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Soleil knew everything that happened, what I was thinking, even. But she was wrong about this. It would never be okay. Some things weren’t fixable.
I nodded, wishing I could say something to convince her I was okay, just so we didn’t have to keep talking about it. But there was nothing she’d believe.
“I’m telling you, it won’t always be like this,” she said in a firmer voice, as if she could scold me out of my misery. “Thinking like this is the most dangerous thing you can do, because it’ll lead to making mistakes that will doom you to perpetual misery.”
Wait, what? Perpetual misery? This pep talk was taking an unexpected turn.
“Soleil, I know you want to help me, but after what I…” I couldn’t even say the words, but I didn’t have to. She already knew I’d killed my grandmother. I deserved whatever happened to me.
“You won’t always be miserable. One day, without even trying, you’ll start to heal. You’ll start to care about things other than vengeance and hate and misery. And the things that you care about will grow into love and happiness until they start to squeeze out all those other bad emotions. You just have to hang in there and give it time to happen. Every day, you have to wake up and choose the good things, not the bad things, and you will get better.”
“You sound so positive.” She made it sound so easy, but I knew it wasn’t. Some people didn’t deserve good things, and maybe I was one of them.
“I am. Just remember, choose the good things—choose the things you know in your heart are therightthings.”
“Thanks, Soleil. I’ll try.” I nodded, trying to give her a halfhearted smile. She didn’t get it. She hadn’t killed the only person who’d ever loved her.
I got up, looking to retreat to my room. I didn’t want to hear about possible happiness I’d never have.
“Promise me,” she said as I went to leave.
“I’ll try,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t matter anyway.
I walked down to my room and lay there, trying to sleep and knowing I wouldn’t for a long while. Once I did, I wouldn’t stay that way for long until what I’d done crept into my dreams and haunted me there.
I was lying in my bed a half an hour later when I felt Kaden nearing, like he did every night. He’d get closer, and I’d pause whatever I was doing, wondering if he’d come to my room. Then the feeling of his presence would grow more distant as he made his way past my room on his way to his. Except this time, his presence didn’t fade. It grew stronger.
My door swung open. Kaden walked over to the foot of the bed, where I was in one of his t-shirts, and dropped a sheet of newspaper beside me. In the corner were the names I’d written on it.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Where did you get it?” I’d thrown that in the fireplace. I knew I had. How the hell had he gotten it?
“Why did you write those names?”
“I was scribbling names I’d heard.” I shrugged, trying to play down the importance of them.
“How did you hearthosenames?” He gripped the end of my bedframe, his knuckles white.
“I remembered them from Herrick’s court. I thought they might be useful at some point.” Both of those statements were true. Ihadheard the names before today, but in a fleeting manner. I also agreed with Cookie that they’d be useful. My scraps of truth were probably the only things that allowed me to sound believable. Ineededto sound believable, because Kaden seemed to have been jolted out of his frozen mode.
“Useful how? What are you planning?”
I got out of bed and met him toe to toe, getting tired of playing defense. I wasn’t the one who’d dropped the ball.
“You don’t need me to tell you. You know how I feel. I want Herrick dead. I told you that was exactly what I was going to do. One of us has to do something about it, don’t you think?”
We had a stare-off, and his body was near sizzling. “Not. You,” he said.
“Of course me. Why are you acting like you had no idea? I told you I wanted to kill him.” My body was smoldering, and I didn’t know if it was from anger or some other emotion that was bleeding in, making me feel red hot.
“We’re going to undo this transition tomorrow.” He pulled his eyes away from mine as he took a step toward the door, as if the heat roiling between us was throwing him off balance. His eyes roved over my body as he seemed to beforcinghimself to leave.
“Why? Because I might actually be able to do something about it? You want to steal that from me?” I asked, taking steps toward him.
“I didn’t think you’d be crazy enough to go run out and try to do it on your own. I’m saving you from getting yourself killed. Be ready in the morning.”
He walked out the door, and I could’ve sworn I saw Cookie jumping back into the shadows right before he did. The way he paused and glared in that direction, he must’ve as well.
