It feels as if the dead are listening when the boy finally answers.
“I believe you. Others won’t, but I do.”
“What does it mean?” she asks.
“It means you’re special. You have a gift.”
The girl looks at the boy. “Does everyone have a gift?”
“Not everyone. Just some of us.”
“Do you have one?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. Maybe.”
Another memory. Another snapshot. This is not what I’m looking for, so I close the door on the graveyard and continue down the hall until I stumble, my feet moving faster than my body can keep up with.
The flame on my candle flickers and then goes out, the walls seeming to close in on me as the corridor is plunged into darkness. He must be here somewhere—he has to be—but there are no more doors, just black walls. I push forwards until I hit something hard and solid.
The candle slips through my fingers as two hands grab hold of my arms.
“Angel.” Valdemar’s face comes into focus.
“I can’t find Ed,” I tell him, panic setting in my voice. “He’s supposed to be here, but I can’t find him. It’s just memories. All the doors are memories.”
“Maybe those memories are what you need to hold on to,” he suggests.
“I want to make new ones.” Tears sting the back of my eyes.
“So do I,” he says.
“You were supposed to bring him.” I place my clenched fist on his chest.
He wraps his hand around my balled fist. “I said I would try. I won’t give up if it means that much to you.”
“It does,” I tell him.
He pulls me into an embrace and strokes my hair. “Then I won’t give up.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Friday night’sdream was much the same as Thursday’s. I wandered the house, walking into rooms that were filled with memories. There was one of Ed and me one Christmas when I ate a full selection box before six in the morning and then couldn’t open the rest of my presents because I felt so sick. Then a memory of the first time Ed and I went to swimming lessons, and he was so scared of the water that I had to hold his hand as we lowered ourselves in, the instructor scolding us before Valdemar arrived looking sorrowful and promising he would try again.
Saturday night’s dream took me back to when Ed first got the job at the casino and how I’d made fun of him in his new uniform even though he knew I secretly admired how smart he looked. But it isn’t memories I’m after. I already have these locked away for safekeeping. I want to talk to Ed now, to speak to him, to hear his voice. Is that so unreasonable?
Tonight is Sunday, and it’s the last night before Valdemar’s release, after which I’ll have to decide whether to abandon this foolish quest or go to Valdemar’s stupid party and demand he find another way.
Pulling the sheets up around me, I settle into a comfortable position, sending out my silent nightly prayer that tonight will be the night I am reunited with my brother.
The voices reach me first.
“All bets are off.”
“What are the odds?”
“Aces high, folks.”
My toes squish into the blood-red carpet, my hand clenched around a glass.
