Page 86 of Wolfsbane Hall
He was her betrayer. Her Judas, her Brutus. He’d been her best friend, her rock, her firm foundation. He was the one who truly knew her. The one who talked to her every night before bed like a lover…like a true partner.
And he had destroyed it all.
He had destroyedher.
It hurt so fucking much, but she didn’t even get a moment to grieve or process the pain and what it all meant, because a sharp scream pierced through her devastation.
A scream that traveled up from below.
Something dreadful had happened downstairs.
28
Saturday, November 11, 1939
The Green Room
Celestine’s worst nightmare was laid out before her. Frances’s lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling of the Green Room, Babette cradling her body and howling. “No, no, no, not you. Not you.” The scream was raw, guttural, and hysterical.
The brunette rocked back and forth, back and forth, her eyes glazed over and hollow and her hair falling messily over her shoulders, all the while never stopping her haunting whispers of, “No.”
As she watched the scene unfold, the heartbreak tore through Celestine’s chest, too, but she had no tears left, and the fact that she couldn’t get herself to loose even a single drop for the woman who had been her mother figure for nine years broke her even more.
Who couldn’t shed tears for the ones they loved?
Celestine’s nostrils flared, and her jaw grew tight and tender.
Even Babette could manage it, and she wasn’t nearly as close with Frances. In fact, it was news that the brunette even cared this much for the older woman. Celestine honestly didn’t know Babette could care about anyone.
Had Celestine missed it? Had she been too focused on herself and the Specter to see the other girl?
Babette wouldn’t want anyone to see her acting this way. The girl was formed of dissociation and distance, not wanting to get close to anyone. And she certainly wouldn’t want anyone to witness this level of pain.
Celestine walked to the door, shut it quietly, and then returned to Babette, kneeling beside her. She stretched out her hands to the floor and spoke with Wolfbane inside her head, asking the house to bar anyone else from entering the room and hearing Babette’s anguish.
“Not you.” Babette’s eyes twitched to Celestine’s and flared. “Of course, it couldn’t have been you instead. You should have died first.”
Celestine smiled sadly. “I know. I always thought I would be the first to die among us, too.”
Babette scoffed and gently tucked Frances’s hair behind her ears. “You’re like a cockroach. Impossible to kill.”
“I guess I could be a cockroach. I can scurry very quickly, and I do have an oval face, but I don’t really have the hair for it. I am not a redhead. Although I don’t know if you could call their shells hair, ya know?”
Babette tried to suppress an amused laugh. She hated that she found anything Celestine said amusing.
“Is there anything I can do?” Celestine asked.
“Why are you always so nice to me?” Babette visibly swallowed. “It’s so irritating. Always so good, so perfect. Never anything out of place. It’s obnoxious.”
Celestine sucked her lower lip into her mouth, chewing on it as she thought. “It’s because I pick people who will never love me back… It’s a character flaw. I guess I am just used to being treated poorly.”
“Me, too. I pick terribly.” Babette’s eyes locked with Celestine’s, and there was a heavy weight in them. The weight of all the stars in the universe. The weight of the universe.
A shattered silence descended in the space between them. The air was cold and thick. Confusion licked at Celestine’s core. She’d never had a positive moment with Babette, never able to find common ground or respect between them before, but it felt like there was a shift in the air—like they might be able to change their future. Possibly even be friends or, at the very least, friendly.
“So, she guessed who the Specter was and got it wrong?” Celestine asked, her eyes falling back to the cold, broken, lifeless body of her friend.
“Yes.” Babette’s voice was hollow.
