Page 65 of House of Roots and Ruin
Or…
Could it be even easier to explain away?
None of the things had happened to me. Not ghosts, not gods, because it was all in my head. Something within me was broken and twisted and wrong.
Was I mad?
I didn’t feel like I was.
And wasn’t the fact that I was even entertaining this line of thought, carefully rationed out and logically presented, evidence that I was not?
Camille had put that poisonous thought within me, instilling me with fear and doubt, a sharp burr intended to forever poke atme, ruining any chance I might have at a normal life away from her and Highmoor.
With sudden resolve, I threw on my robe and crossed to thelittle writing desk where another unfinished letter to Camille still waited. I seized the paper and began to rip it in two pieces, then four, then eight, methodically destroying the last of my guilt in leaving as I had. I had no need to apologize. I’d done nothing wrong.
When the paper was nothing but bits of confetti, too mangled to ever repair, I tossed it into the waste bin and sat back in the chair, only now noticing the late hour.
Twilight had washed over the world, painting the sky a rosy lavender. A scattering of stars twinkled brightly and an enormous crescent moon hung just above the tree line, looking wistful and dreamy.
I took a deep breath, grounding myself in the moment. This was where I wanted to be. Not back at Highmoor, forever under my sister’s thumb, always wanting things beyond my reach.
I wanted to be here. To stay here. With Alex.
As if bidden by my thoughts, a soft knock rapped on the door.
“Come in,” I called out from the chair, and brightened when I saw him.
“Stay there, stay there,” Alex said as I struggled to stand. He rolled over to me instead, cupping his hands on my cheeks with concern as he assessed me. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner. I only just woke and heard what happened. Are you all right?”
His hands felt warm on my forehead as he checked my temperature and I pulled them away, tangling our fingers together. “Areyouall right?”
He seemed slightly off-color and there were circles under his eyes dark enough to look like bruises. He was dressed in his pajamas, a plush emerald robe tied about him, and his hair wasrumpled from sleep. I could picture exactly what he must have looked like as a little boy.
Alex nodded. “The pains are gone now. Father’s tinctures always help to ease them away but I’m so sorry you heard all—”
“Stop,” I interrupted. “You don’t need to apologize for that, for any of that. I was so concerned for you.”
“Then I’m sorry forthat,” he insisted. “I feel terrible. I should have told you about the fits, but I haven’t had one in so long, I’d hoped that they were somehow over. I hate that I worried you.”
“Did something happen to trigger it?” Our afternoon picnics, our adventures about the estate. Was he pushing himself too much for my sake?
“I don’t think so. They usually come and go without rhyme or reason. This one was…particularly bad, but it’s over now.”
The pads of my thumbs traced the bumps of his knuckles. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. You should be resting.”
His grip tightened, as if afraid I was about to send him away. “I had to come see you. When Father said what happened, I could hardly see straight.” His voice cracked. “I raced over as fast as I could. I just kept imagining the worst and…I can’t believe he could have done something so dangerous. So stupid.” He pushed the back of his hand over his eyes. “That garden needs to be destroyed.”
“Alex—”
“It does,” he insisted. “What if you’d touched a different plant? What if I had lost you? Verity. I…I couldn’t…” He pressed his forehead to mine as his words failed, pulling me into a close embrace around the chair.
I closed my eyes, leaning into his arms. In them I felt safe.It was impossible to think of ghosts or wraiths. It was only Alex. Only us.
“Your hair,” he murmured, his fingers slipping over the dark tangles.
“It’s still wet, I’m sorry,” I said, pulling away, certain the long strands had soaked him.
But he was smiling. “I’ve never seen it down before. It’s so long. So beautiful.” He cleared his throat as if embarrassed by his admission. “Youare so beautiful.”
