“Mori, you’re being a stupid little girl right now.”
I’d thought Alice had been angry the night before, but that was nothing to the anger I could hear in her voice just then. There wasn’t even a hint of the playful, sarcastic Alice that I knew.
“You think your mother never wanted him dead? You think she never tried? If someone like Emily couldn’t take him down, you never will. Go home. Someone will be waiting there to bring you to the country house. We’ll find another way.”
“I can’t do that.”
“And I can’t let you throw your life away over that piece of human trash.”
We both went quiet, so that I could hear my own breathing echoed through the mic of my phone.
“Okay, kid. If this is what you want, I’ll find you on my own. And you’ll come with me, whether you want to or not. I’m not leaving you behind again.” She ended the call, and I stared out the little window in my strange room—a window that had been covered with a curtain when I went to sleep last night.
I sat up and immediately regretted it. My body felt like it had been pummeled thoroughly as I slept, and all my wounds were aching and throbbing. I wondered how many days I’d have to rest to be fit to face my father. Too many probably. And I wouldn’t have the luxury.
I somehow managed to stand and wobble over to the desk where the note waited for me, but I fell back to sit on the bed as soon as it was in hand. I recognized Sherlock’s handwriting right away, but instead of a short note telling me he’d gone out for coffee or an errand, the writing filled most of the page.
You didn’t wake up for our late-night fight over whether or not you still needed my help, so I’m forced to write it all out here. Lucky for me, you can’t argue with a letter. I suppose this means I’ll win no matter what. Well done, me.
I could easily imagine the expression on his face as he congratulated himself in writing, and the image lightened my mood instantly.
You’ll notice I’m not there right now. It was difficult to leave you in such a vulnerable state, but I knew I had to do the right thing for once. I’m not wrong in wanting to protect you when you’re vulnerable; still, I knew you needed to think about things without me there to muddy the waters.
But I’m not the wrong one right now. ?You are.
I laughed and said, “Of course I am.”
I’ve been thinking about what you said to me yesterday, that you didn’t trust me to help you. I don’t think you were being honest about that. I’ll not betray you. No matter what you think, I never have. I’ve maybe been stupid in my decisions in the past, but you have the singular ability to reduce a great mind like my own to that of a Neanderthal. You know that.
You also know you can trust me, so that’s not why you keep pushing me away. I know you think you’re attempting to protect me, but you forget sometimes how well I can take care of myself. How my choices are mine to make. How I can sometimes see things in a way you can’t. How you see things in a way I can’t. How well we see when we look together.
What I’m trying to say is that I want to be with you. I don’t care about any of the rest of it. I just want to be at your side. I won’t stop you. I won’t get in your way. I just want, if you’ll allow me, to occupy that space next to you.
And your allowance is the key, isn’t it? I can’t force myself into that space, can’t keep following you around like some kind of resentful mutt who’s been domesticated despite myself. I can’t do any of that and still be of any use to you. And you need me at my best just now.
So it comes to this. ?You take a think, and I’ll be waiting for you at the bandstand when you’ve decided. Don’t make me wait too long?
He signed off the letter with a giant S. I traced the curve of it with my finger and then set the page back on the table.
It was perfect, his letter. Arrogant and reckless and lovely and full of him. And it shattered me in a way I didn’t expect. I’d built this wall made up of all the excuses I’d given myself and him for why I should push him away, why I should separate myself from the one person I wanted with me. But Lock had managed to shatter my weeks and weeks of wall building in just eight paragraphs. He’d done it with hope.