Page 101 of Lost Girl

“I’m a sucker for love, Wendy,” she shrugs, “and I know you love him, even if you won’t admit it.”

I do.

Took me crossing that portal to realize it, once it was too late to go back, but I do. I love him, miss him already with every fiber of my being. That dream, though, the message was loud and clear.

I don’t belong in Rosewood.

Don’t belong with him.

“It’s better off this way.” I bow my head, staring at the concrete of the sidewalk. “Now he doesn’t have to worry about me.”

“I highly doubt he sees it as having to worry about you, Wendy. Given all he’s done, I’d say it’s possible the Alpha loves you, too.”

He probably hates me now.My eyes mist at the possibility."I've got too much baggage, Tinksley. Everything revolving around Peter, including the miscarriage. He had to sit there while I dealt with that. Had to sit by while I've gone through episode after episode of these maddening nightmares."

Her hand reaches for mine, squeezing it sympathetically. "If he loves you, I'm sure what matters to him is getting you happy and healthy."

"And like I said, now he doesn't have to." A lone tear trails down my cheek, a warning of the dam on the verge of eruption.

"I was serious, by the way. If you ever want to come back, just find the witches," Tinksley repeats.

"You make it sound so easy.” I scoff a laugh. “I wouldn't even know where to start."

“Covent Garden, that’s where they are.”

Noted.

"Thank you again.” Pulling my hand free from hers, I offer her the best smile I can manage in my current state. “It was late and you didn't have to bring me but—"

"You needed help. I couldn’t send you back to Tavi’s like that. I still don’t think here”—she motions around us—“is the answer, but you have to do what’s right for you. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I’ll try.”

A quick hug, another uncertain glance, and then she’s gone, flashing away out of sight.

“Well…” I stare up at the top of the building one last time. “Home sweet home.”

Up the steps on semi-wobbly legs I go, then through the front door. I’m pleased to find the inside as quiet as always, but an immediate eeriness follows. Swallowing deeply, I make my way to the lift and smash my thumb into the up arrow, glancing around nervously as I wait for the cart to arrive.

The signaling ding leaves me gasping like an idiot, my hand flying to my chest. Not a soul emerges, allowing me to swoop in and shut the doors right behind myself. I hit the three, then retreat to the back wall, hands gripping the steel railing for support. I keep my stare downcast, too, not wanting to see my reflection painted all around.

You shouldn’t be here,a whisper in my mind.You need to leave.

It’s not the same whisper from my dreams, but it chills me to my core no less, barreling me out into the corridor upon the second ding, hands rubbing at the goosepimples spreading beneath the coat Tinksley gave me.

Everything is going to be fine, we’re fine,I try convincing myself as I amble down the corridor.It’s going to be fine.

Only...it’s not.

The bright yellow notice taped to my door proves as much.

Pulse galloping wildly, I pad up the rest of the way and glaze over the words, growing sicker with each passing line. What sticks out most?...is still part of an on-going investigation.

That can only mean one thing.

The dream was right.Hook was right. I can’t be here, can’t be seen here. They think I did it. If justoneperson recognizes me,just one,this could end badly. I could be arrested, thrown into prison.

One half of my brain hollers for rationality, for me to look at this from every angle before jumping to conclusions.

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