Page 1 of Lumi
PROLOGUE
Damian O’Rourke
Lumi
The deep male voice from downstairs alerted me that he was here. Damian O’Rourke, the man who had thrown himself in front of me two weeks ago and saved my life.
He was here to see me. Liv had told me that he wanted to make sure that I was all right.
As if I would ever be all right after what happened that night. Twenty-eight people had died. To the public, it was scary headlines in newspapers and pictures of the victims who were brainwashed by Conor O’Brien to kill themselves.
But to those of us who survived, the people who died were so much more than those black and white headshots in the papers. We had vivid memories of their different laughs, walks, smiles, and personalities. Ciara, who had loved to spoil us all with her home-cooked food and who would play cards with us children. And Estelle, who went overboard decorating the house for Easter and Christmas, and who loved gardening. In the summer, she would bring flowers into the home, spreading beauty and joy. I would never forget the Portuguese twins, Maya and Isabel, who had given us all a dance lesson in flamenco that had resulted in more laughter than dancing. Nor would I forget Carlos, a flamboyant cross-dresser who was a science professor and made learning fun.
I would never recover from their all dying at once.
And the worst part, was watching my mother killed in front of me. Just thinking about it made me tear up, so I pushed the thought away and forced my eyes to focus on the book in my hands. I had always loved reading for pleasure, but these past weeks, it had become my escape.
Footsteps on the stairs made my pulse pick up, but they were too light to be Damian’s. I’d only met him the night he carried me out of the Red Manor, but he was tall and well-muscled, which meant that his steps would be heavier.
A knock on my door made me lower the book and look up to see Liv poke her head inside.
“Hey, sweetheart. Damian and Kit are here. Do you want to come downstairs and say hi?”
I was sitting on my bed and sank deeper while pulling my book to my chest. My room was my safe zone, and I didn’t feel like leaving it to talk about what had happened. Charles and Liv were already forcing me to speak to a therapist twice a week.
Liv came inside and sat on my bed. She touched my leg and knitted her brows together. “I know it’s hard. Trust me, if I had a magic wand, I would bring your mother back in a flash.”
“What am I supposed to say to him? I don’t know him,” I muttered.
“Damian is the nicest person you’ll ever meet. I’ve never saved someone’s life, but I imagine that I would feel a sense of connection to that person if I did. Maybe that’s why he’s been asking to see you.”
I shrugged.
“Don’t you want to thank him, at least?”
Biting down on my lip, I made a sound that wasn’t quite a word.
“Was that a yes or no?” Liv asked in her American accent.
I shrugged again. “I don’t want to go downstairs.”
“Okay.” Her hand on my leg squeezed a little. “If you prefer to stay in your room, I could tell Damian to come up here.”
I looked around. “It’s messy.”
Liv smiled. “He won’t mind. Kit and Damian know that we just moved in.” She stood up. “Maybe later today, I could help you unpack the boxes if you want.”
“No, I’ll do it when I’m ready.” I had tried unpacking one of the boxes, but each item brought up memories of my mom. I could remember shopping with her for each piece of clothing that I had. The conversations on size and fit, and Mom pushing me to get the yellow silk shirt because she loved that color on me. The bookSeven Years in Tibethad been in the box. It had a stain on the cover from when I knocked over a blue candle on top of it. Mom had been upset with me because that book was one of the few things she had from her childhood. I had promised to be more careful, and we’d ended up reading a chapter in the book together and discussing it like we always did, with our feet touching under the Harry Potter blanket that she got me for Christmas when I was eleven. Memories of my childish joy, when I unwrapped my present and saw that she had bought the Ravenclaw one, had made me hug her so tight that she laughed and told me I was strangling her. Yesterday, when I found the Ravenclaw blanket in the box, it had made me sob with grief. I’d known that even though I was seventeen and had moved past Harry Potter, I would treasure that blanket for the rest of my life. My hand touched it as my heart began beating faster at the sound of heavy steps coming up the stairs and moving down the hallway outside my room.
Liv had left my door ajar, and sitting up against my headboard, I waited for Damian to enter.
His large frame filled my doorway as he tapped a knuckle on the door. “May I come in?”
“Yes.” I pushed my long black hair behind my shoulders and watched him step inside.
There was no chair for him to sit on, so I pulled my knees up and nodded to the end of my bed.
“Hi, Lumi.” My bed dipped as Damian sat down.
