Page 9 of Crystal Iris
“Oh my God! I’m so glad to see you’re awake!”
I try to sit up, but Aaron gently urges me back down. “Easy. Just stay put.”
“Why am I here?” I manage to ask both of them. The room is unfamiliar, but the clothes strewn across the chair tell me I must be in Akira’s room. She always moved a lot. I hadn’t made it to this place yet. I was still studying the space when Aaron spoke again.
“I have to leave for Toronto tonight,” he says, his tone unreadable. “I’ll be gone a couple of days. I didn’t want to leave you alone. You need rest, and?—”
“What happened?” I interrupt, my voice sharp despite the fog in my brain.
“There was a fire in the apartment,” he says, his eyes shadowedwith concern. “Luckily, the building was built to handle it. The sprinklers must’ve kicked in fast, so nothing really burned—just a corner of the couch. I think you passed out from the smoke, though. Probably hit your head on the way down.”
Akira jumps in. “They found a candle.”
Memories flood back in fragments. I start to shake my head, denying it.
“No, no, it’s okay,” Aaron says quickly. “I know you wouldn’t burn the place down, Iris.”
He had no idea.Was all that real? I reach up to touch my head. Of course not. I had hit my head—it explains everything. It had to.
“Akira has been telling me all kinds of things about this necklace of yours. Should I be worried?”
I instinctively reach for my neck, panicked, searching for the necklace. I feel my fingers graze the chain. It’s still there.
They’re both watching me, waiting for something—waiting for me to say something.
“What?” I ask, my voice tight.
“I told you she can’t take it off,” Akira says, speaking to Aaron like I’m not even in the room.Were they talking about me behind my back?
“Of course I can,” I snap, my voice rising. “I just don’t want to. My mother gave it to me. You both have no idea what it’s like to not have a mother!” I’m yelling now, my frustration bubbling over.
Aaron’s expression softens, regret flashing in his eyes. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. I was so worried when they called me, Iris.”
I pull my hand away from his, my chest tight. “I want to go home.”
“They’re still going over the insurance policy,” Aaron says, his voice steady but concerned. “We can go back in a couple of days.”
“That place is not my home!” I don’t know why I said it, but the words sting. I can see the hurt in his eyes, and it makes my stomach churn. But I don’t take them back.
I’m alone in my half-packed apartment, surrounded by boxes, trying to figure out what to do next when my phone rings. Aaron again. My heart sinks. I didn’t handle things well yesterday. He left for Canada right after dropping me off here, and now I know I owe him an apology.
I’ve taken a sick day from work, though I definitely need more than just one day to sort through everything. I left Akira’s place without even saying thank you. I’m a mess.
I pick up my phone and text Akira:I’m sorry. You might be right. Is your offer to help with the necklace still standing?
We are on our way to Salem. I laughed out loud when Akira mentioned the healer she knew lived there. Shockingly, she wasn’t kidding. Apparently, the whole town was in need of “healing.” Whatever that meant.
I can’t help but think this is some kind of joke. I don’t really care because I’m not actually doing this to get rid of an evil spirit like Akira is making my case out to be—I’m doing it because I want my friend back, and if this is what it takes, fine. I’m not afraid; whatever the prism is, nothing or no one can stop it.
We arrived at the hotel with plans to meet the healer at seven. The drive here gave us a chance to catch up a little—talking about the wedding, work, but in the back of my mind, I know I’m hiding too much. I hate lying to Akira, but I have no idea how to explain everything. Whatever happened with the fire, whatever I saw that night, and whoever that man was—it’s still haunting me. Perhaps I do need the healer after all.
When Akira stepped out of the car to fill the tank, I pulled out my phone and texted Aaron:Decided to go on a girl’s trip withAkira;I think it will be good for me. Sorry for everything, we’ll talk when I get back.
We dropped our bags off at the hotel and headed out to grab a bite before our appointment. The quaint town is exactly how I imagined: cute little shops selling trinkets and souvenirs, begging tourists to buy into what they are known for: witches. Although the locals don’t seem to remember their own history. They all look too busy with their mundane lives to act any differently. I would have liked the town if something otherworldly wasn’t actually happening to me. It feels like the entire place is mocking me.
“So, how do you actually know this person?” I ask, squirting ketchup onto my fries, trying to distract myself from the unease creeping up my spine.
“I don’t,” Akira replies, her mouth full.
