Alec watched Circe walk away.
Circe watched Alec as she walked away.
The sun reflected off colorful hanging sea glass, sending blueish-green stars to dance about the market, blinding them.
But Alec, a romantic, returned the next day.
That time, when he locked eyes with her, she smiled.
Alec clutched his chest, weak in the knees, causing Circe to laugh.
The day after that, he waved. A small lift of his fingers.
It went on like this for an entire year, the pining, the patience, the anticipation. No one knew of Alec and Circe’s silent, sacred moments. These were theirs, and theirs alone.
But that was all they were.
Silent gazes. Sacred moments. Surreptitious seconds.
Until one of them was unable to hold back any longer.
CHAPTER 13
STONE
Nightmares took me for a ride,and when I awoke, cries pierced the black sky. The gentle weeping of the cliff was like a creature prowling the ever-night. I lay silent, still, listening to them and wondering what was happening here.
This place was called Weeping Hollow—a town that wept after evenfall.Weeping Hollow, the two words Mother had whispered in her sleep under all phases of the moon.
When daylight came, I fed the fire and wrapped the blanket the lady had left around my shoulders. Once the soft fur brushed the inside of my hands, scattered memories ransacked my mind. Keepsakes clung to the stitched-in hair.
The image appeared distorted at first, blurry, like a haze trying to work itself out. Once the smoke cleared, I was transported to a cozy room:warped,black and white animated images bouncing off an ivory wall like a moving picture; tiny hands tossing popcorn kernels and little girls with smiles carved into their faces; giggling, a lot of giggling, hushing, and clicking.
The image morphed into another memory:a woman with black hair lying in a bed and the girl curled beside her—tears soaking into the fur blanket.Locked in these memories, I clutched the blanket tightly with my other fist as the image seesawed and fizzled. Desperate, I clung tighter, wringing every drop until the last memory of the same blonde-haired girl was all grown up.She lay beside me with tear-drop breasts pressed against my chest, fire licking our skin. Shadows shivered on the walls of the cave—her song surrounded me like an ocean ballet.
The wind whistled through the cliff’s cracks, sucking me out of the final memory like my soul was exhumed from my body.
My ability to still unearth memories hadn’t left me, and disappointment threaded through my bones. I ripped off the blanket and tossed it to the side, wishing I had not known. Lying naked with the woman who bore the same eyes and face I’d drawn was a rare moment. One that would forever be a part of me, but a moment I may never be a part of again.
I never had a thing to my name, but here in Weeping Hollow, I had this memory of the two of us together that belonged to me. Another curse if the demons had their way.
“They will only disappoint,”Mother’s words rang inside the cave. A shudder. I looked around, but Mother was nowhere to be found.
Only the ghost of her whispers in my head.
I heard her whispers since I’d escaped from the frozen place. Though Mother was gone, her location unbeknownst to me, the mockery she left behind ran deep in my blood. It had a way of carrying on, reminding me that I shouldn’t feel this way toward the first person who’d shown me kindness. I shouldn’t get attached or set myself up for disappointment. But even when winter felt like ice, it was much colder each time Mother called out to me.
“Come, Stone,”Mother’s voice swelled inside my head this time.
With my spine stiff, chest bare, knees bent, and long arms wrapped around them, I lifted my head and looked upon the lighthouse in the distance as if it were the place she was calling me to.
Breathing hard, I shook my head, wishing Mother would go away.
I remembered what she’d done to me—what she had put me through.
I remembered everything.
I remembered not being able to move, not being able to breathe.
