“Aunt Jane, will you please get your arms off of me? I can’t breathe.”
The tears I’d cried before drifting to sleep still clung to the corners of my eyes, dried and painful. I had to rub my hands over them to push away the crust so that I could open my eyes as I lifted my arm from around him and scooted over in the bed.
“Coop, I didn’t notice you. How long have you been in here?”
“I know you didn’t notice me. Want to know why?” He smiled and lifted one of his feet from beneath the covers. “I’m wearing socks this time, so my toes weren’t cold. I made sure they were on just for you, Aunt Jane. And I haven’t been in here long, I just came to wake you up actually, but you were sleeping really hard so I just crawled in to get warm. Then you tried to kill me with the weight of your arm.”
I frowned as I pushed myself up in the bed. “Well, I appreciate your thoughtfulness in wearing socks, but I don’t appreciate the insinuation that my arm is overly heavy. It’s not.”
I found myself holding it up to give it a look over just to make sure.
“Your arms wouldn’t feel so heavy if you didn’t wrap them around me like an octopus.”
I shrugged in apology. My arms and legs always seemed to know the second another person joined me in bed and instantly moved toward the secondary source of heat—unless said person had cold feet or hands, then I stayed clear of them.
“Is anybody else up?”
“Oh yeah, everybody. They have been, like all day.” Cooper scooted off the bed and walked over to the window to pull back the thick curtain. “See? The sun is already starting to fall again. It will be dinner before long. I wanted to come and wake you earlier, but Adwen said not to.”
I knew it was late when I finally fell asleep, but I couldn’t believe I’d slept all day. My grief at Isobel’s decision exhausted me completely.
Adwen had to wonder what was wrong with me. It surprised me that he’d not come looking for me during the night. I’d not joined him in his room, instead retreating to my own bedchamber. After leaving Isobel, I wished to be alone. I still felt much the same way today.
“So why did you come and wake me now?”
“Because,” he crawled back on top of the bed, “I couldn’t wait anymore, and I wanted to say thank you.”
“Thank me for what?” If only Cooper knew how my conversation had gone with Isobel the night before, he wouldn’t be here giving me his thanks. Rather, he would be busy searching for the vial so that he could steal it, pinch Isobel’s nose, and shove it down her throat—exactly what I wish I had done.
“I was afraid to ask before, just in case, ya know? But deep down, I knew Morna would help. I just wanted to say thank you for getting her help, even though you were so mad at me for going through the portal. But everything is fine now, and it’s all thanks to you and Morna.”
Obviously Cooper’s definition of “fine” differed greatly from my own. Once he knew the truth, his heart would be broken.
“What do you mean by that, Coop?”
“A little bit after breakfast, Isobel started to act a lot different—like she wasn’t sick. I think she’s getting better, Aunt Jane.”
Undoubtedly, whatever recovery she seemed to have had was one of her brief rebounds, but those were certain to grow fewer and farther in between. With Cooper’s unshakeable faith in Morna, of course he’d seen Isobel’s good morning as a sign of returning health.
“Coop, I don’t think that is what’s happening. I need to tell you something about what Morna told me. She wasn’t able to help Isobel. There have been days before, remember? Days that Isobel felt more like her old self before getting sick again?”
He stared at me for a long moment, crossing his little arms as he sat across from me. His face fell at my words, but he said nothing, his brows pulling together in deep reflection. After a long while, he spoke.
“Yeah, I know, but are you sure? ’Cause this morning was different than those other times. Isobel knew it too and, for some reason that I really don’t understand, she’s really mad about it.”
“Why is she mad?” Isobel had always been so grateful for every good day. It made little sense to me that it would upset her.
“I don’t know. But I think she’s mad at you. When I asked if I could go wake you up—even before Adwen said no—she screamed and told me not to, and said that she didn’t want to see you. It’s really weird, Aunt Jane.”
My conversation with Isobel had ended somberly but, as far as I knew, neither of us had been angry when I left her.
“What do you mean? There’s no reason for Isobel to be upset with me.”
Cooper shrugged and slid off the bed before walking to the door. “I don’t know. Come see for yourself. I’ve never seen Isobel so angry.”
*