Stone’s gaze settled on me. “At least she hasn’t forgotten her sense of humor.”
I wrapped the sheet around me. “My sister sings to me,” I told him, embarrassed he had to witness it. “I’m an adult, and my big sister still sings to me,” I laughed lightly, “but Ivy’s the only one who could really get me out of it safely. If not, I’d walk right out of the cottage and on to the beach.”
Stone laid his head back. “What about your mother?”
I clutched the sheet, suddenly feeling colder. “What about my mother?”
“Are you close to her?” He had an elbow resting against the arm of the chair, his chin resting between his thumb and forefinger. A casual posture for a heavy question.
“My mother hasn’t spoken to me in over ten years,” I said, knowing I didn’t have to tell him but wanted to. I kept my eyes on my two webbed toes as if they would give me the power to keep going. “When I was five, they said she started going crazy, and on my sixth birthday, she tried to escape town and take me with her.”
I looked up at him. “She was so determined, too. She thought she could swim across an entire ocean. And no one really knows how far the sea goes, but when we were swimming, she had this look in her eyes that made me believe we could make it.” My eyes slung to the right as I shook my head. “I sound crazy when I say it out loud.”
Stone opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
A swallow. A subtle shake of his head.
“You’re not,” he finally said. “Crazy, that is.”
“Yeah, well, people in town don’t like things that can’t be controlled, and I guess there came a point where no one could control the crazy woman who wanted to swim away. So, they put her in a catatonic state, and she’s been that way for almost ten years.” I dropped my head to the side. “Let’s just say the one who governs Weeping Hollow takes great pleasure in controlling everything inside. Me included.”
“This town is your glass bottle,” he said, resolved. “You speak of heathens you hate with passion because they murdered your friends ... shadows who take people in their sleep, and a leader who controls you. I don’t understand why you’re so eager to leave me and return to Weeping Hollow each night.”
“Because, Stone, I’m not any better,” I said, and the way he watched me scared me. “I’m a terrible person.”
I had nothing to lose by telling him.
How he thought of me did not impact my life back on the mainland.
Bone Island was an escape, but it had also become a place to share secrets, so we didn’t have to carry them alone.
“For years, I’ve been having homicidal thoughts—” Stone shifted in the chair, sitting up straighter, but I continued anyway. This would make parting easier when the time would come. “—Maybe you’re right, and I’ve been angry for so long it’s really starting to catch up to me. Sometimes I think I’m going crazy like my mother. And sometimes I’m afraid that maybe one day they’ll all find out.”
“I have never crossed paths with a soul who hasn’t experienced violent urges.” Stone leaned in, his voice low. “Even the purest of hearts are drawn to wicked things.”
“But what if I told you I’d killed before?” I added.
Stone became quiet, his eyes never leaving me.
Say something, I wanted to scream.
And then, “Well, have you?”
“Yes,” I said, and I looked up to the ceiling, exhaling, the pressure leaving me at finally telling someone the truth. “Her name was Lena Murphy, and she was in a prison cell awaiting execution. They were preparing to burn her for trying to save her husband.” When I dropped my head, my gaze fell upon him. “So, I visited her before nightfall and slit her wrists so she didn’t have to suffer.”
I waited for him to say something.
He said nothing.
“I’m also planning to kill again. I want to kill the man who did this to my mother,” I confessed because he was so quiet, and I couldn’t stop talking. These were my secrets, and it was time he knew about me. “He cursed her, and she’s been trapped in absolute torment. The only way to save her is to kill him.”
But he just stared, and I wanted to crawl into myself.
I couldn’t stand the silence. “Does this scare you?” I asked him.
“Circe, yes, this scares me,” he said from a held breath. “I know—” He paused with a distant look in his eyes. Like he was thinking but didn’t need to look away from me to do it.
He dropped his head, wet his lips, and looked back up at me. “My mother killed for what she believed was the right reason. Over time, it changed her into something I didn’t recognize, and in the end, I can only assume this was what got her killed. So, if you’re asking me if this scares me, the answer is yes,” he said. He was already looking at me, but I felt his gazefallon me. “I care about what happens to you, and I’m afraid this will one day take you away from me.”
