Felix didn’t look at me when he spoke.
“The Craven is a pause. A breath held between what was meant to end and what refuses to.” He glanced at the mirror. “Some pass through without ever knowing. Others…” His eyes slid my way. “…feed it.”
My pulse quickened. “What do you mean, feed it?”
“Sin, Poppet. It feeds on sin and guilt.” Felix looked back at the clock. “You felt it. The way this place strips you down to the bone. It doesn’t care who you wish you were. Only who you are when no one is watching.”
I swallowed. The room felt smaller with every word. “So, it punishes you?”
“Punishment implies morality,” Felix snickered. “The Craven is far more honest than that.”
“But I saw her.”
He glanced back at me. “Did you?”
I did. She was right there in the mirror. I smelled her and could almost touch her.
“Do you really think your sister would be here, in this place?”
Yes.
No.
“I don’t know.”
“That wasn’t your sister, Poppet. It was your guilt.” He waved his hand around the room. “The Craven simply showed it to you.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It will.”
Flynn made a sound—a quiet, involuntary hitch in his steady breath. Felix’s gaze flickered to him for just a second. I could’ve sworn something like grief cracked through his composure.
“This place remembers,” Felix said more to himself than to me. “Every choice ever made inside its walls. Especially the ones people swear they’d never make again.”
The clock ticked another minute, the sound deeper this time.
Felix straightened and squared his shoulders like he was bracing for something. “When the bells begin, you’ll understand what staying costs.”
His eyes met mine.
“It’s time for you to choose.”
The first chime rang through the air. It rolled through the room like a pulse, deep and final.
Flynn stiffened, his back arched, and his head snapped up as if yanked by an invisible string. A sharp breath tore from his chest, then cut short as his body seized.
“What’s happening?”
“Every choice has a consequence, Poppet.” Felix looked over at his brother as his fingers curled and uncurled, clawing at the carpet. “This is mine.”
Another chime rang out, and Flynn’s shoulder hit the floor. His legs drew in tight while his body jerked in violent, helpless spasms.
“Help him.” I jumped off the bed and rushed over to Flynn. “Do something.”
“There’s nothing we can do.”
Felix continued to stare at the clock while I tried desperately to do something. Ease his pain, comfort him, anything. But the more I touched Flynn, the more his painted-on smile cracked and split at the corners. And it got worse with each chime.
