Silence settled around us, and I used the opportunity to take the seat beside him.
“And what about chess?”
“My mum as well.” If I closed my eyes, I could still see the two of us sitting across from each other, playing one of our nightly matches. My heart clenched. “She carved a whole chessboard into our table,” I said before I could bite my tongue.
Momentary silence wrapped around us again, and I already wished I could withdraw what I said.
“Well, I’m officially offended.” Preston leaned back on the chair. I raised my eyes at him, confused.
“My parents never carved a chessboard for me.”
A faint snort escaped me before I turned back toward the forest. The silence between us was gentle, not sharp like before.I fiddled with the edge of my sleeve, my fingers picking at a stray thread.
“What happened?” The question surprised even me.
I didn’t specify what I meant, but he understood.
“They were murdered.”
The air shifted. The heavy word hung between us, its cold fingers clawing at my skin. I knew grief all too well to mistake the scent of it now as it filled the air, thick and oppressive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ELODIE
Iwandered between the long rows of the main library, searching for anything that could be related to the Great Monster or the Aldridge family. I wanted to learn more about this fiancé I apparently used to have, and the bogeyman that supposedly haunted the land by stealing sheep.
My fingers drifted across the leather spines, trailing down faded letters and volumes that smelled of old smoke and lavender. Just like the nameless ghost did whenever she appeared.
I rounded the corner and nearly collided with someone coming from the other direction.
“Hudson.” I drew back, surprised to see him. The last time we met he had left in a hurry, leaving only that now destroyed note behind. And yet, there was something about his presence that made the dark walls brighten, and the air stir differently.
“Elodie,” he greeted, a flicker of relief crossing his face. My brows knit at the expression. “I wasn’t sure we would meet today.” He placed the books in his hand down on the closest shelf. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“There is?” I frowned. He had spoken so simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
He nodded, glancing around the room as if making sure the books didn’t grow ears while we were talking. Then he gestured at a lonely table crammed between two tall shelves. Silence settled between us like dust, as we sat opposite each other.
“The last time we met, you asked me about Alex Aldridge,” he said, leaning back on the mahogany chair. “And before that, about your mum and her friends.”
I wet my lips, and nodded, my body tense with eager curiosity. Does he know something about how the Aldridge family died? If so…maybe he also knows something about my supposed dead fiancé.
“WhileIcannot answer your questions…your mum can.”
My eyes widened as my gaze darted around the room, expecting her ghost to appear, gliding through the shelves. Instead, Hudson held out an envelope.
The air thinned, my bones growing heavy under my flesh as I reached for the yellowed paper. It was soft under my fingertips as I placed it down on the gleaming wood of the desk.
I looked up at Hudson again, but his face was blank, telling me none of the secrets he might be holding. I slowly opened the envelope and pulled out a letter, the rhythm in my chest turning brittle.
I could feel Hudson watching, but I kept my gaze on the paper.
Yours.
For the baby.
I couldn’t breathe, I just stared, waiting for the words to rearrange themselves. But they didn’t. Was Hudson Lamont my father? Slowly, I looked up. Hudson’s blue eyes were like steel. He had his index finger pressed against his lips in a hushing motion. I blinked, and he gestured around the room. Were we being listened to?
