pulled into a sad sort of smile that sends goosebumps across my arms and neck.
“Celeste.”
I don’t know if she speaks out loud or only in my head.
I never know what’s real with her. Especially now, after hearing her voice make that phone call.
“Estelle, are you really here?” I whisper, half-hopeful, half-afraid.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she says. “But I know why you did. He’s evil, Celeste. Cruel and merciless. He’s not—”
“Who is evil?”
“The man who brought us here.”
Fear curls in my gut as I think of the doctor, but my instincts tell me she’s wrong. She must be.
I scowl. “You’re not really here. And besides, you’re the one who made that call.”
“I’m with you, sister. Always.”
“You left me,” I whisper, the words sticking in my throat.
“I didn’t want to. Listen to me, Celeste. He’s not going to stop, and when he finds out what you are, he’ll come for you too.”
“What am I?”
She blinks like the answer is so obvious. “A witch, of course.”
I sit back, staring at her. There’s that word again.
“Estelle, now is not the time for jokes. Please leave me alone. They’ll think I’m crazy, and it’ll only make it worse. I have to get out of here.”
“There’s no escaping Le Rêve,” she says sadly.
Above us, there’s another thud and muffled yelling.
Estelle’s form flickers.
My eyes widen. “Wait,” I say, but she flickers again, and then she’s gone.
The moment I’m alone, I regret telling her to leave. Estelle’s absence is a hole in my heart that I would gladly fill with even her ghost—or my own hallucinations. In the emptiness, fear snakes down my spine, and the reality of where I am finally hits me.
The gorgeous doctor upstairs, whether he means well or not, is nothing more than a distraction. The truth is, I’m a prisoner, and no one, not a single soul alive, knows where to find me—even if anyone were so inclined. I can only hope the doctor will hear more of my story and deem me mentally sound enough to return me to my old life. Except the only thing waiting back there is death. And the only thing waiting in here is madness.
4
I wake suddenly, heart pounding, disoriented from nightmarish dreams—or maybe just the fact that I’m still in this dungeon and not safe in my flat near campus. I sit up and take deep breaths until my thundering pulse slows to something normal. My wrist itches, and I rub at the bandages covering my wounds. Finally, my eyes adjust, and I get up, peering across the hall for the twins. A small lamp marking the exit down the hall is the only source of light, but even so, their empty cell is unmistakable. Once again I wonder if they ever really existed at all..
Soft snoring echoes off the stone walls, and my stomach jolts as I realize I’m not as alone as I’d thought.
There are others here.
Tilting my head, I try to pick out which direction it’s coming from, but the way sound echoes down here makes it impossible. And after everything I’ve seen, I’m hesitant to call out or try to befriend anyone else.
Resigned, I shuffle back to my bed and burrow underneath the thin blanket. But sleep doesn’t come, and I find myself wandering back over memories of happier times. Inevitably, those are short-lived before my walk down memory lane brings loss—and grief.
Estelle was my best friend. My confidant. The only one who truly understood me. She was my entire world.
And now she’s gone. And I’m here.
And nothing will ever be the same.
“It’s not your fault.”
I gasp and sit up then go still, hoping my sudden movements won’t chase away what I know is a hallucination of my own making.
“Estelle,” I breathe. After our exchange last night, I half-expected her to abandon me, but here she is again.
Her form flickers like a projector with interference. Floating near the bars of my cell.
“I’d yell at you for getting yourself into this, but you always did have to do everything I did.”
I smile despite the horror of my reality.
“Actually, you were the one always copying me,” I say.
She grins, and in that split second, everything is okay. But then her smile slips, her form flickering in the shadows. I shiver, a cold dread stealing into me that, real or imagined, my entire life is now a nightmare.
I ask the question that’s haunted me since the moment I lost her. “Why didn’t you let me help you?”