“This isn’t your fault Pagan. I didn’t understand any of it at first but Leif has visited me several times and he’s explained everything.”
“No, it is my fault. If I’d just gone with him when he told me about my soul you’d have lived. But I didn’t know. If I’d known they’d take someone else in my place I would have never stayed.”
“You thought Death would fix it in time,” he replied.
“Yes, I did. I guess you know about Dank now.”
Wyatt nodded then reached out a hand and although I wasn’t sure if mine would go through it or if he was a solid as he seemed I reached out to take his. The cold hard hand under mine surprised me.
“You aren’t like other souls. They can’t talk and they aren’t solid.”
“I believe it’s because of where we are. Here Ghede makes things the way he wants them to be. I believe he... uh,” Wyatt stopped talking and looked away. He almost seemed embarrassed and slowly tonight’s dinner came back to me and I realized what he was trying to say.
“He uses souls as his entertainment?” I asked
Wyatt peered back at me and nodded. My stomach felt sick again. Had Ghede used Wyatt that way? I was going to throw up.
“No Pagan, he hasn’t forced me to do any of ... that stuff. I’ve just seen it. I believe my age keeps me safe from it, I’m not sure.”
I leaned against the side of the bed and sagged in relief.
“He intends to keep you here you know.”
I lifted my eyes back to Wyatt’s and nodded. “I know. I just wish there was a way I could get you out of here. It isn’t fair that you have to remain here now that I agreed to come. He has me. I won’t leave.”
“How is Miranda?” Wyatt asked and the pain in his eyes sliced through me.
I remembered her sitting on her bed with his notes encircling her and the teddy bear he’d given her in her lap. I couldn’t tell him how much she grieved his death. It would be too much.
“She’s okay. She misses you something fierce but each day she gets better,” I assured him.
His face fell, “That was before. When she had you. Now she’s lost us both.”
The unsaid words hanging in the air between us were thick and painful.
“She’s stronger than you think,” I assured him but the memory of her drunken body staggering out of the graveyard said another thing entirely.
“I hope so.”
I could tell from his tone he didn’t agree. He was right of course. Miranda was like a fragile flower. One that needed tending and special care. Wyatt had always understood that and gone out of his way to give her exactly what she needed. I’d loved him for that.
“He’s coming,” Wyatt said, staring at the closed door.
“Can you stay?” I asked, not ready to see him go.
“No. But I’ll come back again.”
“Stay. I’ll ask him to let you.”
Wyatt shook his head, “I don’t want to Pagan. I don’t want to be near him.”
I understood. Leif had taken everything from Wyatt. His future. His eternity.
“Bye Pagan.”
“Bye.”
Leif opened the door and Wyatt walked past him without a word.