Yes. I said that. Why did I say that? “Yes.”
“Did you take it?”
There’s nothing left to offer but a painful laugh. “No. I can’t take a journal she still writes in every day.”
“Why is it bugging you?”
“Because it’s filled with cryptic stuff that doesn’t make any sense yet something tells me if I could read the whole thing it might make perfect sense.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
“Sorry? No! You’re not going anywhere near her. Watch or no watch. Were you not listening to me? She still writes in it. If it shows up missing, there’s a short list of people who could be accused, and I’m on that list.”
Oscar nods—but it’s not a nod that I like. It’s a nod that tells me he’s planning something.
“Promise me you won’t steal it.”
His gaze shifts to mine. “I promise.”
“Oscar.”
“What? I said I promise. What more do you want?”
“Time. I need you to leave for real this time. I need some time to focus on me and do what’s best for me. Nellie already knows I’m taking a few days or maybe even a few weeks off. Go home. Please. I’m going to look for that place I was at before everythingended.” Minus Theodore. Can that place exist without him? I hope so.
Oscar pushes off the worktop and brings me into his embrace. “As you wish, Ruby.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
My name is Scarlet Stone and for my twelfth birthday, Oscar gave me a signed first edition ofSherlock Holmesby Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, an Inverness cape, and a deerstalker cap.
Life doesn’t havean off button, at least not one you can press and still be alive. The truth is, I could leave. I could go anywhere in the world. I could find places and people who would nourish my body and my mind and maybe this fucking leach called cancer would vanish for good. However, I fear the damage it would do to me to get there.
The lies.
The manipulating.
The stealing.
I may not have told Theo the whole truth, but even my lies were wrapped in dreams of reality. That has to count for something. Six months of being a Scarlet Stone that I didn’t recognize was part of what started to cure my cancer. I can’t prove it. True miracles don’t need to be justified. It’s my truth and that’s all that matters. I will never need anyone to believe me as long as I’m my own living proof.
Filling the Theodore Reed void in my heart makes concentrating, meditating, eating, sleeping, andbreathingfeel impossible. One breath. One day at a time. It’s been a week, and I haven’t heard from anyone, not even Oscar. He left with a kiss, a smile, and a nod. No goodbye. I suppose the most personal relationships in life eventually live on their own—without words, without explanation. He knows I love him and I know he loves me. That’s why we’re here… I think.
I still steep herbs Yimin gave me. I drink carrot juice. I avoid alcohol. I eat unprocessed foods. I meditate for hours. I read and read and read. Some days I feel quite inspired. Some days I think of Theo and smile instead of cry. Some days I wake with my hands folded under my chin, very angelically, instead of down my knickers molesting myself.
Today I wake late to a knock at my door.
“Scarlet Stone?” The delivery man asks.
“Yes.” I cover my mouth with my fist to hide my yawn.
“Delivery. I just need your signature.” He hands me the tablet and I sign for the small parcel.
“Thank you.” I shut the door and rip into it.
A mobile. It’s like sending an alcoholic a bottle of vodka. When I open the actual mobile box there’s a note on the inside.
For your reading pleasure.
