CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Adrienne pressed her forehead to the glass window of the train. It was icy cold, like the blood in her veins. She stared vacantly at the French countryside passing by outside. The rich emerald greens of summer filed past the window. She watched the vineyards, green vines spotted with blue fruit. Her eyes registered small stone farmhouses, pastures, and cows, the occasional church on the hillside. But she felt nothing. She was interested in none of it.
She was dazed, numbed by all the events of the past few days. It had happened so fast, like a whirlwind sweeping into her life and taking everything with it. In less than two weeks, she had lost everything. Gerard and that blossoming of hope, pulled away from her, like a magician doing the tablecloth trick. Lucie, more like a mother than her own mother, the only friend and confidante she had ever known, banished. The knowledge, heavy as stone, that Marie had Lucie’s journal and knew every vision that Adrienne had ever had. And now this—this sudden wrenching from her home and her family. It was too much, too sudden. Adrienne would doze off, and awaken with a start, wondering where she was. Like a person who has been pummeled, kicked, and beaten senseless, her mind and body were dazed, shocked, completely insensitive to everything and everyone around her. She didn’t cry. She didn’t speak. She didn’t see the beauty that passed outside the window.
Adrienne never had the chance to speak to Emelie or Antoine. They had not been told. Adrienne watched, from the window of the buggy, as Emelie came running down the front steps of the castle, her eyes large, her mouth open. She saw the small oval of Adrienne’s face in the window of the buggy, and lifted her hand.
Adrienne replayed the scene in her mind. Her eyes burned, stung by the memories. She felt it in her blood—Marie had orchestrated this whole fiasco. From Gerard’s transfer to Lucie’s sudden departure, to the way she herself had been whisked away, without a chance to see her father or her brother and sister. But no matter how Marie may have schemed, the worst pain was knowing that her mother had allowed this to happen. She had given up her daughter without protest. Adrienne’s mind flared with the anger and shame of betrayal. She felt as if her insides had been wrenched out, robbed of everyone she had ever cared about. She heard the clicking of the train on the tracks, felt the rocking motion of the car, and the overwhelming need to escape the pain pulled at her, dragged her down into sleep.
And there she was again, this time in her dreams. She followed Marie down a long hallway, watched as her aunt stuffed papers, Lucie’s journal, into her own valise. She watched, her subconscious bracing her for what she knew was coming. Marie turned, a glazed look in her eyes. Adrienne’s gaze traveled the length of Marie’s gown, took in the splatters of blood on the hem and skirt. Only this time, Adrienne could see Marie’s hand, also covered in blood. She watched in horror as a knife slipped from Marie’s grasp and clattered on the floor.
Adrienne lurched in her seat. Her eyes flew open. The train was slowing; she could see the bustle of the station ahead. She shook her head, trying to erase the eerie feeling of the dream. She was sick of it all: sick of visions that she didn’t understand until it was too late, sick of dreams that never seemed to make sense.
Adrienne looked at the people waiting outside the station. Their faces, pale and gray in the dim light, looked just as tired, just as forlorn, as she felt herself. As if the whole world had been washed in sadness.
She looked at the sea, beating against the docks just a short distance away, a deep gray-blue in the light of evening. She heard the whistle of the train; she could see the lights of fishing boats on the water.
Fog rolled in, thick and dark, moving quickly, filling the streets of the little seaport village. She lost sight of the sea, the lights, everything that was not inside the train car. She looked at her aunt, standing and reaching for her traveling bag.
Darkness dropped around them as the train pulled into the station. The inside of the train glowed with amber light. Passengers stood and stretched, reached for their bags. A hum of anticipation filled the car. Adrienne stood, pulled her traveling bag from the seat, and walked slowly forward. Marie led the way, her gray hair bobbing. Adrienne followed, like a sleepwalker, into the fog.