It makes me mad as hell that she’s so scared. I should have left her in the hall, but I don’tjustread epistolary conduct books out of sheer boredom. I’ve read some of Evelyn’s psychology journals too. I know all about stuff like exposure therapy.
The only way Sybil’s going to get over her fear, is to face it head on with someone she trusts.
Not sure if that someone is me, but I’m all she has.
This room isn’t locked.
Unlike the kitchen, none of us would dare to go inside here.
Usually, we’re dragged.
That’s why it makes the perfect hiding place.
I swear, my heart’s pounding a mile a minute as I fumble for the light string. An ugly amber bulb flickers on above us, and Sybil risks a quick peek over her shoulder before curling into a ball against my chest.
These stairs don’t creak like the attic stairs, and I’ve never been able to figure out why. But I’m grateful.
A dry, musty smell hits my nose when we reach the basement floor, and my stomach coils uneasily as the familiar scent triggers an almost feral flight-or-fight response inside me.
“I’m going to put you down for a second?—“
“No, no, no!” Sybil grips me tighter, which still isn’t all that tight. “Promise you won’t let me go, Bash!”
This was a bad idea. I need my hands.
“You’re being silly, Billy,” I tease, keeping her suspended with one shaking arm as I brush her mousy brown hair out of her face. “The floor won’t swallow you.”
She protests with a soft moan as I let her slip down and then throws her arms around my waist. Her head barely comes up to my chest, but I’m tall for my age, and she’s…well, she’s just a sack of bones.
The boiler rumbles away to itself in the corner, the orange light from the stairs barely picking out more than its bulky silhouette in the thick, stuffy darkness.
I make sure not to look too hard at anything else in the room.
Just because I’m brave enough to come down here sometimes when I need to hide something from Evelyn, doesn’t mean this place doesn’t give me the damn heebie jeebies.
Something moves in the dark on the opposite side of the room, and if I hadn’t clapped a hand over my mouth, I’d have squealed as loudly as Sybil.
Okay, fine.
This place scares the bejesus out of me.
“Quiet!” I snap, covering her mouth. “You want The Witch to find us down here?”
“Let’s go, let’s go!” Sybil begs shrilly the moment I take my hand away. “Please, Bash. Please!”
“Shh!” I grab her by the scruff of her neck and drag her after me as I make a beeline for the dusty shelves beside the boiler. I make a detour around seeming nothing, but I could draw this room’s layout in my sleep.
“You’re gonna love this, trust me.”
“I’m nooooot,” Sybil whines, but at least she does it quietly. And she doesn’t resist, doesn’t run away.
I guess she doesn’t dare. There’s a pool of darkness between us and the stairs now. And we both know what lurks there. What I’d been so careful to avoid.
Dust coats my fingers as I hunt around in the dark, but I find what I’m looking for a second later. Sybil’s face scrunches up as I light a match, then her green eyes go wide. She starts to turn around, trying to look over her shoulder, but I grab her chin and wrench her face forward again, leaving dust smudges on her pale skin.
“Eyes on me, Billy.”
Her lips quiver. “I wanna go.”
