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Closing his eyes, he took a calming breath, reflecting on the latest nightmare.
If it hadn’t been for Dominic’s help, he wouldn’t have made it out of the throne room to reunite with the others.
Fighting the rogues came easy; he had the strength to match theirs, if not more than some. The problem came when they fought dirty and several attacked at once. He would have taken a blow to the back of his head if Dominic had not stopped the rogue sneaking up behind him brandishing a pipe.
Even then, it didn’t stop him from dying.
Shoving away the covers pooled over the lower half of his legs, he climbed out of bed and moved to his computer, resigned to another night of minimal sleep.
He slumped in his desk chair, booted up his computer, and threw on a set of headphones.
Online gaming, perfect for insomnia.
Opening Discord, he checked to see if any of the people he sometimes played with were online. His brows rose when he saw Charlotte’s online status. He looked at the time. Three in the morning. What was she doing up at this hour? Even on a Friday, he seldom saw her online this late.
He took his headphones off and got up, snatched a white T-shirt off the foot of his bed, and tugged it over his head. He lowered himself into his chair again and put on his headphones, clicking the button to connect to a video call.
It took so long to connect he thought maybe she was asleep, and her status hadn’t changed to away.
When her web camera flickered on, he smiled. “Hey,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
His smile faltered and fell flat at the sight of the pale girl on the other side of the screen. Other than her red, irritated-looking nose, her fair skin that always held a natural blush looked ashen. Her startling malachite eyes glistened like she had been crying.
“Charlotte? What’s wrong?”
Her laugh sounded strained and forced as she swung her head from side to side. “Nothing’s wrong. What do you mean? Why’re you up so late?”
Lying again.
The last time they spoke, Charlotte seemed off and denied having any problems, but she didn’t have a good poker face.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You’re not watching horror movies again this late, are you?”
“One time,” she said with a huff, rubbing her face. “That was one time, and I said I’d never watch them alone again.”
Around the time they returned from Europe, he talked to Charlotte at midnight, interrupting a horror movie marathon. After he let her go, she called him back an hour later, freaking out. She was used to watching scary movies while living with her mothers, not alone.
“Then what’s going on? You look scared to death.”
She looked to the side and mumbled, “Long night.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.” She sighed. “No, sorry. It’s been a long night. I forgot I had a meeting with my group to hash out the last stuff for our presentation next week, and after I left…”
When she remained silent a moment too long, he prompted, “After you left?”
She looked back at the screen. “I think the stress and heat are getting to me.”
“How so?”
“Ma always said I have an overactive imagination like Mom.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “I think she’s right.”
For a long time, it confused him how Charlotte called her mothers different variations of their title. She didn’t call them by their names; instead, she called her mother Sara, “Mom,” and her mother Elizabeth, “Ma.” He was sure it prevented confusion in their household, but it took him a while to wrap his head around it.
“Why do you think that?”
“Saw a couple together in an alley, but thought the guy was hurting his partner. Thought…” She waved a hand. “It’s stupid. Maybe a side effect of my new medicine.”
