Page 33 of The Girl and the Cobra

Before I turn around, I already know who it is I’m going to see, but I turn all the same. The moment I do, the sky turns to twilight, casting unnatural shadows on the beach. Still, the boy standing opposite me remains eerily lit up.

My heart constricts. Jordan.

He stands less than five feet away, wearing his favorite polo shirt and dark blue jeans. His yellow hair is a little messy, but his blue eyes are crisp and clear as ever. The expression he wears when I face him is one of utter disappointment, like I failed him in some way.

I open my mouth to speak, to tell him I haven’t forgotten him, but no words come out. It’s as if my voice refuses to work, like I lost it somewhere along the way.

“Everything I did, I did for you,” Jordan tells me. “I did it all for you and you forgot me.”

Finally, I’m able to speak, and the lone word that comes out of me is, “No.” I try reaching for him as I take a single step forward, but when I blink, Jordan wears different clothes with blood splattered all over them. A big gun is slung across his chest, and more blood dots his face.

“It was for you,” Jordan says again. “I killed them for you, and what do I get? Forgotten. Replaced. I thought we shared a soul, Mabel. It was always supposed to be us at the end.” Something changes in his eyes, and I take a step back the same second he raises that huge weapon and points it at me. “We’re one, whether you like it or not. If I die, you die.”

I close my eyes and turn my face away, my stomach dropping to the sandy ground. There’s no point in denying the inevitable.

When my brother puts his finger on the trigger, I can feel it. The air around us changes, turns sour, and my heart threatens to burst out of my chest. This is the end. This has always been the end. Jordan and I came into this world together, and we would leave it together, too. Codependency at its finest.

Jordan pulls the trigger, and I—

Wake up?

I jerk as I awaken, hearing a few knocks on my door. Though that dream is still alive and swimming around in my brain, I do my best to push it aside as I yawn and say, “Come in.” There’s only two other people in this house, and given how early it feels, it must be Dr. Wolf.

He told me we would talk in the morning, after he made sure I was alright. He wanted to call my dad, but I didn’t let him. I’m fine. Ankle hurts a bit, but taking it easy for a week or two should do the trick. No need to worry my dad needlessly.

With the sun shining through the windows on the far side of the room, I can safely assume it’s morning and it’s time to talk.

My bedroom door opens as I work on sitting up. I still wear the same clothes I wore last night; I was too tired to take them off and get into actual pajamas. I’m sure I look terrible; my hair is probably a greasy, knotty mess, but oh well.

Dr. Wolf walks in, balancing a wooden tray with a plate of scrambled eggs, a small bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice.The man wears a snug suit, alerting me to the fact that, while it is breakfast in bed, it is also business.

“Good morning,” Dr. Wolf says with a slight smile as he brings that tray to me. “I trust you slept well?” He places the tray on the bed beside me with a careful hand, watching me all the while.

The dream of Jordan is alive and bright in my mind, but I don’t really want to talk about it, so I settle with saying, “Yeah.” I reach for the plate of eggs while Dr. Wolf goes to close the door to give us privacy. I pick up the fork and have the first bite in my mouth before he sits at the foot of my bed, studying my every movement.

“While you eat, I would like to discuss the events of last night. Why did you go outside, Mabel? You know the wilderness is no place for a girl to be stumbling about alone, especially in the dark. You could have been seriously hurt, mauled by a bear.”

I’m quiet when I mumble, “I know.”

“What were you doing out there?”

“I went looking for Tristan.” When I say it, Dr. Wolf doesn’t seem shocked, like he already knew.

“Why?”

I stab another round of eggs with my fork. “My dad invited him to the table to eat pizza with us. My dad started talking about my mom, and—” I shrug. “—he needed some air, so he stepped out. When he did, Tristan…”

“Tristan what?”

“He showed me the scar on his arm. I mean, the name. I think he regretted it? Because when my dad came in, he ran out. By the time I said goodbye to my dad, Tristan was gone.”

Dr. Wolf watches me, his mouth drawn to a thin line. “And you thought you’d go after him. What I fail to understand is why you felt that need, why you thought it’d be a good idea to wander the woods in search of someone who clearly didn’t want to befound.” Up until that point, he always sounded detached and clinical when he talked to me, but something’s different about this.

It sounds like he’s really unhappy with me and my choices last night.

I go for the orange juice and take a tiny sip. “I just… I didn’t want him to regret showing me.”

“So you went after him in the dark.” To further hit the nail on the head, Dr. Wolf adds, “You went after a man with a violent past alone, in the dark, where anything could have happened. Did you not think that, perhaps, Tristan ran out there because he needed time alone, that he didn’t want to be found? What if you would have found him before he was ready, mmm?”

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