Panacea had told him to just be himself, too. So Winter tried to settle into the comfort of that. If he let himself, he could forget that he was here for Panacea at all. That this was just another concert, and just another sleepless night on tour.
The smile on Eli Morrison’s face appeared in his thoughts, and the unpleasant churn in his stomach returned.
A faint click came from the other side of the house.
The melodies Winter was quietly composing in the back of his head cut off. He bolted upright, waves splashing against the sides of the pool, at the same time Leo’s and Dameon’s heads swiveled in sync toward the door.
Sydney’s figure materialized from the darkness of the main foyer, her blond hair dampened with rain.
“Hey, Ashley,” Leo said with a wave of his hand.
Winter felt some of the tension ebb from his body at the sight of her. Then he took in her expression.
Something had gone wrong.
He was careful not to show it on his face. Instead, he made a show of rubbing water out of his eyes as the boys both called out their greetings to her. Sydney headed over, then stopped near the stairs and put her hands in her pockets, waiting hesitantly.
“Didn’t want to bother you guys,” she said.
Dameon shot Leo a look, and the two exchanged a subtle nod. Then Dameon stood up, stretching. “We should be calling it a night, anyway,” he replied. “We have a pretty early rehearsal.”
“EightA.M.,” Leo added. “No rest for the jet-lagged.” He stood up and followed in Dameon’s wake, nodding once in Winter’s direction. “You too. If you show up later than us tomorrow, you have to wear a white leotard to the after-party.”
Winter couldn’t help cracking a smile. “Deal.”
He watched the boys leave. When the front door finally closed behind them, Sydney walked over to sit beside him at the edge of the pool. He was suddenly aware of being nearly naked in front of her.
So what? It was just Sydney. Still, he noticed her gaze hitching for a beat on his chest, then quickly skipping away.
“Hey,” he whispered as she leaned her head down toward him. “What happened?”
Sydney’s voice was barely perceptible. “We’ve got a problem,” she replied.
13
What Haunts the Heart
Sydney had the uncanny ability to know when she was dreaming, but not the power to shake herself awake.
Tonight, she was back at the local hospital in Havenville, sitting in her mother’s room. She could hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor droning in her ears, smell the tang of phenol cleaner clinging to the air, feel the bed’s stiff hospital sheets as she rested her elbows against them. When she looked down at her feet, she saw that she was wearing her ratty old boots from when she was fourteen.
Everything in her wanted to shrink away. She hated, hated,hatedremembering. Hated that she couldn’t stop her brain from going here. Hated that small things on a mission could trigger these dreams. Hated that she couldn’t run far enough from them. Hated that she couldn’t break out of them.
What had set her off this time? The sudden reminder of her mortality as she did the failed run to the mailbox? The tense conversation she’d had with Winter after she returned, as they figured out what to do next? The planning of a new drop right before she’d gone to bed?
The dream world around her was so visceral that she couldn’t shake the possibility that it was real. Sydney could feel her mother shifting in bed, could hear the soft groan escape the woman’s lips, could see her mother’s face, the wrinkles, the pale, trembling skin, the furrow linebetween her brows. She’d still been so young, but the sickness had aged her twenty years.
“Ah, Syd,” her mother whispered. Sydney’s name came out cracked and grated, like salt out of a grinder.
Sydney adjusted her own position, wincing at the stiffness in her body. “Yes, Mama?” she asked. “Do you need me to get you anything?”
Her mother didn’t answer right away. When she did, she said, “How long are you planning to stay?”
Sydney had already been on vigil here alone for three straight days and nights. Her soul was tired, and she had homework to make up.
“I don’t know,” Sydney answered. “But I’m still here for now.”
Her mother’s eyes cracked open a sliver, and Sydney saw a glimpse of dark blue irises tilted toward her. “No.” She shook her head once. “I mean, how long are you planning to stay here? In this town?”
