Page 79 of The Toymaker's Son

But I did, and that love was Valentine.

The boy I’d kissed by the weeping angel. The boy to whom I’d gifted my heart, only for him to snatch it up and crush it in his hands. The boy who had left, taking all the color in the world with him.

I’d hated him.

The memories tumbled, forgotten truths from the countless moments I’d lived and relived, each time desperate for a different outcome, desperate for love, and each time my heart had been broken. Around and around like the hands on a clockface, destined to relive my fate over and over, seeking a different outcome, seeking a love I’d had cruelly thrown at my feet so long ago.

“Devere, give me the globe.” Fear cracked Adair’s voice.

I swayed, or the room did. The fire roared in its grate. The candles flickered, threatening to snuff out.

I’d… forgotten…

I’d made myself forget. I’d forgotten who I was, and what I’d done to Val, to myself. I’d hated Valentine, hated what he’d done to me, so I’d made it so he would forever dance at the ends ofmystrings.

Adair wasn’t the puppet master.

I was.

The globe creaked in my grip.

“No!” Adair cried.

The snow globe shattered, the house windows imploded, and darkness rushed in.

ChapterThirty

Valentine

I woke from darkness into burning light.

I couldn’t move.

Someone held me down. They had hold of my ankles, my arms.

I heard my own voice begging, “Let me go. Let me go.” But it was distant, detached, as though I were a passenger in my life, watching events unfold. The glaring light faded, pulling back like the tide, and the world the receding waters left behind was not the one I knew. Rows of iron beds filled a room made of high white walls.

I blinked, but the beds stayed, and nothing changed.

I lay on a bed like those, but nobody held me down. Straps bound my wrists and ankles.

I wore… a stained gown. My feet were bare.

What new nightmare was this?

I yanked at the straps…

“What is this!”

I tugged, jerked, thrashed until my whole body burned, and my teeth ached, and the scream I’d unleashed finally faded. I fell back, wet with sweat and panting. This wasn’t real. Another dream, another illusion.

“Oh dear, Val. This was a bad one.” A woman approached my bed. Her hair was wrapped in a tight bun atop her head, topped with a nurse hat. She wore a blue and white gown.

I’d seen her before, but not dressed like that. She reached toward me while at the same time taking a small watch from her top pocket. Memories swirled, slipping close then away again, but I knew her… Minerva’s undertaker, Miss Couper.

“Where am I?” I croaked.

She spared me a sympathetic look and pressed two fingers to the pulse at my right wrist, just below the strap. “The same place you are every day, dear.” She watched her little pocket watch again, timing my heartbeats.

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