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I crept inside the closet, quietly shutting it except for a tiny crack. I wanted the advantage of seeing the intruder before they saw me. A few seconds seemed like hours as I waited, and I wondered if the person had left. My hope was dashed when I suddenly heard the creak of a floorboard in the hallway. I held my breath, praying that this wasn't how it was going to end. I kept my eyes trained on the crack in the closet door, tightening my grip on the lamp, although my sweaty palms were making it difficult.
I wanted to whimper when I saw a shadow on the ground through the slit of the closet door, but I forced myself to swallow it. A hand reached out for the knob and I raised the lamp, ready to fight for my life.
The closet door swung open and I launched myself forward, the lamp held high, ready to make contact with whatever was in front of me.
"Whoa, whoa!" I heard a voice yell out. "Caitlin, it's me!"
My mouth dropped open, my shock almost comedic if it hadn't been for the circumstances. I lowered my arms, the lamp sliding from my damp fingers and landing on the floor with a thud. My heart pumped even faster, but this time it wasn't from fear.
Simon dropped the fireplace poker that he had been holding and grabbed me, hauling me forward into his arms. He held me tight, burying his face in my neck, and my arms automatically lifted, clutching tightly around his neck.
I felt relief and joy coursing through me. His body against mine felt so life-affirming, so comforting, that I wanted to weep.
"Christ, Caitlin," he muttered against my neck. "I thought I was never going to see you again."
"I'm sorry," I whispered. I didn't know what else to say, how to explain everything that had happened. So I just repeated the words. "I'm sorry."
Simon pulled back slightly so that he could look at my face, lifting a hand and grazing my cheek with the back of his knuckles, as if to confirm that I was actually standing in front of him. I saw a multitude of emotions cross his face; relief, happiness, confusion, anger. The last emotion seemed to have staying power as he dropped his arms, stepping back. I felt the loss of his embrace and I
nervously gripped my hands together, knowing that I had a lot to answer for.
"What are you sorry for?"
I had a feeling that a lot was riding on how I answered his question.
"I'm sorry for leaving like I did." My voice was a whisper and I cleared my throat, speaking more loudly. "I'm sorry for not trusting you. There's just...there are a lot of things I've had to deal with that are hard to explain."
My last statement was so ludicrous that I laughed, although there was no humor in the sound.
Simon took a deep breath, studying me. Despite everything that had happened, the circumstances we were in, I drank in the sight of him hungrily. He looked tired, his face strained and pale with dark circles under his eyes. But he was beautiful despite it all. I clenched my hands into fists, stopping myself from reaching up and sweeping his dark hair back from his face, to feel the silky smooth texture between my fingers. His blue eyes seemed duller than usual, but they were just as effective in piercing straight into me.
"Try me," he said flatly. His elation over finding me seemed to have passed.
I sat down on the bed, feeling weak from the adrenaline rush that had drained from my body, leaving only exhaustion. I looked up at Simon, my mouth twisting. "I don't even know where to start."
Simon's eyes softened as he looked at me but his expression remained resolute. "Why don't you start with the visions?"
"How much has Sarah told you?" I glanced behind him as if I expected her to pop her head out. "Where is she?"
"I think she's pretty much told me everything she knows. She didn't want to, but we thought...we thought it was a life and death situation. She came down to Connecticut with me yesterday and we stopped by here, but when we didn't find anything she went back up to Maxwell."
I nodded, sighing deeply. "I figured as much. I...I was here yesterday. I overheard you and Sarah talking."
Simon's expression darkened, his lips tightening. "You were hiding from us?"
"I was trying to protect you! Both you and Sarah. It's not easy to explain."
I looked down at the floor, debating how much to tell. A part of me believed that I should try to hide what was really happening, but I was tired of keeping secrets. I was tired of trying to do this alone. Simon had a right to know what was happening, especially since he was in danger. He deserved to have all the facts so he could make decisions based on all the information.
"Sarah doesn't know that it's gone beyond just my visions. Beyond meeting the people in my visions in real life." I bit my lip, knowing that it was going to sound insane. "It's a little hard to believe."
"I'll be the judge of that," Simon said, expressionless. He sat down on the bed next to me, but not close enough that we were touching.
Everything poured out of me. About my aunt's disappearance and the whole notion of vardogers trying to overtake their people. About Lenore having vanished, just like my aunt, and about Claudia, who had already been overtaken by her vardoger. I told him how she was determined to destroy me, using the vardogers of Sarah and him. I told him everything, watching his face as I confessed things that would forever change how he looked at the world. I wasn't sure whether he believed me. He didn't say a word, his expression enigmatic.
"I told you it was hard to believe," I said when I was finished, trying to smile but failing. I nervously waited for Simon to speak.
"It's a lot to take in," he said finally, his words measured. "I'm not sure what to think right now."
