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As he watched, Carmine thought she looked different from the girl he’d encountered that first day. There was no awkwardness, the tension that radiated from her a distant memory. Out in the yard, under the shine of the moon, she seemed relaxed and carefree.
* * *
Haven sat down and spread out her legs, the lush grass tickling her feet. She inhaled deeply, the cool night air a far cry from the dusty shallow breaths she forced into her lungs growing up. It smelled different here, clean and crisp. Everything was green. She’d never given the color much thought before, but she realized it was more than something to see. It was a feeling, a taste, a smell. It was the dampness of the grass and the shelter of the trees. It was fresh. It was comforting. Green was happiness.
Green made her belly rumble, and the feeling terrified her.
The few trees she saw in Blackburn were barren, deformed sticks jutting from the ground, but here they were giant umbrellas of leaves towering above her.
She stared at the jar in her lap, the half-dozen fireflies trapped inside flickering at regular intervals. She found it strange the way they blinked in harmony, a silent melody she yearned to hear. “I wonder what they’re saying,” she said, shattering the silence that had settled between them.
Carmine pointed at the jar. “I’m pretty sure this one just told that one it had a nice glowy ass.”
“And the others?”
“Ah, well, that one’s jealous, because it wanted the one with the nice ass,” he said, pointing again. “And the others are gossiping. You know—who did who, why, where, when, what-the-fuck.”
“I didn’t realize bugs were so scandalous.”
He laughed. “It’s nature. They can’t help themselves.”
She stared at the jar, having no idea what to make of it.
Carmine stood after a few minutes, brushing the grass from his pants. “We should head inside before we get caught. You can bring the bugs with you.”
Shaking her head, she unscrewed the lid. “They should be free,” she said quietly, watching as the fireflies flew away.
Carmine grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet, and her fingertips tingled from his touch. The sensation alarmed her. It was like electricity under her skin, running through her veins and jolting her heart. Her pulse raced as she averted her gaze, not daring to look him in the eyes.
His eyes—green, like the grass and the trees.
Haven felt like she, too, was suddenly glowing.
6
Evasion became a way of life for Haven again during the next few weeks, but deep down she knew it couldn’t last. As she headed downstairs one Friday to do her work, she heard the television playing in the family room, although everyone should have been gone for the day. Her pulse quickened. Every weekday she had been left alone until three o’clock. She didn’t like her routine being disrupted.
Quietly, she walked to the family room and saw Dr. DeMarco sitting on the couch. He addressed her without even looking up. “Good morning, child.”
Bewildered, she mumbled, “Good morning, Master.”
Dr. DeMarco shook his head. “Calling me that is unnecessary. It makes me feel like you place me on the same level as Antonelli, and I like to think of myself as a better man than that.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“No need to apologize. Call me Vincent, if you’d like.”
She was shocked he would ask her to use his first name. “Can I get you something?”
“No, I was waiting for you. I’ve been putting it off, but your checkup needs to be done today.”
Her eyes widened.
“It shouldn’t take long,” he said, finally looking at her. “And on the bright side, you get to leave the house for a bit. You haven’t been outside since you’ve gotten here.”
Not true, but she didn’t dare correct him.
* * *
