It’s 10pm and I am pacing in my room. I inhaled my takeaway curry earlier, and for the first time in ten days, I feel alive. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. I am tapping my head with my fingers as I pace. I know I know something. I just don’t know what that something is yet, but I know it’s here in my head. What am I looking for?
Think, damn you. Think.
I didn’t discover anything today at the library. Maybe that will all change on Monday when Charles rings me. I have decided to not go to a psychic. I don’t want them messing with my head or planting seeds that just aren’t there. I’m not a weirdo and I don’t need a weirdo messing with me. I’m a normal girl from Australia, for fuck’s sake. I walk over to my briefcase and take out the folder of pictures I had printed of the stolen artwork, and start to flick through them. All women, all beautiful, all historical images. Why only women, Alastar? Why do you only steal images of women?
What the hell does this all mean? I need to clear my mind. I need to get some clarity on my thoughts.
I take out my phone and hold it in my hand.
I need answers.
Should I text him?
No! I stop myself.
I light the candles that Brielle bought me this week and spread them around the bathroom. I run the bath and turn off the light, undress and slide into the deep water as I think.
The apartment is silent as I try to quieten my mind. I lie in the darkened room but my mind won’t stop. I get the vision of us dancing together at the charity event when he told me the song that was more fitting to us.
What was it?
What is it? What was the song?
A Thousand Years by Christina Perry pops into my head and I immediately jump out of the bath and Google it on my Spotify on my phone.
I frown and press play then sit in the dark and listen to the words.
Heart beats fast, Colors and promises.
How to be brave?
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?
How to be brave.
He said he wasn’t brave enough to love me in the beginning. Am I brave enough to love him now?
Fucking hell. I’m so confused.
In the dark and alone, the tears slowly roll down my face. What does that song mean? It’s the theme song for Twilight? What the hell does that mean? Don’t be afraid. What is he trying to tell me?
I lie in the bath for over two hours, until finally, my wrinkled skin can take it no longer. I climb out of the bath and drag my heavy soul to bed. Lying in the darkness, the tears run onto my pillow. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to feel. I am so confused. Am I going fucking crazy?
I’m in love with a criminal who speaks in cryptic code and I don’t know how to stop it. How do I turn this love off?
Am I searching for answers that just aren’t there?
Is it wishful thinking?
My email pings on my phone and I sit up suddenly. Finally, it’s the maps of the castle that I have been waiting for. They must have only just come through. I get up and turn my computer back on to open the map before I lay back in bed in the darkness. I trace my finger along the screen as I try to work out where we were in the castle the other night. After twenty minutes, I finally find the room with the staircase and my heart skips a beat. I put my hand up to my mouth in shock as the hairs stand up on the back of my neck once more. The staircase went to the very bedroom that Alastar and I were staying in.
I shake my head as exhausted tears take over, and I flop back down onto the bed.
“I don’t understand,” I gasp into the silence though my tears.
I lie in a semi-conscious state as I listen to Christina Perry’s song on repeat. Somewhere between utter heartbreak and psychic Twilight hell.
* * *
The light flickers in my eyes and I squint to make out the shapes. It’s me and I am sitting in the sun outside. I can hear birds chattering around me. This is a happy place and I feel relaxed and warm in the sun. I’m lying on a lounge or something soft.
“Just put your head up to the sun,” he tells me.
Huh? Who’s there? Glancing up, I see a man painting on an easel. He studies me and goes back to his painting. He’s painting me. My eyes drop down to see that I am arranged on the couch with a cashmere blanket draped over my naked body.
I gasp in shock and sit upright in bed. Perspiration wets my body and my nightgown sticks to my skin. I breathe heavily as I try to control my racing heart. What was that? I swing my legs over the side of the bed and put my head into my hands as I pant, out of breath.