Holly's house was located just on the outskirts of the main village and backed onto the thickly wooded forest of the North Maine Woods. It felt safe in a way New York no longer did without her mother and father. The minute she'd set foot on the threshold, it felt like home, and Victoria had found that she didn't want to live anywhere else.
"Don't make a sound," she told Leto, and tiptoed toward the kitchen. It was empty. Sighing with relief, she poured herself a cup of coffee just as a second dizzying wave of queasiness made her double over, pins and needles spearing her entire body. Her back arched backward, hot coffee scalding her hand and flying everywhere.
"Ouch! Son of a—"
As Victoria shook her stinging fingers, her elbow caught the edge of a crystal vase sitting on the counter and tipped it off the side. Time slowed to a crawl and she could foresee the next four seconds of flawless inevitability ending with one of Holly's prized possessions shattered on the floor. Blood thundered in her ears and surged to the tips of her fingers in electric response.
A single word escaped her lips. "No!"
Obediently, time stopped.
Victoria swung around to the right to pluck the vase from midair milliseconds before it crashed to the floor, her breath harsh in the unnatural stillness. A blink, and the spell was broken. She replaced the vase with shaking fingers and took a deep, calming breath, her blood coursing wildly in her veins. Leto growled softly, his sudden stare insistent, unnerving. She shook her head.
"You imagined it," she said, pressing her hot palms to the cool surface of the countertop. "It's just adrenaline ... excess energy. Breathe, Tori."
She shook her head again, starting to feel that she would be better off returning to bed, when she heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. A few minutes later, Holly walked in, beaming as she saw Victoria and towing a bunch of shiny balloons behind her through the kitchen door.
"Happy Birthday, Tori! I've got one for each year! Seventeen of them!" she cried. "So, how's my birthday-girl?" Victoria couldn't help smiling.
"I'm not exactly sure. Still waking up, I think," she said, with a glance at her reddened hand.
A concerned look. "Did you manage to get any sleep at all?"
"Not much. The nightmares have been a lot worse lately. But I guess it's just the time of year," she said. "Not every girl has a birthday on the anniversary of her parents' death."
"I know, darling, it's hard. But they would be very proud of you, you know," Holly said, squeezing Victoria in a sympathetic hug before adding briskly, "so let's focus on the positive. How does it feel to be seventeen?"
Victoria smiled at Holly's intensity. Holly pretended to love birthdays, but Victoria knew deep down that Holly only did it so that the happiness of the celebration would eclipse the sadness of what had happened eight years ago. And her thoughtful ploy worked, year after year.
"It's strange, I do feel different. My body feels like it could run a marathon, like I've had six cups of coffee or something. I've had pins and needles all morning. Even Leto won't come near me."
"Sounds like birthday jitters to me," Holly said. "No wonder, seventeen, that's a big milestone."
"You said that last year when I was sixteen, remember? 'Sweet sixteen is a big milestone,'" she quoted in a chirpy falsetto.
"Well, it is, and they all are," Holly argued good-naturedly. "And I do not sound like that."
"You do when you get excited," Victoria said, pouring herself a second cup of coffee. "Seriously though, why is it even called sweet sixteen? It's so archaic. It's not even a true coming-of-age anymore. Don't you know eleven is the new sixteen?"
"Very funny," said Holly. "When I grew up, sweet sixteen was about celebrating girlhood into adulthood. I think the saying sweet sixteen comes from 'sweet sixteen and never been kissed.'"
"Don't look at me, I'd hardly know. I've never kissed anyone, unless you count Peter from church when I was thirteen. Gross. Anyway, I'm glad sweet sixteen is over. I can honestly say there was nothing sweet about it."
"Maybe this will be your sweet seventeen then," Holly said with a wink, and Victoria rolled her eyes. "Your grandmother always said that seventeen was a big deal too, you know, like a rite of passage."
Victoria turned and leveled a suspicious glance in Holly's direction. "Aunt Holly, you haven't gone and done anything crazy, have you?"
"Now, now, Tori, don't get that tone with me, young lady. A young woman deserves something special on her seventeenth birthday, doesn't she? I really think, no ... I insist that you should have something special! Happy Birthday, Tori!" Holly put two gaily-wrapped boxes in front of Victoria on the table. "Go on, open!"
"Aunt Holly! You do too much already!" Victoria said. "You spoil me."
"Don't deny an old lady her joys, darling."