Page 63 of Starve
“He took her,” she goes on, like I haven’t tried to stop her. She leans over me, one hand on the armrest and her other on mine to keep me in place. “He took her andkept heruntil she was starving. But she wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t. I found her when she was dying, with a broken hip and having not eaten in days. She told me she wasstarving,”the therapist whispers, too close to my face. “But when she wouldn’t join him, he left her there to die. Now tell me, Fern.” Her gaze holds mine, angry and fevered.
“What makes you think it’ll go any better for you?”
“Because I know what I’m doing, and I know what he is.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and Dr. Radley jerks upright, her look morphing to confident pleasure at the confirmation.
Fuck.
I walked right into that, and now all I can do is kick myself for not realizing where her words were leading.
“Oh, you do?” she challenges, and moves to put the photo back on the wall with meticulous care so it lines up perfectly.“Do you think Mikaela didn’t? Do you think a monster can ever love you unselfishly? Or is he just looking for an end to his own loneliness? I don’t think they’re made to be alone. They’re always hunting, always hoping. But you’ve heard them mimic human voices with their throats. You’ve seen the way they can look like us. But has it ever occurred to you…?” she trails off and walks back to lean against her desk, gazing once more out the window.
“What if he’s also mimicking your affection for him? Who’s to say it stops at voices and looks? My sister was a lot like you, Fern. Stubborn, independent. Anxious.” She eyes me and I look away at the accusation. “Always needing approval and reassurance. She needed someone to tell her it was alright. Is that what he does for you? Does he keep you in the dark, only showing you what he wants? Does he disappear when it’s no longer convenient for him and give you just enough to keep you interested? Tell me.”
Again she gazes out the window, and I struggle to find an answer for her, thinking she’s done.
“He told you he’s the one who saved you that night, didn’t he? But if he was really interested in your wellbeing, wouldn’t he have warned you in the first place?”
The question hits something raw and sharp in me. A weakness I didn’t know I had until right now. All of a sudden, my doubts unleash themselves, and I struggle to my feet across from her in the room, though I don’t say a word. This time, she doesn’t push me.
She doesn’t need to.
Dr. Radley has finally found the thing to shake me to my core, to open up Pandora’s Box of doubts about Cairo’s intentions. But that was her intention all along, I try to remind myself. She’s not doing thisfor me.She’s doing this to confirm what she already knows. I have to keep telling myself that,otherwise I’m going to do something stupid like fall apart in her office and tell her all the things she’s looking for.
I won’t be the one to do that to Cairo. Or Agatha.
Or even Hattie.
“I’m sorry about your sister.” My words come out measured and soft. I pick up my styrofoam cup, shaking the liquid around inside with nervous, jerky movements. My heart is racing just as if I’ve run a mile from one of the cursed, and my adrenaline is going the same way. This woman is dangerous, and I shouldn’t spend a second longer here than I have to. “And I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me through what happened that night. It really urged me to come a long way.”
She doesn’t respond or even look at me. She doesn’t need to, and that frustrates me more than it should.
“Goodbye, Dr. Radley.” My words are full of finality and forced calm, but when I get to the door, she finally speaks again.
“They’re starving, Fern.” Defeat laces her voice, and when I glance at her, she’s still watching the storm. “But don’t mistake that as a hunger just for food. He’ll do anything to get you to join him, to sate his hunger.” Finally she turns, meeting my gaze with flat, tired resentment. “Even kill you.”
I don’t say a word. There’s nothing to say to her, really. But I hold her gaze, studying the look there, before turning and fleeing. Allowing the heavy door to slam behind me as thunder rumbles closer outside, a herald of the impending storm.
Chapter 25
While I haven’t seenCairo in a few days, I figure that’ll probably change soon. Maybe.
Hopefully.
But my day can’t get worse, I tell myself, so I grab Moro’s leash and jog through the drizzle of rain back to my car. The wolf dog doesn’t mind one bit. She happily trots along and jumps into the backseat, ready to go for an adventure.
Though today’s adventure is a lot less exciting than the one we had last week. The night we went to Bluebone Ridge to search the place for any clues and eventually went hunting for Cairo after his fight.
Yeah, I’m definitely not looking for that kind of adventure today, I assure myself, and just head to the park. Considering the drizzle doesn’t really bother me, it just means the park is empty of anyone in Whippoorwill Gap who doesn’t want to deal with the weather when they could be literally anywhere else.
Which today ends up being everyone, to my surprise. I forgo the leash, letting Moro out of the back of the car for her to run in happy circles around me with her tail up and curled over her back. She never goes far from me, even after she’s done her business in the wet grass while I wait with my hood drawnup over my head. It’s not cold enough for more than leggings, though the rain soaks through to my skin after a few minutes, giving me a bit of a chill.
Still, I’d rather be out here than at home worrying. My anxiety is there, waiting to get the rest of me, and on the way home from Dr. Radley’s, I felt the signs of dissociation gently tugging at my consciousness.
Cairo could help,I think, but I immediately shove that thought away, guilty. I shouldn’t be. It’s not like I’ve done anything to feel guilty about, and he didn’t do anything wrong to me. He hasn’t tried to make me like him. He hasn’t broken my bones in the woods to force me to eat human flesh.
He’s not like the boy Dr. Radley’s sister knew.
Yet somehow, I can’t get the story, or the anxious feelings, out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about them. I can’t help wondering if she was like me. If her cursed was just as charming as mine.
