“T-there was someone in the window. It looked like a woman,” I call out, losing my appetite. First, I saw someone behind me in the bathroom, then on the porch? What the hell is going on with me?
“It was an eagle that hit the window, Coraline. We live in thewilderness, and lots of wild animals stop by. It happens.” He closes the shutters.
My tongue clicks. He doesn’t believe me.
“I’m not talking about the eagle! I saw a woman walking by just before.” I point in the direction she went with my finger, my heart racing.
I turn to Gavin, who has his hands on his waist, his long fingers hovering over his belt. He looks at me momentarily and then glances toward the front door. He unlocks it, opens it, and peers with only his head outside, looking left and right. I stand, doing the same.
The wrap-around porch is empty. Nothing but two rocking chairs sway in the wind next to a small, round table with drink coasters—no tall woman with black hair in sight.
“No one is here,” Gavin replies as he closes the door.
“But I swear I saw a woman with long, straight black hair.”
“No one is here but you, me, Merelyn, and Georgia,” he reiterates. His hand snakes into his left pocket and takes out a pack of Marlboros. He takes one bud out and pinches it in between his teeth. I track him as he walks out of the kitchen, heading out toward the back of the house, as chills skate down my spine, still trying to process what I just saw. His hand spears through his long, dark hair, combing it, before he places a brown cowboy hat on top. “I’m going to check on my horses.”
CHAPTER 11
CORALINE
After breakfast, I went back into the bedroom and ended up taking a nap.
Mission: find my car and cellphoneis the center of my mind right now. I’m stubborn. I have always been since I was a child. I don’t care if I need to find it alone, because as the minutes go by, getting frustrated by the simple fact that I can’t call my parents or sister is driving me up the wall.
I walk into the living room with the winter clothes I found in the dresser. Surprisingly, I found some that fit me. I dressed myself in a light blue, soft sweater that reads “Sleepy Coldwater, Alaska” in cursive font, with mountains as the art. It presses softly against my skin, beneath a thick, layered silver coat. I finish up by tying the string to the waistband of my blue jeans.
As soon as I look at the door, the lights flicker. Flashing fast in a strobe-like pattern.
My skin immediately crawls. The air around me turns colder than usual, and the hairs on my skin rise like static. My thoughts immediately race to the black-haired woman on the porch and in the bathroom.
Am I seeing things? Is this a part of my brain injury? Or am Iseeing…phantoms? Ghosts? Spirits? My heart skips a beat as I watch the light bulb continue to struggle to stay lit. The smell of butter and pecan from the burning candle fills my nose, distracting me momentarily as I watch the ceiling.
“Gavin? Merelyn?” I shout, my chest rising and falling fast with shaky breaths. I wait for their voices, listening over the sound of my heart and blood thrashing in my ears. Seconds turn into an agonizing minute.
Where are they?
I keep walking around, looking for Gavin or the older woman, but there’s no one. The slam of a door makes me jump in place. I whirl around toward the direction I heard it come from. My attention lands on a long, tall door on the opposite side of the living room. The fireplace is lit, crackling viciously just as the electricity goes out, leaving me in a darkened area.
I take a step closer to the front door when I spot a note on a neon-colored yellow paper.
Here are some meds for your body pain. I’m out with the horses.
-Gavin
The door keeps slamming against the wall, pulling my attention away from the note. I saunter over to the door, bypassing the living room. As soon as I grab the knob, a gust of freezing air whooshes against my cheeks, making my hair flail all around me hard. I look toward the cold draft and see a wooden staircase leading down to a basement.
Oh, what the hell.
There’s stillno sign of Gavin or Merelyn inside the cabin. After five minutes standing in the living room awkwardly, Igrew tired of waiting for them to show up. So now, I’m holding onto a glass candle I found in the kitchen. There was a lighter right next to it in the pantry.
I’m using it to help guide me through the darkness of the basement. I know I shouldn’t be prying hard into his home like this, but if there’s an open window he missed, I need to close it. As soon as I reach the bottom of the creaky stairs, the yellow glow of the candle leads me into a vast, open room with boxes and neatly arranged furniture. The walls are empty, and the basement looks equivalent to a garage or storage room. Organized but dusty. There are decorative boxes. Each is labeled for its specific holiday season.
When’s the last time Gavin was down here?
The temperature dips further, and the strong winds can be felt now that I’m down here. I locate the open window. It’s in the corner by the drawers. It’s cracked open an inch wide. Shivering from my head to my toes, I grip the window and pull it down. I lock it by turning a white knob before I pivot on my heels, heading back upstairs, before my hip crashes into the desk.
It stutters, my hip bone throbbing with a ruthless heartbeat.
