I spend the rest of the week locked in my room when I’m not in class, drowning in homework while trying to mentally prepare for Monday morning. When Friday afternoon rolls around, I’m on a train, heading to Mapleville. I want to believe I’m doing this for Adam, but the truth is: I miss home. That, and going home means I’ll get the answers I’ve been terrified to search for since Tristan told me about my ties to the fae.
I get a cab to the house with the intention of dropping my bag off before I meet Adam after school. I walk up the empty driveway and notice the front lawn needs to be cut. The rest of the house looks in order. The dull red brick and giant bay window in the front still make me smile, a lightness in my chest that only blossoms when I’m home.
I unlock the door and let myself in, setting my bag on the bench inside the foyer. I slip my shoes off, my feet padding against the hardwood as I walk into the living room where I’m surprised to find Adam curled up asleep on the couch. He’s home from school again? Frowning at the washed-out color of his face, covered slightly with messy brown curls, I pull a blanket over him. I tiptoe out of the room and into the kitchen.
Our kitchen has gone through many renovations, but the one we have now is my favorite, with faux marble countertops and dark wood cabinets, a stark contrast against the stainless steel appliances. The breakfast bar where I always liked to sit while I was doing homework in high school was added at Dad’s request. He wanted somewhere to eat that wasn’t as formal as the table in the attached dining room.
Adam is still asleep when Mom and Dad get home shortly after six o’clock.
“Aurora? What are you doing home?” Dad asks when he walks into the room. He’s dressed in his normal teaching attire: a suit and tie, and his salt and pepper hair is neatly combed to one side. Our eyes meet, and I’m reminded of how much I wish I had inherited his bright blue ones like Adam had instead of Mom’s hazel ones.
“Nice to see you, too, Dad.”
“You know that’s not what your father meant, honey. We weren’t expecting you, is all,” Mom says with a smile, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. My mom and I share many features. I have her long, wavy blond hair. We’re both a little over five feet and a bit curvy in the hip area. If she were a few years younger, we would look more like sisters than mother and daughter.
I smile back at her. “Adam asked me to come home this weekend, and I wanted to, so here I am.”
She nods, glancing at my dad before she says to me, “Have you talked to him?”
I shake my head. “He was asleep when I got here, but I know he hasn’t been feeling well, so I didn’t want to wake him.”
“I’ll get him,” Dad offers. “He should eat something.” He walks toward the living room, and I turn to my mom.
“Did you take him to the hospital?”
Mom presses her lips together, nodding. “He collapsed at school earlier this week.” Her throat bobs when she swallows, and her hands are gripping the counter so tight her knuckles have gone white.
My pulse races and nausea rolls through me. Adam hadn’t told me that. “Mom, is Adam sick again?”
She squeezes her eyes shut, nodding again before she opens them. “An MRI showed Adam’s cancer came back and spread to his brain.”
My mouth goes dry as my chest tightens. “His brain?” I force out, tears stinging my eyes. No. No way. This isn’t . . . Adam is not sick again.
She nods. “He has an excellent doctor, and he starts chemotherapy next week.”
I bite back several profanities. She waited to tell me Adam was sick until I showed up at home, and she didn’t have a choice. I want to scream. “What—?” I’m about to ask why the hell no one thought to pick up the phone and call me when Adam’s groggy voice makes my stomach drop.
“Hey, Roar.”
I look past Mom to see him standing in the doorway with Dad behind him. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Hey there, buddy. How are you feeling?”
He frowns, shifting his gaze to Mom, and pushes the mess of curls away from his face. “You told her?”
Mom smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’re going to get through this as a family.”
Adam looks at me again. “Quit looking at me like that, okay? It’s freaking me out.”
I blink a few times. “Sorry.” How am I supposed to act around him? I shouldn’t treat him like he’s sick, that’s what the doctors told us when he was first diagnosed a few years ago, but all I want to do is wrap my arms around him and never let go.
“Why don’t we order a pizza?” Dad suggests, most likely in an attempt to break the sudden tension that’s hanging in the room.
We sit around the dining room table, eating together for the first time since summer break.
Dad breaks the silence. “You had your work placement interview this week, right?”
The slice of pizza I have in my hand stops halfway to my mouth. “Uh, yeah.” With what was thrown at me when I got here, I hadn’t thought about Tristan for a while. It was nice while it lasted.
“How’d it go? Did you get the company you wanted?”
“I didn’t get to choose. My program coordinator matched the students with mentors from local businesses,” I explain.
“Okay, so where did you get placed?” Mom cuts in.
“At a hotel in the downtown core,” I say.
“That’s wonderful,” she praises. “Congratulations, honey.”
I clench my teeth together for a second and smile. “Thank you.”
“When do you start?” Dad asks.
“Monday,” I say. “Nine o’clock sharp.” Using Tristan’s words makes it difficult not to cringe.
After dinner, Adam offers to clean up what little mess we made, so I join in to keep him company. I could’ve used this opportunity to do some digging and find out what Mom and Dad might know about our lineage, but I’m still unsure how to bring it up in a way that won’t have them worry that something’s going on, and now doesn’t seem like the time to be concerned about it. The last thing I need is for them to get suspicious and ask questions I can’t answer.
We finish the dishes and meet Mom and Dad in the living room to watch a movie. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open for the first half, and by the second half, I’m dozing in and out before I fall asleep. After the week I’ve had, it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.
I open my eyes, blinking until they focus.
“Is this the part where you start freaking out?”
I gasp at the familiar voice and sit straight up in a flash. My eyes scan what appears to be one fancy-ass bedroom, landing on where Tristan leans in the doorway.
He steps inside, closing the door behind him.
I scramble off the bed, almost slipping off the black silk sheets. “What the hell is going on?” I demand, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Nothing,” he answers in a calm voice.
I gesture around the room. “What is this?”
“My bedroom,” he says.
I glance back at the bed I was in. Oh god. “Your bedroom . . .”
He chuckles. “You’re asleep, Aurora. This is a dream.”
My eyes snap to his. If it’s a dream, why do his blue eyes look so real? So damn captivating? I shake my head, pushing the thought away. “You’re in my head? In my dream?”
“That’s right. You’re dreaming about me.”
“Why? How?”