Juliette quietly tugged on my shirtsleeve, putting a finger to her lips. “This way,” she mouthed, and motioned toward the window.
I blinked.
“Come on,” she insisted, and quietly pulled it open. Outside was a small balcony that was protected by the eaves. You would think, from the garden, that it was simply for decoration, but it turned out to be quite spacious. There were even a couple of small stools out there, and an ashtray, though Juliette didn’t smoke. I assumed someone had, a long, long time ago, since the ashtray looked quite old, too.
Quietly, I climbed out with her.
Lightning lit up the clouds in brilliant flashes of yellow and white. The rain had let up a little, though it was still a steady drone.
She said, “I used to come out here all the time to think. I can’t anymore because the only way out is through Oliver’s bedroom.” And she motioned back to the window.
“It’s sohigh.”
“Well, yeah. It’s away from people,” she replied, and checked her watch. “It’s already almost two. I don’t want you to have to drive me all the way into town again to take me home . . .”
I looked down off the balcony. You could see most of the garden from here, from the Hedges all the way to the Spiral. “You could sleep on my couch.”
“I’ll just stay in one of the other spare bedrooms,” she replied. “It’s not like I have to be home to, like, feed a cat or anything. That’s kinda why it was so easy for me to just drop everything and move up here.”
“All I have are plants,” I agreed. “It’s easy to carry them around.”
“I’d like a dog, I think,” she said, considering it. “Thank you, again, for coming to my rescue tonight. You’re a good friend, Sophie.”
Afriend. I hadn’t really been called that in . . .
It had been a very long time. I hadn’t even considered myself a friend to anyone, not since Harrie, and certainly not agoodone. But I didn’t hate the label like I thought I would. In fact, it felt . . .
It felt nice.
I tested a look over the edge, then decided against it and leaned back. “I think this is against every single safety code at Lilymoor.”
She stiffened. “Oh, please don’t tell Eula! I come up here to cry sometimes, because Yafir caught me crying in the employeebathroom six months ago and I’ve been mortified ever since. Sometimes you just need a good cry, you know? To selfregulate.”
I didn’t know, but I guessed Juliette handled things the way she handled them, and that was with a good emotional meltdown. Which probably was a lot healthier than taking a job in a small town in Maine for a summer before deciding to blow up ten years of your life and fuck off back home because you were scared of something that could last.
Not that I knew anyone who was considering that.
“I like the view,” she went on. “I mean, not rightnowbecause you can’t see anything, but, like, when it’s sunny? It’s magical.”
“I can imagine,” I replied, and we sat there in comfortable silence as the storm rumbled on.
30
mono no aware
It rained the next three days.
A dreary blanket of gray crept over the gardens, eerily quiet and haunting. There wasn’t much I could do in the gardens, so I went about in a raincoat, deadheading planter flowers and hopping over puddles, looking for the secret garden as thoroughly as I could. Thankfully, the gray skies kept the door successfully hidden without golden hour. I wasn’t sure how exactly to face Rus yet.
Only that, eventually, I needed to.
On the first morning, after wading through the water-logged grounds, I came into the manor’s kitchen to find Oliver at the table, having brewed a fresh pot of very, very strong coffee. He looked like death incarnate, which sort of served him right for invading the Wharf last night. I dug around for some toast, but as soon as I took the butter bread out of the pantry, he groaned sickly.
“No, please. I can’t look at food,” he begged.
“You need to eat something.”
“I will when I die,” he said, closing his eyes in long-sufferingpain. Yes, I decided, very much like an unwanted brother. “Last night was a mistake.”
