Page 159 of The Sound of Him

I had told Keaton to be safe and thanked him before turning my focus to Matt, who was watching me with something different in his eyes. Something analyzing, almost. It’s not a look I enjoyed feeling from him. I like when he gets curious, asking questions and creating conversations, but this is something else.

Looking at him, I became keanly aware that I just had a conversation I wouldn’t have been able to have in front of the operatives. Not if I wanted to keep my secrets, at least. My mind was spinning.What had I said? Was it enough for him to figure it out too? Or to at least figure out something is off, even if he can’t place what?

Panicking, I had found myself coming up with an excuse to get away from Matt for the first time. I’d even been a dick about it, though not on purpose. I hadn’t thought it through when I chose to make the excuse about food. I know there’s something off about his eating habits, but my brain hasn’t been running on all cylinders, and I’d just known I needed to get him away so I could figure things out.

When I’d announced we should go downstairs and see what’s for dinner, he’d immediately locked up with anxiety. I wasn’tsurprised when he slipped away in the opposite direction when he went out into the hall. When I’d seen him fifteen minutes later with Bryce and Nolan, Bryce looking like he wasn’t going to let him go anytime soon, I’d been relieved.

Today, nearly 24 hours later, without a single sighting of him since then, Istillfeel relieved. I hate myself for that, but I just let it pile up on top of everything else on my shoulders as I keep putting one foot in front of the other.

My eyes keep burning, but I can’t seem to cry.

I have an alarm set to go off every 15 minutes.

I’m keeping it together.

I should sleep. Everyone else is sleeping. There’s nothing for me to do. Not really. Nothing that can’t wait.

What is Pasternak doing to Elliot right this minute?

And what about those other kids I found while looking for him?

Twenty-seven of them.

Twenty-seven of them across multiple time zones.

What’s happening to them right now?

I could get some rest, at least. Use the alarms again.

Instead, I pace. I listen to harsh, angry music I don’t even like. I organize the snacks by color of bag or box, then by their ratio of crunchy versus soft, then by savory by sweet, then by color again. I rearrange my trinkets.

When I can’t physically stand up anymore, I sit in my chair.

I set an alarm, lay my arm on my desk, lay my head on my arm.

I try to think of a new idea for the prank war I’ve started with Jake. It’s my turn, him having pranked me last night. He had looked so happy afterward. That was the goal. Just like how I try to make Travis laugh with my fashion rants and get Maison to smile with my gentle teasing about Nolan. They’ve been through hell. I just want to help them while they try to navigate their escape of it.

I let my eyes fall closed.

The alarm goes off.

I set another.

The alarm goes off.

I set another.

Off.

Another.

Off.

Another.

Another.

Another.