Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,56
from my face. The man hadn’t been real? Nor the monster attacking me at the café? Or the place of toys? Chip? Dor?
All the hallucinations were vivid, tangible, but reality was a hazy dream. I couldn’t remember much about being in the café. I must have been alone, right? Why I couldn’t remember. What had triggered me? Did I suddenly snap?
The one person I knew who would understand what I was going through was the last person I could talk to. Mom and Dad didn’t want Alice to know, and I was also afraid this might trigger her again. I couldn’t have that on my conscience too. She was so happy now. This would bring back so much pain and darkness. Not now. Not until I knew more about my condition.
I needed to make another appointment with Dr. Bell. At her name, a glimpse of her sitting across from me at the café skimmed my thoughts but vanished just as fast. Dr. Bell hadn’t been there, right?
No. Why would she be?
I shook my head. Probably more hallucinations. It was getting to the point I couldn’t trust anything—what I saw, touched, or remembered. What was fake? What was real?
Was Frost? Blaze?
I was drowning in that blot of mustard.
“There’s a step,” Scott called out as we headed into our apartment building, his hand timid on my back, the other holding my bag. He had been treating me like a thin piece of glass since we left the hospital, which took longer than I wanted with my parents hovering. Everyone was uncomfortable and stiff, not knowing what to say or do. Mom had started to talk, but I saw Dad shake his head.
“Let her rest tonight, Carroll,” I overheard him whispering to her. “We can talk tomorrow.”
So instead of addressing the giant bomb in the room, we all chose to ignore it, and we knew we were all avoiding it, adding to the awkward tension ticking loudly in the space.
Scott was being particularly odd, not talking to me the entire car ride home except asking if I was warm enough, while the heat was blasting the skin off my bones. I had no idea how much he was told, but apparently it was enough to rattle him. He hadn’t reacted well after he saw firsthand Alice freak out in my bedroom watching Gremlins two years ago. It really scared him, and though he acted normal around her, I knew it still bothered him, not understanding why her brain couldn’t tell the difference between real and fake. How she could act normal one moment and then the next see stuff that wasn’t there.
“Door’s right there.” He pointed to our apartment.
“Yes, Scott. I know where we live.” He was trying to be considerate, overly so, and it was pissing me off. I couldn’t help the spite rushing off my tongue, irritation riding over my shoulders. “Crazy doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly become stupid or have amnesia.”
“Di…” His tone was full of annoyance as he unlocked the door.
“What?” I marched past him into our dinky flat. “Can’t joke about your girlfriend being a looney tune?”
“Dinah. Stop.” He slammed the door, his hand running through his hair and down his face. He placed my bag on the table. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired. You’re tired. Let’s go to bed, and we can talk about this in the morning.”
“Seriously?” I stood on the opposite side of the table. “You have nothing to say now?”
“What do you want me to say?” he huffed, his shoulders rolling back, his expression pinched.
“I don’t know.” I tossed out my arms. “Anything. Tell me how you feel. Ask me something…like what happened.”
“Fine. What happened?” His jaw ticked.
I stared at him. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what? You are acting like you’re angry.”
“I’m not mad,” he exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips.
“Really?” I scoffed, as his words and tone said the opposite.
“No,” he yelled back. “I’m not mad, Dinah. I was scared. Getting a call from your dad telling me you were in the hospital and learn it’s because you had a mental breakdown?”
“And that’s what really scares you?” It really wasn’t a question.
He grumbled, moving to the fridge and grabbing a beer.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t know how to answer you,” he muttered, pacing.
“Answer it honestly. You’re scared I have the same mental disorder Alice did.”
He made a noise in his throat, his hand running over his face and head again.