Evie doesn’t say a word when I pass it over. A single tear falls down his cheek, smearing the eyeliner and staining his pale skin a darker shade of grey.
“I think he misses you.”
“I miss him too.” Another tear joins the first, his trembling fingers touching the stick figures reverently, “My little drop of sunshine.”
There’s a long stretch of painful, yearnful silence.
“You may not have chosen this life but you do get to choose the people you love.” A pang of homesickness splinters my chest, “And if you’re really lucky, they might choose to love you too.”
It took me years to realize my crew wasn’t just a clump of misfits or a string of runaways. We weren’t rescue animals from the street, desperate for the slightest bit of affection to be thrown our way.
We were independent people, searching for shelter and acceptance.
What we found was a family instead.
“One. Nine. Three. Seven.”
“What?”
“One. Nine. Three. Seven.”
He doesn’t look away from Dorian’s drawing, “That’s the code you will need to get into my mother’s glass coffin. Follow the crates until you see a cabinet with an apple sitting on the top shelf. Twist it forty-five degrees to the left and that’s where you will find her resting place.”
My stunned silence fills the room.
“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for the guy who never got the chance to throw a coin down the wishing well.”
Evie starts to grin, a lopsided smile that starts at the corner of his mouth and grows until it encompasses his face, “And I never did like the old hag all that much.”
A bark of laughter slips free, “I’ll pass along your condolences.”
There’s still a smile staining his face when I turn and start following the crates.
“Oh, and Evie?”
He looks over at me, the soft glow in his eyes akin to a single drop of sunshine.
“I know someone who would be pretty fucking upset if you left this world without saying goodbye.” My eyes drop to the forbidden love clenched between his fingers, “Maybe think about that the next time you consider drinking a bottle of bleach.”
A blush darkens his cheeks, “Dorian deserves better.”
“Not in his mind. And I think we can both agree he, of all people, deserves a happy ending.”
It’s the message I want lingering in his mind, the reminder that he’s not alone. Even when the darkness beckons, there’s always going to be one person in his corner waiting to pull him out.
Whether it’s true or not.
I’m about to leave when another thought hits me. Pausing mid-pivot, I look back at the witch who never did get the chance to make his dreams come true.
“How did you know I would be here tonight?”
“At White Castle?”
“At Evelyn’s birthday party.”
Evie frowns, his eyes darting across my face, “This entire party was arranged to welcome you to the town. My sister has not openly celebrated a birthday since she was twenty-one.”
The confession stops me in my tracks.
