“She said you have good intuition,” I tell him. “So what does your gut say about her?”
He grins at me. “Oh, so she sees the wisdom of my ways?” He closes his eyes and pretends to think, his brow wrinkled. “I think… she’s odd. And I withhold the right to reserve judgment until later.”
“Cop out,” I accuse him.
He grins wider. “It’s my right. I’m the wise one, apparently.”
I roll my eyes. “Lord help us.”
We make our way inside for a quiet lunch, for which neither Eleanor nor Dare join us. The dining room is utterly silent, but for my chewing sounds and china and silver scraping.
“Do you think it’s weird that we never see Eleanor?” I ask Finn when we’re finished.
He shrugs. “I don’t care one way or the other. To be honest, I’m sort of glad I’m not there with you. I don’t want to deal with Eleanor.”
“Gee, thanks.”
But I get it.
I don’t blame him.
This time, I don’t even think it’s a twin thing. I’m sure everyone must feel the same way about Eleanor.
Before bed, I try to call dad, and my call can’t be completed. I apparently have no signal.
“Maybe I can go into town tomorrow and try,” I mention as I grab my pajamas to change in the bathroom.
Finn stares at me drolly. “Or you could just call him on the house phone.”
I scrunch up my face. “I don’t know why, but I feel weird about it. Like someone is listening. Always.”
“Everyone is wrong,” he announces suddenly. “You’re the crazy one, Cal. Not me. Why would people be listening to your phone calls?”
“I don’t know,” I have to admit. “I just feel like they are. I can’t help how I feel.”
“No, you can’t. But you can help how you process those feelings,” he tells me helpfully. “Trust me, you don’t want to be crazy, Calla.”
Without another word, I leave to put my pajamas on. When I come back out, he’s already curled up on one side of my large bed. It’s unspoken now that he’ll stay with me while I sleep. He knows I don’t like being here alone. This huge place makes me feel small.
Even though my father hasn’t answered any of my letters yet, I write him again.
I write until I can’t hold my eyes open anymore, but even though I’m exhausted, my sleep isn’t restful.
Dreams about Finn consume me. His face, his skinny arms and legs as he runs from something. With horror, I realize that he’s running from me.
“You don’t understand,” he shouts over his shoulder, running toward cliffs. Are those the cliffs back home?
“What don’t I understand?” I yell back, the rain pelting my face, drenching my clothes.
“What it’s like to be me!” his voice is hoarse, and it cracks under his shriek. He skids down the mountain, and suddenly Dare is with him, and they’re running together, a unified front, both teaming up against me.
“Stay back!” Dare shouts to me. “You’re only making it worse.”
“Making what worse?”
“Everything,” he tells me, his handsome face earnest. “Just stay away. It’s the best thing you can do. You’ll be our downfall.”
“The end is the beginning, Calla,” Finn adds. “Please. GO. Go back, go back.”
“Go back where?” I scream. “Home? I want to, but I can’t. Not without you, Finn.”
Is this a dream?
The colors are real, Finn’s voice is loud, and Dare’s face is beautiful.
“The beginning,” Finn yells. “The end is the beginning. Don’t you understand?”
I sit straight up in bed, gasping, my hands clenched around the sheets.
Finn is dead. He’s not on the cliffs and neither am I.
We’re safe.
Aren’t we?
I’m not so sure anymore. An overwhelming feeling of unrest surrounds me, and sleep is impossible for the rest of the night.
* * *
When I go for my morning walk, I bump into Sabine yet again. It feels like she’s always near.
“Have you found the secret garden yet?” she asks.