. I stood and marched out of the cafeteria without looking back.

I stomped the whole way out to the cemetery, guilt at war with anger. It was cold and wet, but my anger burned white hot, warming me. I paced around a group of headstones, trying to get my temper under control. It had just cooled off when Sully arrived. I stopped pacing to look at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Carrie and I had a fight. I don’t want talk about it…What did you want to talk about?” I asked.

Sully stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. The hug was strange, almost as if he was saying goodbye. I knew that neither of us was looking for a relationship, we had been clear on that from the beginning, but I hadn’t expected him to break off things yet. I had thought everything was going fine, that we were having fun.

When he pulled away, I was ready for the goodbye. Sully took a deep breath. His eyes turned distant and he sighed. I was impatient for his words; I didn’t want to be kept waiting when I was certain of the news.

“I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore,” I said before he could make it unbearable. “You’re busy with your shop and with your mom. It’s a lot for anyone to manage.”

Sully shook his head at my misunderstanding. “No. That’s not why I asked you to meet me,” he confessed.

My spirits lifted with that information. He hadn’t been saying goodbye. But then why was he so grim? “What’s on your mind then?” I asked.

Sully’s mouth opened then closed. His dark eyes were conflicted. He finally deflated, all fight going out of him. “I was going to ask you what’s really going on. But I just realized it’s none of my business.”

“Going on with what?” I asked, tense.

“With you. With this school. Something is up. I can tell. People are worked up. They’re careful to keep it hidden, but something is going on. I think it has to do with you, and I think it has to do with that man you had me follow. So, what is it?”

Sully’s questions were fair. I owed him an explanation. Anyone would have been curious. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something wasn’t quite right with Grey Haven. Sully had kept his suspicions to himself for a long time, but then I had dragged him into the questions without giving him a lot of choice in the matter, and now he wanted to understand. I knew how he felt. It was frustrating to be left in the dark when a person felt so wrapped up in what was going on around them, the way Mrs. Z. was doing to me. I also knew that he was worried about me. It made the necessity of keeping secrets harder to bear.

“You deserve an explanation,” I said.

“Yeah,” Sully agreed.

I teetered on the edge of the truth. At the last second, I gave up. I knew the consequences of telling him behind Mrs. Z.’s back. It was immediate expulsion. I would never be allowed to dream again.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you one,” I said. “Not now.”

“That’s all I get?” Sully asked. “‘I can’t tell you.’ What could be so important that you can’t tell me the truth?”

“More than you think,” I said.

Sully didn’t like my answer, but he didn’t press me. He gave up, sensing that I wasn’t willing to share anything else with him. Keeping the truth was difficult, but I had known things would get complicated when I first started talking to him. Perhaps, he had known the same. Perhaps, it was why he didn’t argue with me to get the truth.

He shook his head again and sighed. “Have it your way…” he said, turning away from me in obvious disappointment. He started to walk away but stopped again ten feet from me. He turned back, his expression distant and withdrawn. “I wanted to tell you that I saw that man again this morning. The one I followed. He came to the shop. He bought a sandwich, talked to me for a minute, then left. His name is Chris, and I got the feeling that he’s going to be in town for a while.”

“Thanks for telling me,” I said, though I wished he hadn’t. It was more proof that Sully had been roped into the danger against his will.

Chris could only have one purpose for going to Sully’s shop: to see if he was a threat. And Sully knew it. Either Chris had seen Sully following him, or he had seen his truck on the road the night Chris and I had first met by knifepoint. I didn’t know what that meant for Sully or me, but I knew it was for a reason I wouldn’t like.

“You should watch your back,” Sully added. “He’s dangerous.”

I nodded at the warning, and Sully eyed the cemetery again, as if he was searching for something else to say, something to patch the distance between us. Nothing could be found among the cold ranks of the dead. He stuck his hands in his coat pocket and turned away. His feet were quiet as he wove his way around the gravestones and back down the hill.

Our conversation left me feeling guilty and infinitely more worried. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep up the act, especially not with Chris poking around in Sully’s life. I wasn’t sure that leaving the mystery alone would keep us safe now. We had meddled too much to get away without consequences. If Chris knew about Sully, did the traitor?

I wasn’t sure there was a clear answer to the mess, beyond hoping that everything would work out in the end.

The fatalism left me cold.

I sighed, my breath swirling to the heavens against the chill that had descended with the rain. I tucked my hands into my jacket and reluctantly followed Sully’s path out of the cemetery and down the hill.