I interject.
She averts her eyes. “You said that before, and I didn’t believe you …”
“I was only trying to warn you,” I say, sighing when the tear rolls down her cheek.
I slowly spin her on her heels and make her look at me. I pick up the tear with my thumb and look at it for a moment, wondering how such a little droplet of water can have such immense effects on one’s soul. And more specifically, mine.
Which is why it hurts so much to say this. “But I cannot let this go.”
I turn and walk away.
“Eli!”
Her call makes me stop. I look at her over my shoulder, one foot out the door, the other still inside her room.
“How much longer?” she asks.
“As long as it takes,” I respond.
The darkness returns to her eyes, that same darkness that appears every time she realizes she cannot get out of this, no matter how hard she tries.
But something has changed.
A whisper deep down in her soul, chattering words she never thought she’d hear from her own heart.
She’s not innocent.
She never was.
Amelia
Anna has stopped talking to me entirely. Every time I go to the vent and peel the curtains away to say something, there’s no reply. I’ve peered through the hole, and all I see are curtains time and time again. It’s like she completely forgot I’m here too.
I don’t know if she’s upset with me because of what happened. If she blames me for not succeeding. If she wished Tobias hadn’t saved her.
All this time, I thought she wanted to be freed, that she wanted to be rescued and taken from this place, but maybe her mind was already too far gone. She only wanted to disappear.
And now she has what she wanted.
She’s alone in her room … all by herself, just like me.
This room … it’s caving in on me. And the only reason we’re both stuck in these rooms again is because of me. I wish I never tried to escape.
I throw myself onto the bed and bury my head into the pillow, screaming so loudly my voice becomes hoarse. It’s the only thing that provides relief, and as I close my eyes, I am able, for a moment, to drift away in daydreams of books and vacations, far away from this House.
Suddenly, someone rummages at the door, and I lift my head. The daydream vanishes, and my heart begins to thump in my throat as the doorknob twists.
Scrambling to my feet, I pat down the bold black and red dress I put on today and comb through my hair with my fingers so it doesn’t look like a tangled mess, right in time for the door to open.
I shouldn’t be excited. Shouldn’t be remotely happy about someone entering this door. But solitude does something to a human being. It makes them yearn for contact … any kind of contact … no matter if right or wrong.
When I spot Mary’s foot, my heart stops palpitating, and I breathe out a sigh.
“Hey there,” she says, a gentle smile on her face. “How are you feeling today?”
“Lonely.” The word slips off my tongue before I realize it. I wish I could swallow it back, but it’s too late, judging from the bigger smile on her face.
“I can imagine,” she replies, and my cheeks immediately flush.
“I didn’t—”
“It’s fine,” she interjects, raising her hand. “It happens.” She steps inside for a moment. “I’m sorry, I wanted to talk to you when I came to clean your room, but Eli specifically told me not to.”
I sigh. “Figures.”
She rolls her eyes a little. “It can be quite frustrating sometimes.” She suddenly giggles. “Oh, look at me, running my mouth again.” She slaps her hand in front of her mouth. “I should just stay quiet like they tell me.”
“No, you don’t have to do that,” I reply, stepping closer. “I like it when we talk. Can we talk more?” I ask, lowering my head. “Please?”
Her lips part, and she seems stunned for a moment, but then she recaptures herself in the midst of a thought that made her blush. “Well, I, uh, I don’t know. I’d have to—”
“It can stay between us. Just the two of us,” I say, smiling.
She points up at the cameras. “They are always watching, miss.”
I take in a breath and raise my brows. “I know. But isn’t there like a corner where we can talk?”
She frowns. “I … I don’t—”
I grab her hand tightly. She tries to pull back, but I refuse