Pain, more of it, split the back of his head. He wanted to lift a hand and touch the spot, to check if his skin had parted and his skull was exposed, but even moving his heavy arm seemed impossible. “I don’t feel good.”
Genuine concern sang across every aspect of Edward’s face. He wrapped an arm around William’s side and guided him out of the attic without saying another word. Each step was hard to take, but William focused on putting one foot before the other, relieved that Edward was there to support him.
“You haven’t eaten anything today, have you?” Edward asked, and every ounce of panic had disappeared from his voice.
William knew what he was suggesting and had the feeling he was right. “I didn’t. Stupid of me, I know.”
“Then you need to lay down. I will sort you something to eat, and then we can talk about the next steps.”
“About leaving?”
Fuck Hanbury, fuck his hopes and wishes for a future. He got the impression that if he stayed here a moment longer, he wouldn’t have one. And he’d only just come to terms with the desire that he did really want a life beyond these seven, hellish days.
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” William added when Edward refused to speak.
“Neither do I, Will. But you’re in no fit state to walk anywhere, are you?”
Edward was right – more than right, actually. William could barely walk down the stairs, and he had no hope of reaching Stonewell. “No.”
They got back to the bedroom they shared where Edward helped William into the bed. He admitted to himself that laying down certainly helped the swaying that overcame him. The world seemed to settle the moment his head hit the pillow. It was hard to keep his eyes open.
“What time is it?” William managed, aware that the light beyond the window was dull. He couldn’t tell if it was the weather or the time of day.
“Late enough that you could call this sleep a nap,” Edward replied. With careful hands, he tucked William in, wrapping him in the thick duvet, swaddling him in the protection of silk and feathers. “I’ll wake you when some food is ready.”
A thought niggled at the back of William’s mind. Edward had been so persistent not to leave William’s side when he slept, but now he was speaking like he had other plans than to stay with him. For fear of sounding pathetic, William bit down on his tongue, stopping the plea from leaving him.
“All right?” Edward opened the conversation of consent to what he’d just suggested.
William fought to keep his eyes open. Before he gave in to this exhaustion, he loosened his tongue and exposed his weakness. “Don’t leave me yet. At least not until I’m asleep.Please.”
The bed shifted as Edward sat beside him. A soft hand laid upon his warm forehead, brushing the strands of sticky hair away with languid brushes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
If William had the energy to say it, he would’ve told Edward not to mention dreams. He didn’t wish to have any. Not like those he’d suffered with the last time he slept. But before he could muster the words – form them in his mouth and speak them into existence – the darkness waiting in the corner of his mind swallowed him whole.
He half expected Archie to be waiting for him in the dark, but what was there turned out to be worse.
William Thorn was truly alone.
Edward did as he promised and waited until William’s breathing evened. He wanted to stay and comfort him, but there was no telling how long he’d sleep for, and there was something hehadto do.
He left the bedroom, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. The door clicked shut and Edward waited, ear pressed to it, just to ensure William hadn’t woken up. Once he was confident he wouldn’t be followed, Edward moved back to the stairs. Not to go down to the kitchen, not yet. He walked back up, entered the attic and found the spot on the floor that had captured his attention earlier.
Besides the shattered glass, which coated the floor like shards of deadly snow, he looked down upon the words carved into the wood.
Edward’s dark truth was spelled out on the floor in jagged, harsh lines.
Hehadto remove the evidence. He had to do something to conceal what had been etched into the wood by the glass.
Edward gathered up the largest shard he could find and began gouging each demand the spirit left for him, from the wood by making deeper grooves. Lost to his desperate madness, Edward worked continuously, all without noticing how the shard was slowly cutting into his palm. There was no pain, not as his anxiety devoured it. The gentle trickle of blood over his knuckles laid a path that would lead William to the truth, like Hansel and Gretel’s trail of crumbs.
He had only one desire: to keep the truth to himself. At least for a few more days. If William found out, everything he’d come to Hanbury to achieve would be for nothing. Except, that knowing hurt him now. More so than the glass severing his soft palms. Deep down, Edward wanted to be ready to face it – to tear down the walls he put up between himself and William. Expose everything. But one thing was still, Edward Jones was far too weak of a man for the truth to come out.
It would hurt him, yes. But the truth would destroy William. And for that, he would need to hide it.
The spirit, however, had other plans.
Just when he thought it was over, the taunting scratching sound began again.
