Page 19 of Written in Red

Did that mean one or both of his parents had multiple attachments as well? Or had there been other people in their home? Grandparents, perhaps. Siblings.

I might have had siblings. Siblings.

He pushed the thought away, not daring to hope.

“Were there other people there beyond me and my parents?”

She blinked a few times. “I don’t remember.”

“If you tried very hard to remember, do you think you could?” A pleading quality entered his voice. “I would very much like to know a little bit about who I am.”

“Who you are,” she said, “has very little to do with who you were born.”

Holly Hock floated out of the room, leaving Mercury frozen in place, thoughts swirling around her pronouncement.

Who you are has very little to do with who you were born.

But he very much wanted to know more about who he had once been. To know anything about who he had once been.

He was a fugitive and an outlaw and, in many ways, a liar. Life had set him on a path that required that of him. But that path had also made him resilient and focused. He’d survived, but he’d also thrived. He’d found strength he might not have otherwise. He’d lost the family he was born to but he’d gained a family of ghosts who valued him and stood beside him even in the face of overwhelming difficulties.

Who you are has very little to do with who you were born.

The door to his room opened. Tacey stepped inside. Enough light spilled from the window for him to see the amused and bewildered look on her face. And in the next moment, he noticed something odder still. The hem of her nightdress fluttered in the oddest way. Only the front of it moved, and it did so without any draft or wind to explain the movement. The fluttering made it almost point at him.

Tacey looked on the verge of laughter, clearly enjoying whatever was happening.

“I haven’t the first idea what is happening,” she said. “I cannot see whatever it is that is tugging on my nightdress, but it obviously wants me to come in here.”

He thought when she first saw the quill moving on his desk that he’d have to explain then. Now he wished he had. This was going to be awkward.

“That is likely the Reluctant Recluse,” Mercury said, shrugging a little at how ridiculous the situation was.

“And who is the Reluctant Recluse?”

“I met a ghost recently with a very unusual ability,” Mercury said. “That ghost can see and hear Invisibles. And he informed me that I have one.”

“You have an Invisible?” Her surprise could not have been more apparent.

“One even I can’t hear or see. He’s likely been with me my entire life, and I hadn’t any idea.”

Tacey blinked a few times and shook her head in silent surprise and confusion. “You can’t see your own Invisible?”

“I can’t.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Tacey said.

“Until I was told about the Reluctant Recluse, neither had I.”

Tacey looked down at her still-tugged nightdress. “And it is this Invisible who is leading me so persistently in here?”

“I suspect he is. Is there force behind the fluttering?” Mercury assumed the Reluctant Recluse’s ability to manipulate physical objects was quite weak, making him struggle with something as light as a quill.

“None at all,” Tacey said. “I’m following out of curiosity, not out of an inability to resist it.”

The hem of her nightdress grew suddenly still, falling back into place. Mercury looked all around the room, wondering what his invisible ghost would move next. But nothing did. Even the quill, which Mercury had made certain to leave out on the little table, sat perfectly still.

“You must’ve brought her in here for a reason,” Mercury said to the room. “Feel free to let me in on the secret.”