No one had said anything when I got back. I didn’t know what Fabian and Rory told them, but even Eva didn’t push me for answers. I’d walked up to my room and slept the rest of the day.
The next day, I went to Our Shepherd of the Faith Church after school to meet Fabian. Rory had a shift at Mal’s but I was off and Fabian was going to take me home.
He was already sitting there, in the back pew, one AirPod in his ear as he looked up at the altar. Dozens of lit candles flickered just in front of the cross mounted on the wall. I hadn’t really thought about how I was going to get him out of Rearden Falls, or if I would be able to get him out at all. I realized, as I walked in, that I needed to tell Rory what I was planning, so she could do it if I couldn’t.
“You here for confession?” I asked as I slid into the pew.
He looked at me from the corner of his eyes, and I leaned into his shoulder.
“Seph told me you and Rory are spending a lot of time together. She even said she saw her leave your room in one of your shirts early in the morning.”
Fabian exhaled. “She said she wouldn’t say anything about that.”
“Yeah, well. She’s three. What do you want?”
Fabian laughed.
“It’s not what you think. We just . . . fall asleep together. It happened by accident, one night, and it was just . . .” He struggled for words. “It feels good to have someone next to you, you know?” he asked.
I did. The nights with Logan came flooding into my mind, and I managed a slight nod. Fabian realized what he said.
“I’m an asshole. I’m sorry, Eerie. I didn’t even realize—”
I shook my head and looked at him.
“I want you to be able to tell me that you’re in love. I want to hear about it, Fabe, because I’m happy for you. I understand better now. I get how you feel—” I looked at him and noticed how much light there was in his eyes. “You feel . . . happy. You’re happy here?”
He thought about it for a moment, and then nodded.
It was what I wanted for him. I wanted him to be happy.
I was gone for a day, but it felt like everything changed.
He put his arm around me. “You can tell me what happened, you know. I promise not to kill him.”
I sighed. “It wasn’t him, Fabe. I’ll explain one day.”
He let it go, and I was so thankful. I didn’t have it in me to dredge it up, but if there was one person who could have made me tell the whole story, it would be Fabian. I just wasn’t ready.
I craned my neck to look up at him. “What are you listening to?” I asked.
Fabian looked at me like he was trying to decide if he should tell me or not.
“Um. Portuguese.”
“What?” I asked.
Fabian straightened.
“I’ve started to kind of remember . . . Portuguese.”
I stopped. “Since when?”
“Since a few days ago. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to give me this exact panicked look you’re giving me now,” he said, eyeing the hand I’d clamped over the back of the pew. I let it go, and Fabian took my hand.
“It’s okay. Nothing is going to happen, Eerie,” he said.
I didn’t believe him. I don’t think he believed it himself.
* * *
I went to sleep early that night. I wasn’t especially tired, but I didn’t feel like talking.
It felt like I had been out for fifteen minutes when I heard something against my window.
Crack.
I sat up and grabbed the gun from my bedside table.
Click.
I looked outside.
Logan was throwing rocks at my window. I ducked down, looking quickly to Rory and Seph’s beds to make sure it hadn’t woken them. It hadn’t.
Crack.
No. No. This couldn’t be happening.
“Eerie?” I heard him whisper-shout, and I took off. Out of the room, down the stairs until I was in the kitchen, directly below the window.
Reed stood in the dark, wearing a white tank top and gray sweatpants, his hair still wet from the shower. A lit cigarette hung lazily between his fingers. He looked out through the kitchen window, watching Logan.
“Throwing rocks at the window. Didn’t fall for his originality, did you?” he asked. He put the cigarette to his lips, and the end lit up the dark.
I shoved him to the side, so he was hidden behind the refrigerator. I snatched the cigarette out of his hand and threw it into the sink.
Logan threw another rock.
Reed lifted his hands in irritation but let them fall to his sides without a word.
“Just go tell him to stop,” Reed said.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
I couldn’t go out there. I couldn’t look at him. I had no way to explain. And if I heard his voice, if he walked up to me . . . I’d fall apart, and I’d already pieced myself together enough.
Logan threw another rock, and I winced.
“Wow. And just like that. Unraveled by some good hair and pretty eyes,” Reed said.
“Well. You should know,” I shot back. I knew it was a low blow. No one had ever mentioned his unrequited feelings for Rory out loud, and it felt like I’d broken a very important unspoken rule.
He stiffened, and I braced myself for fallout. I waited for him to run upstairs and wake everyone to watch the spectacle. Or for him to invite Logan inside.
Instead, he shrugged. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“What?”
“I’ll get him to go away.”
I couldn’t see well in the dark, but his voice sounded sincere enough.
“Just tell him to go away. Tell him I’m not here.”
“Hey. My methods are my methods.”
“Don’t be a dick, Reed.”
He held his hands up again. “You could go wake Fabian. Take my help or leave it, sweet cheeks.”
Logan threw another rock. I couldn’t risk Logan saying something to Fabian about the Haunt or Railius.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth.
Reed smiled and walked out into the cold. No shoes, no jacket.
I ducked deeper into the darkness, watching from the shadows as Logan noticed Reed.
I couldn’t hear what Reed said, but Logan glanced up at my window.
Logan shook his head and got closer to Reed, his face earnest.
I had to look away. Seeing him was just too much.
I looked up just in time to see Reed shove Logan hard in the chest. I braced myself, getting ready to run into the snow and stop a fight.
But Logan didn’t move. Didn’t shove back. In the porch light, his eyes were drawn. His breath came out in slow, sad puffs against the cold night.
Reed pointed toward the driveway. With one last look at my window, Logan backed off. My heart wrenched.
It’s for the best.
The best for him couldn’t include me. It wasn’t meant to.
Reed came back inside, shivering. Logan disappeared down the driveway.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Isn’t this counterproductive?”
“Please.”
Reed rubbed his hands together. “He told me to tell you that he is going to have a really good time having sex with every girl he can get his paws on. Also that he is in possession of not one, not two, but six different venereal diseases. Also that rock thing wasn’t romantic. He was just trying to break your window because he hates you.”
I gave Reed a flat look as he blew breath into his hands trying to warm them up. He lit his cigarette.
It was probably best I didn’t know what he really said.
“Thanks, Reed,” I said quietly.
He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Don’t mention it. And I mean really, don’t say anything. ’Cause I’ll just turn this whole scenario into some weird sexual encounter involving Eva’s cooking utensils and you’ll regret it.”
“Gross,” I said, turning around.
And even though my heart was broken, I smiled. Because it was as close to “you’re welcome” as he was ever gonna get.
* * *
It was quick. One minute I was drifting with Rory, looking into a campfire, and then the next I was there.
Ironbark.
Madeline Winspeare stood in front of the mirror, looking at a picture of Logan on the windowsill. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her orange jumpsuit was a harsh color against her pale skin.
I took it in. Everything from the bunk bed in the reflection to the tiny smudges on the glass.
She looked up and spoke. I couldn’t hear her words.
Sam MacDonald stepped up behind her, his navy uniform stark against the white walls. His dark hair was pushed back, and his face was pained. His voice was clear. “I know you don’t want to hear it, Madeline, but that doesn’t change anything. I love you, and I won’t let you give up without a fight.”
Madeline’s eyes hardened. “Well. I don’t love you, Sam. I don’t. Do you understand?”
Sam stopped, looking past Madeline, past where I could see from my vantage point.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, looking back to Madeline in the reflection. She wouldn’t turn and look at him, but she met his eyes through the mirrored glass.
She shook her head, but her strained expression didn’t change.
Sam walked to the door. “I don’t believe you.”
“You have no choice,” she said.
Sam opened the door, slipped out, and then let it close behind him.
Madeline’s face crumpled, and she brought her hands to her face. Deep sobs pulled from her, and the muscles in her neck bulged.
“Why would you do that?” a muffled voice behind me asked. “You know what happens tonight. Why would you turn him away?”
I tried to turn to see who it was, but I couldn’t.
Madeline lowered the hands from her face.
“Because he will destroy himself trying to save me. I can’t let him do that.”
“Because you love him?” the voice asked. She didn’t argue. I could see the pain in her eyes.
And then I was falling.
Down past the tile floor of the cell, deep into darkness.
I landed hard in my bed, sitting up in a panic.
Madeline loved Sam.
Sam loved Madeline.
Nausea stirred in my chest, and I closed my eyes hard against it.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to think.
Three people in the room, but I could only see two.
Fabian and I were the only Hushed to survive Ironbark. Every other Hushed died in that place. We were the only ones who would know the truth. I knew Sam loved Madeline.
“Eerie?”
I opened my eyes. Rory sat on my bed.
“Did you see it?” I asked.
“See what?” she asked, and I fell backward against my pillow in relief.
“My secret,” I replied.
“No.”
I put my hand on my forehead. At least not everyone had seen it. I’d broken loose from the drift before it showed. I had a little more time, then, before Fabian found out everything.
Madeline loved Sam, but she wanted him to be free.
The sentence weighed heavy on my chest.
This was it.
This was my secret. I felt sick with it. The Pull had finally arrived.
Rory moved closer.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, lifting the covers and sliding in next to me.
For the first time since this whole thing started, I realized that I did want to talk about it. Rory lay on her side and took my hand. She squeezed it three times. I squeezed hers four and told her everything.