“This is my favorite movie.”
I take a seat near him and notice his cast is covered by a towel. I’m not even sure he’s aware it’s there.
“What is it?” It’s actually not his favorite movie and it’s in French, so I doubt he’s understanding much of anything since he lost most of his French when he got sick. His long-term memory is far stronger than his short-term.
“That one we saw together on our first date.”
I smile and reach out to touch him. He thinks I’m my mother, and right now, I’ll gladly take it.
“Oh, I remember it now. Can I sit and watch with you for a while?”
He doesn’t reply, but after a few moments he asks, “Where’s Amy?”
My heart hiccups in my chest at how he uses the nickname he gave me when I was a girl—the nickname only he uses—and now there is no stopping the tears.
I’m right here, Dad.
“I’m not sure,” I say because I have no idea how to answer. “We went to the winter festival in Tourin today.”
He sneers at me. “Tourin? Where the hell is that?” And I can see it. The agitation is setting in, and I know I don’t have long with him. I sit here quietly, watching whatever the hell this is with him until the nurse comes in with his supper. I say goodbye to him, but he hardly acknowledges me, and I leave with my heart in my feet.
I have no idea if Sebastian is back or not, but as I turn the corner on the second floor, going to my room to change into something more comfortable before dinner, I hear a high-pitched sound I can’t identify, followed by both girls screaming at the tops of their lungs.
Alarm races through me.What in the hell is that?
7
BELLAMY
Irace down the hall as fast as my feet can go when I hear yet another scream from the girls. Adrenaline courses through my veins, my heart hammering in my chest, and I round the corner and shoot straight for their door. Without hesitation I plow through it, practically slamming straight into Phaedra.
“Girls! Are you okay? What’s going on?” My head whips around the room, but other than a bit of a mess and a knocked-over desk chair, I don’t see anyone or anything that’s a visible threat.
“Yes,” Sabrina says quickly, almost too quickly. “We’re absolutely fine. We were…um. Fighting.”
“Fighting?” I question incredulously, the word almost foreign on my tongue. These girls rarely, if ever, fight. “No, no way. I heard screaming.”
“Yes. Uh…Sabrina was being mean.”
“I was not!” she shrieks, only Phaedra is giving her a meaningful look that makes her blanch. “Oh. Right. I was being mean. Everything is better now. Can you go see if Papa is home yet? When’s dinner? I’mstarving.”
They start to push me—actually, physically push me—toward the door. I twist away from them and hold up my hand. “Nuh-uh. What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange since the festival.”
That’s when I hear a loud chattering sound and my eyes bulge out of my head.
“What the fu—heck is that?” I quickly correct my near f-bomb slip, but yeah, what thefuckis that? Both girls are staring at me with wide, innocent eyes.
“What? I didn’t hear anything.”
I glare at Sabrina. “Do not play me for a fool. What was that noise?”
Two sets of fingers point toward Sabrina’s bed. “It’s under there.”
“It?! What isit?”
“He’s just a little afraid,” Phaedra promises. “But he’s very sweet and we want to keep him.”
Oh, shit.
