No nightmare had visited me since that dreadful night one week ago at the riverside, and even the pale marks had disappeared from my skin. It was as if it never happened—even the bones fell into the Earth like they were never there, sitting bright on the dark ground.
By some miracle, neither I nor Preston fell sick after diving into the river. Cecily, on the other hand, was confined to bed, recovering from the cold she caught from sleepwalking barefoot on the freezing ground. Strangely, she took the bedrest worse than the cold. It seemed even movie marathons could start to feel boring when you weren’t allowed to do anything else.
We had passed the first week of December, and if England hadn’t been grey before, it definitely was now. The colours had faded as if they were sucked out by the frost itself, and ice crystals claimed the windows.
“The Marzouqs offered their services to organise your nineteenth birthday.” Lilian’s sharp tone pulled me from my thoughts, and my hand froze, the spoon hovering halfway to my mouth. A silver bee stared at me from the tip of the cutlery like I’d stolen its pollen.
The five of us were sitting in the sunless dining room, having lunch.
“Oh god, please say yes, Dee.” Cecily’s eyes widened, begging like a hopeful puppy. “The Marzouq parties are legendary!”
I had no idea how to respond. I hadn’t thought about my birthday at all, but I couldn’t imagine myself celebrating without my mum. I never had a birthday without her being there.
I opened my mouth to decline the offer, but Cecily was faster.
“Please, please, please let them plan it,” she begged, sharing a look with Myra, the two of them clearly communicating without words.
In the corner of my eye, Preston moved on his chair so hard it creaked under him, but when my gaze flicked his way, he was lost in the book that rested beside his plate. Or at least he pretended to be. I had a feeling he always paid attention.
“I don’t want to celebrate this year,” I said at last, placing my spoon back into the soup and stirring the carrots.
“Nonsense,” Lilian swept my words away, like they were nothing more than small clouds of inconvenience, and took a deliberate sip of her tea. My jaw clenched. Her dark eyes glinted, and for a moment, I thought I saw them gleam. Then, as if a switch had flipped between her moods, a smile curved her thin lips.
“Of course you do,” she said lightly, but the weight of her insistence was anything but that.
“I don’t,” I pressed.
“Come now, pet.” She gazed at me over the rim of her cup. “I’ll give you some time to think about it. But not too long, I’ll need to get word back to Vincent as soon as possible. There is little more than two weeks until?—”
“Christmas is upon us, too,” Preston cut Lilian short, shutting his book. “It’s also a pretty big deal, if you ask me,” he said. Our eyes clashed.
“Preston,” Myra hissed at his brother, but he chose to ignore her.
“Will the Marzouq’s plan that as well or are they only interested in pretty things they can take advantage of?” he went on.
Did he just call me a thing?
“Don’t be ridiculous, Preston,” Lilian said, her eyes still blazing across my face. “We will have Christmas, of course,” she answered with a sharp grimace. “But Elodie’s birthday is more important.”
My eyes widened at the statement. Even I found that absurd to hear.
“I don’t think Jesus would agree but—” Preston continued, but Lilian silenced him.
“That’s enough.” She rose to her feet, her tone final.
The boy leaned back in his chair, flashing me a mischievous smile, seeming far too pleased with himself. I narrowed my eyes at him. What was he up to?
“I’m leaving today for a small trip,” Lilian said. “If any of you have anything to discuss with me, you can find me in my study as usual.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “For the following hour.” She gave me one last pointed look, then walked out of the room, leaving me with a set of overly excited twins and their annoying brother.
I pushed my seat back as well and hurried to the door before the girls could try to convince me to have the birthday party, or worse, Preston could try to corner me again.
I walked straight up to my room, seeking solace in the stillness. I shut the door, then locked it, just in case the twins decided to come after me. The house seemed quieter than usual. No rustle of footsteps or soft laughter echoing through the halls. Only the wind tapping against the windows and the low moan of the old pipes.
I crossed to the bathroom and flicked on the lights, casting a pale halo across the tiled floor. Twisting one of the swan’s wings, I cupped cold water into my hands, pressing it to my face. The chill shocked my skin, grounding me for a moment.
I leaned forward, my hands gripping the edge of the sink, as water dripped from my chin.
The mirror suddenly fogged and I ran a palm over it, locking eyes with myself. My gaze poured into the girl on the other side of the silver surface, dark as coal. I took a shaky breath then turned?—
