“That doesn’t sound good.” Wesley made a face.
“It’s not,” Galen confirmed. “Hadley crossed the symbol?—”
“You don’t cross strange symbols,” Wesley barked at me.
I was so happy to have him back, despite the circumstances, all I could do was smile.
“It was a plane door, Wesley,” Galen said, drawing my grandfather’s attention back to him. “Hadley went to another plane … where things got weird.”
“Weird?” Wesley wrinkled his nose. “This whole story is weird.”
“Brace yourself,” I said. “It’s about to get weirder.”
I took over, filling him in on everything he’d missed. When I mentioned seeing my mother, he shifted, obviously upset. Then I got to the part about going to Declan’s house and seeing my mother in the mural and he looked downright ornery.
“I remember Declan Wilkes,” he said. “He was a monster.”
“We believe he was,” Galen confirmed. “We also believe he’s on that other plane. The question is, were you there or were you always in the cemetery?”
“How did I get to the cemetery?”
“We don’t know.” Galen held out his hands. “It was a fluke that we were even there, Wesley. Hadley has been struggling since seeing her mother, and I thought she might need a reality check, so I brought her to the cemetery.”
I frowned. “That’s not how you phrased it to me,” I complained.
“I was worried.” Galen sent me a defiant look. “You were spending too much time thinking about your mother when I was convinced you didn’t really cross paths with her.”
“I hate to agree with Galen here,” Wesley started.
“Then don’t,” I fired back.
He ignored me. “Your mother died on the mainland, sweetheart. How would she end up on another plane that magically has a door in my field? That doesn’t make sense.”
He was right, but I didn’t want to admit it. “Let’s move on,” I said crisply.
Galen sighed. “We came here because I was hoping to help her settle. We were going through Declan’s file whenwe noticed that your daughter kept trying to get inside the building where you were. Then I heard you.”
“I woke up there,” Wesley explained. “I’m not sure how long ago. It was still light out. I was wobbling on my feet and kept passing out. When I finally came to long enough to survey my surroundings, it was dark and I couldn’t leave.”
“You hadn’t been in there the whole time?” I asked.
“I don’t think so, but things are fuzzy.”
“That’s because you suffered a blow to the head,” a male voice said from the door.
I almost jumped out of my skin. When I swiveled, I found one of the doctors — Eric Anderson — studying us.
Wesley reached to touch his head, wincing when he found something tender. “I guess I did.”
“He doesn’t have a brain bleed or anything, does he?” I asked.
“We’ll make sure he’s okay,” Anderson promised me. “We’re lining up a battery of tests.”
“Pass.” Wesley waved his hand. “I’m fine.”
Anderson, thankfully, couldn’t be bullied. “You’re not fine. You’re weak. You need food. We need to be certain your brain isn’t bleeding.”
He’s right,” Galen insisted. “You’re getting every test there is.”
