“That’s lucky,” Crow said. His voice was back to normal—slow, disinterested, and slightly slurred. He nodded quickly at Em and her dad, barely lifting his eyes from the ground. “Sorry for the trouble, Emily. You too, sir. See you soon.” Without another word, turned to leave. She was terrified he’d find more trouble tonight. Was he driving? What if he just wandered off to find another fight?
“I’m not even going to ask, Emily,” her father said as they watched Crow stumbling across their front yard toward the street. She felt like he was spiraling away from her, and had the powerful sense that she was on the brink of losing him to something terrible. The darkness was eating away at him; it was obvious. And Em couldn’t help but feel it was her fault. If she’d managed to get rid of the Furies, maybe he’d be getting better instead of worse.
“There’s been enough excitement tonight,” her dad went on, putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her toward JD’s house. She stole one final look behind her, but Crow had already been enveloped by the shadows of the woods.
The adrenaline was wearing off slowly. Inside, Mrs. Fount fluttered around the kitchen, making tea and clucking about the terrible luck. JD, in sweatpants and a cardigan, had hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter. Em leaned in the doorway and tried to avoid eye contact with him, which was next to impossible. Every time she looked up, he was staring at her—and every time, she shifted her eyes away immediately.
She couldn’t get the visions from her dream out of her mind. How realistic they’d been—the flames, the smoke, the sense of panic.
“Thank you so much for the hospitality,” Em’s mom said. “We won’t really be able to assess the damage until tomorrow.”
“Don’t mention it, Sue,” JD’s dad said, coming into the kitchen with a pile of extra linens in his arms. “I’ll set up the guest room for you two down here. Em, Mel’s already gone back to bed, but you can have JD’s room.”
“Oh no, that’s fine,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll be fine down here on the couch.” No way was she going to boot JD out of his own bedroom. No way was she going to fall asleep on his sheets while he sat down here, probably hating her. No way in hell.
“I already set things up for myself down here,” JD said, cocking his head toward the den. “You look exhausted. You’ll get a better night’s sleep upstairs.”
She was too tired even to be offended by the fact that he said she looked tired. Of course that didn’t mean she would be able to sleep. But at least she could lie down and think. For the first time that night, she allowed herself look him straight in the eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “I think I’ll head up now, actually.”
JD jumped off the counter. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”
Once they were out of earshot, Em turned to him and said in a low voice: “You don’t have to do this. I’m fine.”
He kept following her, up the stairs and into his bedroom. “We need to talk,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I’m glad you’re okay. But now that I’ve got you here, there are some questions I need you to answer. Not about the fire.”
“Does it have to be right now?” Em’s voice was trembling. “I’m so tired—I’ve been dealing with so much. . . . ”
“Yes,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’ve noticed.” The way he looked right now . . . so focused, so concerned. It made her want to burrow into his arms and stay there forever. “And I think I know what’s been going on.”
No, you don’t, she thought. You can’t.
“But I want you to tell me,” he said.
She sat on the bed with a thud. “What do you mean?” She looked down at her hands.
“You’ve been keeping things from me. Big things.” He stood in front of her and took her face in his hands. They were bigger than she would have thought they’d be; his fingers spanned the length of her cheek. He smelled like something spicy. Like Christmas. She couldn’t take it. His kindness. His hands. How good it felt to sit in his room.
The tears rolled up her throat like a bowling ball coming full-force toward its pins. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Hot tears began to fall from her eyes. Yes. She nodded wordlessly. Yes. She leaned over against the pillows, cries smashing through her body. Her body curled in an effort to control the spasms that shook through her.
He sat down next to her. She felt his warmth. When he placed his hand on her shoulder, soothing her, stroking her, it was like her skin was melting beneath his touch.
What did he know? What big things was he referring to? Was he in trouble? How long would she be able to lie straight to his face?
She wanted to ask. But the tears—and the deception—were so exhausting, they were taking her into a cloudy zone of half-sleep. That empty feeling in her stomach, the one that came when she’d cried all the tears she had in her, was making her nauseous.
“Shhhh,” JD said. “I know. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”
“I can’t—I can’t tell you. . . . ” she murmured, sniffling into the pillow.
“You’re going to have to,” he said, not letting up. “But you don’t have to right now. Just rest. I’ll stay until you fall asleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”