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But I knew that he still didn’t believe me.
“How did you know he was my uncle?” I asked, my words hushed under the steady patter of raindrops.
With both hands back in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “Celeste Castell. Daughter of Victor and Meredith, sister of Serena, and niece of Lucas and Russell Castell.”
“How did you—”
“Russell Castell. Died twenty-two days ago from pancreatic cancer, laid to rest here eighteen days ago.”
My thoughts, my emotions, and my words were all stuck in the bottom of my throat, and he took that as a sign to continue.
“I knew you would be back, and I knew it would be today.”
“How did you know?”
“Because today’s his birthday.”
“I… How…” My words fumbled out of me with no chance of any structure. I couldn’t manage to form a cohesive thought, so I deflected. “Do you memorize all the dead people’s birthdays?”
A smooth, dark chuckle escaped him as he shook his head. “No.”
“Then why him?” I asked, then immediately shook my head. “No,no. I have a better question. Why do I need an appointment to come here? Isn’t that against common cemetery rules? Isn’t anyone allowed to come here at any time to pay respects to their loved ones? I mean,someonedrove in here before me without needing one.”
He raised a dark eyebrow at my questions. “This isn’t a cemetery, Celeste.”
“What? What do you mean? And how do you know me?” I asked. I could feel the heat rushing to my face as my voice grew louder and my tone filled with accusations I couldn’t articulate.
“This is not public grounds. This is private property. The deceased who rest here have chosen to do so.”
“Including my uncle?”
“Including your uncle.”
“Why on Earth would he want to be here? If this isn’t a cemetery, then what makes this place so special?”
The rain continued to fall between us as our eyes remained fixed on one another. Drops of water fell off the rim of his hood, streaking down past his stare. A hint of a smile lifted on his lips, catching me off guard.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” The grim words felt haunted against my skin as he inhaled deeply. “Are you going to take those to him?” He nodded to the flowers in my left hand, and I almost forgot they were there.
I looked down at the petals that were now soaked in water droplets. “Yes.”
“Let me take you to him,” he demanded, his tone remaining dark and ominous. When my eyebrows slanted downward in confusion, he added, “You can have your time with him. Without me.”
His insistence was somewhat comforting, even in the sense that he was only trying to help. But there was a subtle hesitancy, one that kept me on my toes, waiting for a reason.
“I just…” He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the area, before landing back on me. “I just want to make sure you know the way.”
With a gentle tilt of my head, I blinked. I don’t know how or why, but I could read through his forced sense of security and his words, just like he could mine. I could tell he wasn’t giving me therealreason—whatever that may be—and I knew that even if I tried, he wouldn’t tell me the truth no matter how hard I pressed.
I replied with a simple and flat “sure,” and he began walking away from the statue. I followed.
With our steps slow and easy, we walked alongside each other. His stride was long while mine was not, but I still managed to keep his pace. My flowers remained in my left hand while my right hand was shoved in my jacket pocket, keeping dry. We walked in silence for a bit before I turned my head to him.
“Do you always walk in the rain without an umbrella?”
“Do you?” he retaliated.
“No. I mean, I have an umbrella, but I forgot it. But I’m also not the one who is stuck outside constantly, like you.”
