was pushed over the precipice by shock and grief. So Scarlet must face the impossible fact that she killed the two women who had raised her, loved her, and kept her safe.
Scarlet looks out the bedroom window, to the lightening sky. Outside, the sunrise is like a dying fire and the remaining stars flicker like greying embers in the grate.
11:15 a.m.—Goldie & Liyana
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Liyana says.
I wait, since I know she’s not—I can feel anxiety coming off her in waves, crashing to the shore at my feet.
“It’s just . . . There’s a lot of . . . Kumiko’s still not properly forgiven me, my aunt’s having a nervous breakdown, we’ve been kicked out of our house . . .”
“Shit.” I wait, and when she says no more, I don’t ask. I know my sister well enough now not to push her. I wonder what she’d say if I told her about Leo.
Liyana follows me along Trumpington Street towards King’s Parade. Passing Saint Catherine’s College and the wall of red leaves, I quicken my pace and Liyana hurries to keep up.
“We’re nearly there.”
Liyana grins at me. “I still can’t believe you cut off your hair because of my story.”
“Shut up,” I say, stroking my bare neck.
When I see the sign for the No. 33 Café, I slow. All at once I’m not sure. What will I say to the red-haired girl? That I dreamed of her and think she’s my sister? When Liyana did the same with me, I held her at knife-point. And this girl works in a café. She has access to plenty of sharp knives.
“Here.” I slow to a stop.
We both look up at the closed sign on the door.
“Oh,” I say, not wanting to admit my relief. “It’s a shame, but we could . . .”
“Don’t be such a defeatist,” Liyana says.
“Hey, you’re not the one who—”
“Look!” Liyana bends to pick something up from the pavement, then stands again, holding a black feather. She smiles. “It’s a sign.”
“I know,” I say, surprised since my sister hasn’t shown any signs of stupidity so far. “It says ‘closed.’”
“No.” Liyana nods at the feather. “Not that, this. This is a sign.”
I look at her, not certain how to respond. “The feather?”
“It’s . . . never mind.” Liyana drops the feather. It floats to the pavement. “Let’s knock. What can she say?”
“A lot,” I say. “Let’s come back another day when she’s open.”
“I can’t, I’ve not got another day off for two weeks.” Liyana peers through the glass door. “Look, there she is.”
Our redheaded sister sits at a table with a man. He’s not handsome, not a man you’d notice if you didn’t know him. But he holds her hand with such tenderness, as if trying to contain her sorrow. For she looks like a fire has burned through her, destroying every emotion but grief.
“Oh!” Liyana says, not noticing—but perhaps I see the girl’s sorrow only because I’m full of it too. “I’ve seen her before.”
“You have?” I say. “Where? Asleep or awake?”
“I’m not sure.” Liyana bites her lip. “I’m not having dreams like you. At least, I don’t think—but I’m remembering things . . .”
We watch as our sister drops her head and the man reaches out to cup her cheek in his hand. The gesture is tender, tentative, and I feel my eyes fill.
“Let’s go,” I say. “Let’s come back another day.”
Liyana slips her arm around my waist and gives me a quick, tight squeeze. We turn together and walk away.
1st November
Revelation
I start to shut the door before I’ve even fully opened it.
“Wait, please,” Leo begs. He stops short of wedging his foot between the door and the frame, but his desperation hits me with such force that I catch the door before it slams shut.
I shake my head. It’s one thing to see him in my dreams, quite another to see him now. It’s too real, too sharp, too soon. I’m not ready. I need more time.
“We don’t have more time.”
I’m no longer surprised that he hears my thoughts.
“Please.” His voice claws through the gap. “It’s tonight. You’re going to Everwhere tonight. And I still need to teach you—”
“You’ve taught me.”
“A few things. There’s so much more. You don’t even remember how to control your element yet, let alone . . .”
I feel his anxiety rise, thickening the air. I let the door open an inch and I’m gratified to see how devastated he still looks.
He gives me a cautious smile.