But then he straightens up. “No, I just . . . I thought I heard . . .”
My heart stutters, and I strain my ears, listening for the music, but it’s gone.
“You thought you heard what?”
“Nothing,” he says. “I didn’t hear anything.” He grabs a dish towel from the counter and swipes it across his face, barking a hollow laugh. “Maybe you’re right. Noon might be too early to start drinking.”
“You think?”
“I’m sorry about before. With your boyfriend.” He smiles, but it’s plastic and the corners tremble. “I’m all right, baby. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just . . . I’ll have Olivia drive.”
“Dad, I don’t think you should go. You need to lie down.”
He leans into me and presses his lips to my temple. The alcohol on his breath turns my stomach, but I stand still, let him kiss me.
“I’m fine.”
He turns his back on me, every dish in the cupboards ringing with the slamming of the door.
6
Jake
It’s late. Work was rough. Another crew member laid off and double the pictures to process. Jake doesn’t mind the extra work, but watching a friend and coworker plead with their boss not to let him go, to let him stay on—just a few hours a week—was heartrending. The guy’s meager wages are the only thing putting him through college.
It’s been like this all summer—his boss, Phil, laying off one crew member at a time. “Tightening the belt,” he said. Understandable with the economy the way it is, but any hiccup in the schedule means Jake gets called in to cover a shift. The pay sucks, but he doesn’t mind the Photo Depot. He likes Phil, likes the quaint feel of downtown Stratus. Truth be told, he’s never really felt at home like he does here.
But he’s got that feeling again, the one he gets whenever Canaan’s assignment requires a new zip code. It’s a nervous itch that tells him change is coming. And for the first time, he can actually imagine telling Canaan he’d rather not go. That he’d like to stay here, start a life in Stratus. With Brielle.
Canaan would be fine with it—they’ve talked about this day. But for it to work Jake would have to find a place of his own and a job that paid substantially better than the Photo Depot. But instead of applying to colleges or looking for a better job, Jake spent the last semester of senior year waiting.
And waiting.
And tonight he’d like nothing better than to crawl under the pile of laundry on his bed and sleep, but the fear inside his gut compels him to do just one last thing before turning in. He climbs the steps to the old Miller place—the farmhouse he and Canaan share—and opens the door. Unlocked as always. Shadows swim on the walls and carpet, but the house is mostly dark. He drops his car keys on the kitchen table as he passes and swipes an apple from the bowl. Then he thinks better of it and puts it back. Checking the chest always turns his stomach. Even now he can feel a tight ball of anxiety growing behind his ribs. He’s fairly certain Canaan’s not home, but habit has him knocking on Canaan’s bedroom door. When there’s no answer, he pushes it open and steps inside.
The white bed and black side table, the wrought iron bed frame that twists to the ceiling, the photo of the dove. It’s all there, but Jake sees only the onyx chest at the foot of the bed. He moves toward it, anxious. Hoping.
Canaan’s blinds are open and starlight slips through, painting the room in shades of gray. Beneath the hazy light the chest ebbs, its darkness alive. Jake opens the chest every day, every morning before leaving the house, but tonight he could use a little good news. After the disastrous run-in with Brielle’s dad and a heartsick night at work, he needs something of hope to cling to.
Jake drops to his knees, running a tired hand down his face. In one swift motion, he leans forward and lifts the lid. And the fear burrows deeper.
Damien’s dagger is still there.
Brielle’s ring is still missing.
He cracks his neck and mutters a desperate, rambling kind of prayer.
He’s so tired of waiting.
He stares at the seven-inch blade, crusted with Brielle’s blood, wishing he could change what he sees.
But he can’t.
He can only wait. And pray.
And hope the Throne Room won’t take away the one person in the world he actually needs. But waiting