“You need to rest today, my love. You’ve been wearing yourself out.”
Her face is expressionless and odd, and panic starts to rise in me like a wave, a wave that threatens to overtake me and pull me under.
“I’m fine,” I manage to utter. “I’m fine.”
My mother nods and Finn reaches for my hand beneath the table. He squeezes my fingers lightly, then harder. Our silent signal to let things drop. He wants me to let it…Dare?...drop.
No.
Never.
I turn to my grandmother. “Will Dare be here for dinner?”
Finn is squeezing my fingers hard enough to cut off circulation, but I ignore it. I focus on the faces in this room, the treacherous, treacherous faces.
I can hear shoes scraping on the floor, silver scratching porcelain plates, light breathing. I count my breaths.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Just before my sixth, Eleanor abruptly pushes her chair away from the table and walks for the door.
“You’re disturbed, child,” she quietly says as she passes. “Go to your room and I’ll send Sabine.”
My mother looks away and Finn squeezes and I have a terrible dark feeling sitting on my chest.
“But why?” I call out after her because clearly she is the only one who will answer.
She doesn’t. Silence follows her and descends upon the dining room and everyone seals their lips and I’m terrified.
Where is Dare?
I rise from my chair, but my chest constricts. Tight, tighter, tightest. I can’t breatheIcan’tbreatheIcan’tbreathe. I tumble to the floor and the anchor the albatross the stone …. They all sit on my chest and break it, and crush it and hold me down. I’m crushed to the floor, my heart hurts and I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
Finn’s face swirls in front of mine.
“Calla, breathe,” he instructs, his hand on mine, his blue eyes filled with worry. “Breathe.”
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
“Finn,” I whisper. But that’s all I can do, all I can say, all I can plead.
Something is wrong here.
Something.
Something.
Something.
Everything.
I can feel it.
Then I feel nothing because everything fades away.
When I wake, I’m in my room alone. It’s dark outside, early morning. I’ve been sleeping all day and all night, probably a product of Sabine’s herbs. I stir, rub my bleary eyes and finally sit.
I’m alone.
Dare.
Dare.
My memories of this morning erupt like a volcano in my head and I lurch for the phone. I call the operator and ask to be connected to the hospital because I obviously don’t know the number.
When someone answers, I stumble with my words.
“Yes, can you connect me to Dare DuBray’s room, please?”
“Just a moment.” The woman’s voice is perfunctory, but I feel relieved. Just a moment. I’ll hear his voice in a moment. Thank God. They can’t keep me from him. No one can.
I wait.
And wait.
And then the perfunctory woman is back.
“What was the name again, miss?”
“Adair DuBray,” I tell her tightly.
There is a pause and clicking on a computer.
“We don’t have a patient by that name,” she tells me.
“Was he discharged?” I ask hopefully. “He was there yesterday for an infection. He got a tattoo and…”
“Miss, we haven’t had a patient by that name. Not yesterday, not ever. He’s not in our system. He wasn’t here.”
“That’s a mistake,” I whisper, but she’s resolute.
“There’s no mistake, miss.”
Numbness descends like a fog and I replace the phone on the table.
He was there. I saw him. I stood by him, I yearned to hold his hand, and his back says LIVE FREE. I know that.
Confusion jumbles in my head, which is nothing unusual. I’m always confused, but I’ve never been confused about Dare.
Where is he?
What is real?
“What is wrong with you?” Finn hisses at breakfast, his fingers pressing into my knee to get my attention. I shake my head.
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying,” he accuses, and as usual, he’s right about me.
He always is.