Page 53 of In All My Dreams

It’s a scent I could drown in.

I nearly choke on my next breath when the thought crosses my mind. I don’t take drowning lightly after what happened to Ree.

“You okay?” Georgia asks softly. “You sort of disappeared there.”

I let out an amused chuckle. “I forget sometimes that you know me so well.”

“About as well as you know me, I suppose,” she muses, laying her head against my shoulder. “Now, let’s read before we start getting all sappy and ruining it with all our tortured secrets.”

This time, my lungs do stop in my chest because I know tonight is more than just us being us. Tonight feels heavier, more important.

My fate will be decided tonight. My life will either go exactly back to the way it has been over the last six years, miserablyalone and wishing I wasn’t such a coward when I left Georgia in that bed the way I did.

Or it’ll be the turning point in this tug-of-war relationship we’ve had since we were kids, tormented by our losses as grief attempted to swallow us whole while we clung to each other for dear life.

For some odd reason, I’m nervous to read this next passage. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing at full attention, and I look around the room in a nonchalant manner so I don’t spook Georgia. I never see anything, no ghosts like she does.

But I swear I can feel them, watching me, judging me, waiting for me in the darkest corners of the rooms here at Crane.

I shake my head, snapping myself out of my eerie thoughts before I clear my throat and bring Caroline’s diary closer to my face so I can read it easier in the muted light.

Dear Georgia,

I have no words. Truly, I am at a loss for them.

I just got done tucking you back into bed. You remembered nothing from the lake. I wish I had that same luxury tonight.

Because tonight, I committed the worst possible sin a mother could ever commit.

I did something horrible, truly monstrous . . .

Before I can read further, Georgia snatches the book out of my hand and grips it tightly to her chest. Her face is void of all color, making the splash of freckles on her cheeks look like splatters of black ink.

“Georgie?” I know my eyes must be a mixture of shock and concern. “What happened?” I place my hand on her knee, squeezing gently, hoping it’ll jar her out of whatever inner turmoil she’s battling.

She finally meets my eyes. “Ian, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve needed to tell you for years,” she whispers, her lower lip trembling with each word. “Something you’re going to hate me for.” Her voice is a gentle whisper, but the words give me goosebumps.

I turn so we are facing each other. I grab onto her hands, forcing the diary to fall on her lap, and twine my fingers with hers. “Whatever it is, Georgia,” I tell her, hoping that my voice isn’t shaking the way my chest is, “we will figure it out. I promise.”

She shakes her head as two tears stream down her face.

“I don’t know how to even start this conversation, Ian,” she gasps out, her chest shaking with each breath.

“Shh, it’s okay. Let’s just start at the beginning, you know, like a storybook. Like we used to do when we were kids and were too upset for words. Where does this tale take place?” I ask her calmly.

“Here, at Crane Manor.”

I take another calming breath, hoping she’ll follow along. “Okay, that’s good. Now, when does this tale take place?”

She yanks her hands out of mine and covers her face completely as huge, body-racking sobs escape her. I pull her into my arms, holding her close and stroking her back in comforting caresses until she’s ready to talk again.

“It happened the night Irene died,” she finally says, her whole body tensing in my arms.

Irene?

That is not what I was expecting to come out of her mouth. What about my sister’s death could be the cause of Georgia’s distress right now?

“Remember how I used to sleepwalk as a child?” Georgia asks. I shake my head yes; she must have felt it because she continues. “The night she died...she was at a sleepover here at Crane.”

---