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He said it with warmth in his voice, as if it were something positive, staring at the paper crane.

“I don't want to think about it right now,” I said quickly, not ready to talk about my eyes or all the strange things happening around me. “Your poem is a welcome distraction.”

I put my hand on my silver necklace, playing with the little blue crystal to calm myself until I thought the tip looked slightly purple.

I still felt chaos inside me. And somewhere in the distance, the black hole.

“Distraction is repression.”

I didn't care if he judged me for this kind of escapism. I'd rather lose myself for hours in his poems or the written thoughts he had sent to Alice than have to deal with what was wrong with me.

Had he ever kept a diary?

“Sometimes we need repression. It's human,” I replied, holding his gaze, ready not to give in until he accepted that I didn't want to talk about it. But he didn't seem willing to give in either.

I raised an eyebrow.

He smirked, pressed his lips together, and closed his eyes as if I had actually defeated him before getting up from the bed.

“You won.”

I couldn't suppress my grin.

“Please get some more sleep,” he sighed. “I don't want you collapsing from exhaustion somewhere on campus tomorrow and me having to pick you up.” He looked at me, serious. “Imagine Rebecca finding you. Neither of us wants that.”

The mere thought wiped the smile from my face.

Alarik nodded at me with one last searching look before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

I sank back into the pillows and began counting all the books surrounding me until my eyes fell shut again.

Golden hour

DOLKINS

When I woke up, daylight flooded the room.

On the nightstand next to the bed was a note in his messy handwriting.

There are uniforms in the hallway closet downstairs. Breakfast is in the kitchen. Please eat. If you find any books that you can't put down, feel free to take them with you. Take as many books as you want.

– Alarik

I read the message three times before tiptoeing through the house, discovering what was actually a relatively modern kitchen on an open ground floor with brown Victorian furniture – all in earth and wooden tones – and cozy furnishings, and wondering if Alarik spent a lot of time here.

What if there were clues about Alice hidden somewhere here?

I pushed the thought aside, feeling ashamed and miserable for all the times I had invaded his privacy, and forced myself to wander through the kitchen.

He had made scrambled eggs with ham, along with an avocado-tomato salad with nuts and freshly squeezed orange juice.

I smiled when I spotted the bowl of blueberries, even though I knew he couldn't possibly know about my obsession.

It made me feel bad that he had done all this for me, but when I tasted his food, I forgot all my problems for a moment.

This man could cook better than my mother...

And sure enough, there were uniforms in my size in his hallway closet, even if there were only dark green slipovers.