I raised an eyebrow. “Prove it?”
“Prove you’re not scared.” He closed his laptop, swivelled in his chair to face me and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me about the exorcism.”
Prove it, prove it, prove it.
The Devil had challenged me in the cafe, and I failed. I could not fail again.
“Do you really want to know?” I asked.
Nathaniel nodded.
And so, I told him. I told him everything—the rope around my wrists, the linen cupboard, the mirrored room, the night I found Auden trapped in a circle of flames. I recounted it all as though the memories weren’t mine, as though I had merely watched it all unfold through a screen or on a page.
“And then what happened?” Nathaniel asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I passed out and when I woke up…my father told me my mother was gone.”
“Shit,” Nathaniel whispered, “I can’t believe you went through all that.”
“It was a long time ago.”
Nathaniel shook his head, the look in his eye a blend of sympathy and determination. “That’s not something you can just…forget.”
He was right. Over ten years had passed and yet I still carried the memory of that night as though it were yesterday. And it wasn’t just that night that haunted me. It was the years building up to it—the years of being told I wasn’tgood.That I had the Devil inside of me.
“I want to help you,” Nathaniel went on. “Find her, that is. If Joe responds to the email with an address, let me come with you.”
“What?”
“Let me come with you,” he repeated.
“Why? This has…nothing to do with you and–”
“I know. But I can be there to support you. To be a…friend.”
“You’re not my friend.”
A flicker of hurt crossed his face. “I could be…if you let me.”
“I told you I–”
“–am not a good friend. I don’t care. I’m not letting you return to that monster alone.”
I averted my gaze, shifting in my chair so there was more space between us. The room suddenly felt too crowded. Too hot. I rationalised that Nathaniel didn’treallycare about me. He just wanted to use the God’s Soldiers Church for his extra credit.
“What are you so afraid of?” Nathaniel pushed. “Why won’t you let us be friends when we clearly get along pretty well?”
“I don’t want to get hurt.”
Nathaniel frowned. “You think I will hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ll…I’ll ruin it. It’ll be my fault. And I just…” I stood up abruptly, gathering my things. I didn’t want to talk about this. It was bad enough reliving one period of my life, I didn’t want to revisit another.
“Augustus.” Nathaniel’s fingers caught my wrist, his body towering over mine as he rose from his chair. “Sit. Please.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“I won’t force you to talk about it,” he said, “just don’t leave, okay?”
