Page 28 of The Secrets of Roan Island

Her barking laugh is too bitter for this powerful woman I’ve observed over the past… has it really only been two weeks?

She ducks out of my hold and starts around the circle of the parapet. The wind lashes her skirts around her legs and tugs at her hair. I envy the wind’s ability to undo her. I want to yank out the last pins and run my fingers through those silky strands. Wrap them around my fist and pull.

“My ex-husband is the dean of my department,” she says, continuing our conversation as she walks. “He’s threatened to fire me multiple times already. My only hope is to make myself so valuable to the college that he wouldn’t dare to go through with it.”

With a satisfied smirk, I tuck the information away and consider all the things I’ll do once I track down the man she just inadvertently revealed. Her abuser will meet his end at my wrath.

She stops, staring at the landscape beyond. “I have no other source of income. My only skill is research. If I can’t secure this grant…”

I turn her, tilting her chin up. Her eyes flutter closed momentarily until I brush my thumb along her cheekbone, enticing her to look at me. Her pupils dilate, and my breath collects in my chest, my hearts at war with my lungs, both needing more. “I’ll get you your grant, Ruby.”

She swallows. Our eyes hold.

The thought of her leaving guts me like a knife ripping through my sternum. But having her here during the new moon, when my brothers and I are overcome with hunger, when my father is most uncontrollable… I can’t risk it.

I’ll give her some of Zarah’s old jewelry. There should be plenty there for the grant. Or she can live off of it herself for a few years until she gets her feet under her. I don’t care what she does with it, as long as she’s safe. “Then you’ll leave.”

“What about my research?” she whispers.

I clear my throat and step away, putting distance between myself and temptation. “You won’t find anything here.” Folding my hands together behind my back to keep from reaching out to her again, I tell her exactly how this will go. “I’ll escort you to the boat early in the morning.”

Before my father wakes. Before he can stop it from happening. Before the new moon party tomorrow night.

15

Ruby

If what Noah promised is true, this is officially my last night on Roan Island. I should be relieved to be leaving this foreboding place, but instead I’m wound up with an edgy energy that threatens to burst out like the fireworks lighting a dark sky during the Summer Solstice party in New Essik. I replay each of Noah’s touches, his words, the way I was certain he wanted to kiss me. I think about the corridor, the rooftop, the words left unsaid. If this is going to be my last night at the Roan Estate, I’m going to spend it doing something reckless. I’m going to settle my curiosity and learn what they’re hiding behind that painting.

Without second guessing the decision, I slip out of my room and rush through the corridors. I don’t linger at any of the paintings or the doors, walking straight to the portrait of the woman in white. Then stumble.

The door isn’t sitting flush against the wall. Instead, it’s slightly ajar, propped open with a book.

Replacing the book with my foot, I read the title:A History of San Vertuby Graham Miliken. It’s the book Shemaiah gave me to read. After skimming the rest of it and finding nothing of interest, I’d returned it to the library earlier today. I scan the hall, searching for Shemaiah. Is he trying to tell me something? But there’s no one around. No footsteps. No voices.

I hesitate, wondering for a moment if this is a good idea, but my curiosity is overpowering. It drags me forward like an animal on a leash. There’s something going on here at the Roan estate, and I can’t leave without trying to find out what it is.

I step through the doorway and replace the book before taking in the dark passage. I’m grateful for the dim light of my candelabra, though the murky gloom of the stairwell is enough to close my throat. As much as I want to discover Roan Island’s secrets, the darkness and the unknown freeze my courage.

Imagine your sister’s final cries,David’s voice taunts.

The shadows close in, and I stumble back, bumping into the frame propped open behind me.

David. Always David. And my terror about what happened to my sister. Tears threaten, stinging my eyes and my throat.

But rather than succumbing to them, they make me angry. I don’t want to be afraid. I don’t want to give David my power anymore. I’m here to take it back, so even as I fear that pervasive darkness, I ease down the steep, curved stairs, my curiosity stronger than the anxiety that haunts me.

The muted light from the candelabra reveals stones much like those that line the hallway where Noah took me earlier today. Unbidden, my mind takes me there once more, with Noah’s face near my neck, his breath teasing the sensitive skin. I grip the candelabra tighter.

“Focus, Ruby Rose,” I whisper and force myself to continue, one hand on the wall, the other clutching the candelabra.

Suddenly, everything around me shifts.

I stop.

The stairwell swirls and swivels, as if I’ve flipped over onto my head, my stomach slowly dropping through my body to follow the rest of me. But I’m still standing where I stopped, my hand pressed against the stone. The cool rock feels smoother beneath my fingertips. My stomach lurches, and I wonder if I have one of those horrific headaches coming on. And at such a time!

When I get my bearings and the nausea subsides, I find myself walking up the stairway rather than down. Everything is the same: the stone, the steps, the darkness. I consider turning around, but some instinct tells me to press on, so I continue up until the passage comes to a dead end. When I push, the wall gives, swinging open to reveal a mirror image of the hallway I left.

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