Bridget considers this for a silent moment, allowing me to regain my breath. I don’t know how much of her hesitation is fear of offending me and how much is fearofme.
“Did he turn your eyes like that?” Liney asks.
“They’ll fade,” I say dryly, like it’s an obvious scientific phenomenon.
“How do you control it?” Bridget, this time. Thank God these two are curious.
“Gifts aren’t controlled.” I wave my hand dismissively. “They’re appreciated.”
The woman I attempted to murder only moments ago looks at me ruefully, a grimace spreading. “Sisters are gifts too, are they not?”
A flash of heat threatens to flare up. I glance at Liney. “Did you mean what you said?”
Liney’s lip trembles, her grip tight on Bridget’s soaked-through clothing.
“Yes,” she says, barely hesitating. “I don’t know what happened to you, Elle, or whatever it is you think you’re doing. If you hurt her, you’ll never see me again.”
She couldn’t be clearer. I couldn’t be further from salvation.
I make it a few steps, treading around them with plenty of room.
“Aren’t you going to apologize to me?” Bridget’s voice holds its own steel.
I turn back, surprised by the question. Bridget stays lying on the sand in Liney’s arms. She looks up at a star-filled swath of sky between smears of cloud. Oddly beautiful, but all the wrong colors as my vision slowly drains of red.
“Pardon?”
“You tried to kill me. That warrants an apology.”
She should be thankful, not demanding. My sister’s foolishness has saved her. Temporarily. I need to reach Mr. Pratterman, especially since he’s doubtless sensed this calamity.
“I can’t apologize for protecting my sister, Miss Coleman.”
Bridget nods, surprisingly polite. Though I’m her attempted murderer, I’m also herfriend’solder sister promising a way out for her.
I head back to the lighthouse, the two of them in tow. I show them the soup, hoping they’ll follow my lead to pretend the last ten minutes didn’t happen, and head upstairs to check on the supplies. Always on to the next task. My final list of items to purchase doesn’t match the numbers Liney was putting together. Because she expects to need enough for three, not just two.
When I head back down, Liney asks endless questions lined with bared teeth.Since when can you exorcise people? What made you think Bridget was a demon? Why are you such a terrible sister? When are we leaving?
I’ve never heard her more vicious or more like me.
“We?” I repeat, rounding on her. “No. You’ve proven you’re not ready for the responsibility of the mainland.”
The waterworks begin. But I’ve had enough. Liney has nothing to truly cry about. The safest place for them both, if they like scheming so much, is on the island while I’m away.
“You’re not the only one hurt here!” It bursts out of me, loud and sharp. Her lip quivers, but the rest of her stills. “Do you know how humiliating it is to know you’ve been sneaking off tokisssomestranger?”
Bridget, sitting on the couch, side-eyes me.
“If she were a man—”
I roll my eyes. “Caroline. You knowthatisn’t my problem.”
Her expression turns sheepish. “I haven’t been hiding this. It was our first. I swear.”
I raise my arms, an invitation. “Here’s your chance, then. No overreaction, no anger, nothing. You and me. Is there anything else that you’re hiding from me?”
Liney gulps. What I’d pay to hear her thoughts now as she considers what’s safe between us. Seconds tick by, rough as sandpaper.
