Page 12 of One Last Touch

Tension bracketed his shoulders, creeping up through his spine and I watched him tighten like a string pulled taut with no short amount of satisfaction.

“That would be an unwise thing to do.” His voice was soft and he kept his back to me so I couldn’t even try to figure out what he was feeling.

“Then explain it to me. I need to know. Are—Are they holding you and Ms Weathers hostage?”

His shoulders shook and for a moment I thought he was sobbing until I heard his quiet laugh. It cut-off abruptly and I took a hesitant step forward as he shook his head. “Just stay out of it, Georgina.”

“I—” Before I could say another word, he stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him so that I was plunged abruptly into darkness once more. “Fuck you too.”

Did he really think I was just going to get back into my bed, pull the covers up, and do as I was told like a good little girl?

I smiled grimly as I pushed open the closet door and followed him out to find only the empty corridor waiting. I pivoted on my heel and followed the beams of moonlight spilling in from another window, turned the corner where the fireplace nook sat on the landing, and paused outside of the large doors situated half-way down the red runners. The master suite.

I didn’t stop to consider whether this was ‘unwise’ or to think about any possible danger, this was my house. Alswell was in my blood and I wasn’t going to let it, or its inhabitants, become fodder for some night prowler.

I twisted the brass doorknob in my hand, it was as frighteningly cold as so many other things in this house and I found myself surprised that it wasn’t coated in a layer of frost. The door swung inward smoothly, without so much as a squeak. Somebody had to have oiled the hinges recently, then. Was this where my mother had stayed when she’d lived here so many years ago? Had she come back to this room and found she could not bear the way the past pressed in on her and instead escaped to what was now my room? Leaving nothing of herself behind but her soap, small glimpses of her, the last remnants of her soul in existence caught up in fragrance and habit.

The suite reeked of dust, so it wasn’t in use despite the door’s recent oil, and the curtains were thrown wide, letting in the light of the stars. The bed was unmade, like it’d been frozen in time and never corrected. A tea cup sat delicately perched on a small nightstand, covered in a grey film that made my belly swoop as I took a cautious step closer. Books cluttered every available surface, odd bookmarks stuck in at seemingly random places—a feather in one, a piece of ribbon in another, one was even being held apart by an acorn, the pages spread on either side and I felt dizzy when I saw the identical passage to the book that lay open in my own room.

These were not my mother’s belongings. She wouldn’t have bothered with a haphazard bookmark. No, looking around the room the presence here seemed far more in tune with… me.

But it was empty. There was no sign, no sense of anyone watching, that indicated that this was the place the person from the halls had come. But I’d been so sure, wrongfully so.

It was starting to feel like whatever was going on here might be beyond me. If there really was someone else here and Sage and Ms Weathers knew about it, then I couldn’t count on them as allies. If they wouldn’t tell me the truth, I would just have to discover it myself.

Chapter Seven

By the time I’d gotten into bed last night, it had been well into the early hours of the morning. I’d stalked back down the stairs, lit a candle in my room, and paced up and down in front of my bed for at least an hour while the wind and rain raged on. In the end, I’d only climbed into bed because of the cold that had started to seep into my bones. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep, knowing that there might be someone else in this house other than me, Sage, and Ms Weathers, but clearly my mind had been just as exhausted as my body because I’d dozed off almost immediately.

But now that I was awake, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Had last night all just been a bad dream? Those footsteps, if they were even real and not some odd echo of the storm created by the house, had definitely retreated into the master suite. I would have staked my life on it. There was only one way in and one way out, so whoever had entered should have still been there. But it was empty. Unless there was a hidden exit, camouflaged like the closet. I considered the thought for a moment and decided it was worth exploring. If there were secret passages in Alswell, not only would it be undeniably cool but I would also need to check them out. This stranger could be using them to travel around unseen, it was the only logical explanation for it.

“Are you going to lie in bed all day?”

I shrieked, my head jolting sharply down from where I’d been gazing up at the wooden beams in the ceiling to find Sage reclining on the end of my bed as if he owned the place.

“What are you doing in here?” I threw a pillow at him and he caught it, placing it behind his back as he leaned against one of the wooden poles. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”

“I did,” he said, blinking innocently as I narrowed my eyes at him. I looked at the door—closed. There was no way I wouldn’t have heard it open with the way it creaked. Was I right about the possible passage ways? Did Sage know about them too and had used one to get in my room? “I can literally see the wheels turning behind your eyes right now and I feel like it spells trouble.”

I said nothing, simply waiting him out as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.

“Looks like the storm passed, it’s a rotten day out though.”

So he’d come in here to talk about the weather? I scoffed. “Why are you here?”

“Well, I know it’s nearly mid-day but I think it’s still a bit too early for such philosophical discussions. We should wait until you’re appropriately dressed.”

My lip twitched. “I don’t think you can really come into my room and dictate to me what is or isn’t appropriate.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, his eyes scanning the room and noting the small changes I’d made after being here the past few days. It had almost been a week since I’d arrived at Alswell but in some ways it felt like I’d been here forever. I’d added a small rug to the wooden floor next to my bed and my thick socks were placed on it, so I wouldn’t have to walk on the cold floor as soon as I got out of bed. I’d moved all the long, practical candles out of the way into the corner of the room and the dresser and instead placed scented candles on the desk and my nightstand.

“What are you reading?” He nodded towards the pile of books and I glanced over and froze as I saw the open book was now shut. Was I going mad? I could have sworn it’d been open. I picked it up and inspected it closely for a second, even the familiar smell of dusty pages unable to soothe me. Was this some side effect of all the stress and grief I’d been dealing with lately? Because while it was understandable, I didn’t like the thought of not even knowing myself, not being able to trust in what my eyes were showing me… and last night’s escapades hadn’t helped with that.

“Are we really going to pretend like last night didn’t happen?”

Sage looked directly at me, his hazel eyes back to a more ordinary brown as he stretched his long legs out on the other side of me. “I already told you, the storm—”

“Not the storm,” I growled as I sat up to look at him. “The closet, the footsteps.”

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