Page 64 of Strange Lights

The devastation that crosses his face is, for once, easy for me to read. He closes his eyes for a moment, swears, then opens his eyes, steady and composed once again. Luca looks at Zara crying in my bed. “Do you want me to take her?” he asks quietly, with complete sincerity. “I would take care of her like my own sister until you and Meredith could join us,” he continues without hesitation.

“No,” I say reflexively. I consider changing my mind, but the decision is already made as Luca nods, looking disappointed. It’s selfish, but I can’t bear the thought of both of them leaving. I think I’ll wonder if I’ve made the right decision at this moment for the rest of my life.

Zara watches the entire exchange in wide-eyed silence.

“You saw nothing tonight,” I say to Zara as I leave. She nods, mute.

I lead Luca through the door in the back of Adele’s closet. An emergency escape hatch I learned about years ago and have kept in my back pocket. She thinks it only works for her because it is keyed to only her DNA. But I discovered the loophole: The smallest smear of my blood from me, Adele’s daughter, will unlock it too. Along the walk, Luca makes me repeat an email address and phone number until he’s sure I have it memorized.

“If I get out, I’ll contact you,” I say. Though I’m afraid it’s an empty promise.

“When you leave, I’ll be waiting,” he promises.

“Luca,” I say, “I’m sorry⁠—”

“Reggie, don’t. I don’t want to hear it; it doesn’t matter. I owe you. Call in that favor anytime.”

We’ve reached the end of the hallway. I swing the door open, and the desert night air flows in, electric with artificial lightning, rain, and wind battering our faces, even in the shelter of the doorway.

I fight the urge to shudder, flinch away from the electricity coursing through the air. Luca breathes in deeply, closes his eyes, the first taste of freedom he’s had in almost two months. But he turns back almost immediately, steps close, and reaches for me. I let him pull me in, one hand searing my waist, the other reaching up, unlatching the mask and gently pulling it from my face.

“You’re kind of beautiful,” he says, a sad smile on his face.

I’m crying as he presses a bruising kiss to my lips, biting down almost hard enough to draw blood before pulling back to look at me one last time.

“Bye, Luca.”

“See you later, sweetheart,” he says, then turns, transforms, and runs into the desert, a massive wolf with fur the color of raven’s feathers disappearing into the night.

Though I want to watch forever, searching the dark, convincing myself I can still see him, I turn away. Because I can’t fall apart⁠—no time for sentiment. I dry my eyes, replace my mask on my face. Inside, I peek at Zara, somehow sound asleep, even with the lightning flashing and the overhead light still on. No one is in the corridors as I make my way to the farthest open-air exit from our living quarters. I’ll buy Luca as much time as I can.

When I walk out into the desert, the rain is hot, the lightning so close I can feel the static in the air. But I don’t flinch, because nothing can hurt me more than this. I almost don’t cling onto Adele tonight. Let her fall for all I care. But somehow I still do care the tiniest bit. There’s one thing Adele can’t take from me now. One person I’ve placed beyond her reach. I sit in the rain for hours, mud soaking my clothes as I lie down on the desert ground. As the sun rises, I pull the mask from my face and let the heat dry my tears. I fight the urge to turn, knowing Luca is running the opposite way, and pretend I’m watching this direction for a reason. Every minute I buy is another minute for him to run in the other direction. Every minute costs me dearly, eats away at my resolve to stay.

I lie there in the dirt until Adele’s guards reach me. They strap the mask back on my unresisting face roughly. I force them to half drag, half carry me down to the dungeon. By the time we arrive, my mind is somewhere else entirely, running through the desert with a werewolf.

They throw me in Luca’s old cell. I wear his T-shirt and pants, left discarded there, for the entire week. They stop smelling like him by day three. The only way to mark the days are the shift changes of the masked guards, my only visitors. When I’m finally released, they simply unlock the door, leave the key in the lock. Zara and Meredith both rush to hug me, despite how I must smell in clothes I’ve worn for a week.

“Stay,” Meredith says.

“You should have let me go,” Zara says.

27

Untethered

The darkness that creeps over my soul in the months following Luca’s escape covers everything in the blurry, sepia-toned haze of old photographs. I’m present, yet I’m not. I’m a stone skipping across time, occasionally dipping below the surface and reemerging disoriented and out of breath. Sometimes I don’t know where entire days go. Other times, a minute takes an hour; the clock seems static. I will never escape this moment, trapped as I am in one of those nightmares where I’m trying to run but can’t because I’m sinking into quicksand.

I’m allowed to see my sisters, but we’re watched closely; my mother assigns guards to “protect” us. Meredith is the only one young enough to take that at face value, but even she remains wary of the guards. We have no time alone together.

My sisters. I love them. I always have. They are the reason I don’t disappear entirely and leave behind an empty shell in a mask. Meredith is only three and clings to me every spare moment. Zara, too, follows me like a shadow. It’s as if we’ve time-traveled back to before I banished her from the werewolf project, as if Luca never existed. At first, I relish it, soaking in their closeness and warmth. I stayed here for them; I gave up Luca for them.

But it’s strange how quickly it becomes too much, every touch smothering and heavy. The guilt from neglecting them during the last two months I spent largely in the dungeon with Luca usually keeps me from snapping at the both of them. But I resent them. It tears at me every moment I’m around them. I shouldn’t have to be their parent. But I do keep choosing them. It’s my own fault now.

Meredith is as heavy as an anchor, tying me down. But I never can tell if she’s dragging me below a tranquil ocean, down to the depths to drown, or if maybe she’s all that’s holding me steady in a storm-churned sea, the last lifeline keeping me afloat. Sometimes it feels like both.

Zara loves me, but she hates me for it. I can’t say I don’t understand. I can’t say I don’t feel the same way. It seems so long ago I was her age, and I don’t know how to relate anymore. She’s almost a teenager, right on the cusp of leaving childhood, a childhood she didn’t really have. Neither of us really had a childhood. At her age, I had my first baby sister to care for. Zara at least has me, but ironically, I think that maybe she’d be better off without me. Perhaps I should have run with Luca. I know I should have sent Zara, at least, with him. Sometimes I wish I had. Sometimes I still think about sending her to him. But I’m too selfish for that, even if it was possible.

I’ve been relegated to menial tasks, a clear sign of Adele’s distrust in me, the heir fallen out of favor. She even takes Zara under her wing, having Zara shadow her for “training” at least once or twice a week. I can feel the distance growing between Zara and me, but I’m powerless to stop it.