Page 3 of Monsters
“I’m Benedict.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t ask what your name was. I asked who you were.”
He swallows. “Benedict Martin. My father is Auguste Martin.”
I see it then—the familiar smile. The eyes. My stomach churns and bile rises in my throat. How dare he—how dareheof all people taint my life further. Hadn’t his father done enough of that?
“Get the fuck out of my room,” I growl, baring my teeth.
“Evelyn—”
“I said, get out!” I scream, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. He ducks, and it misses his head, shattering a vase on the table beside the door. Emotions run through me easily now. One of the other girls told me it was because of the trauma. Our brains revert to processing things like children, and that means acting out like children, too.
“Okay,” he whispers, holding his hands up. His face is blank—no emotions are getting through that barrier. Must’ve learned how to keep everything in check from his monster of a father. “I’ll leave. Lily will bring your breakfast.” He turns to go, but his hand hovers over the door handle. I see him take a few steadying breaths, and confusion stirs through me as he turns back around. “I am nothing like him,” he adds, his face anguished. “Nothing.”
As he begins to close the door behind him, I call out, “I don’t ever want to fucking see you again.”
His face registers my words, and the shock rolls through him physically—literally, from his face, to his throat bobbing, to his torso muscles tightening, to his clenched fists.Good. Iwantto hurt him. If I could, I’d say more.Domore. But for now, this will suffice. I am exhausted. He stands taller, and the emotion and shock are gone completely. He stares at me for a second, like he’s trying to read my mind. Like he’s trying to pry the mask off my face while I claw to keep it on. My mask is my safeguard. My safety net. No one can remove it.
No one.
He leaves again, and this time, it’s Lily who brings me a tray of food.
She doesn’t mention Benedict. She doesn’t mention anything. She sets the tray on the bed in front of me and encourages me to eat despite the roiling nausea. I am physically ill.
Hisson.
How dare he sit in the chair, never giving me a moment alone.How dare he.It’s so presumptuous.
Lily and I don’t really speak. She watches me eat with her knees pulled into her chest. I can tell she’s in love with Salem. I can see it in her eyes. I can see the way they move around each other. A pang of envy works through me. While I suffered, she fell in love.
“He wants to help,” she whispers, gathering my mostly uneaten food and standing. “Just give him a chance. For me.” Bending down to kiss me on the forehead, she leaves, and I’m left staring at the chair for a few hours.
He doesn’t come back that day, but when I wake the next morning, he’s there. In fresh clothes. Clean shaven. And on my nightstand is a large bar of my favorite chocolate and a note.
I’m sorry.
That’s all it says.
I eat the chocolate in bed, one square at a time, and watch him as he sleeps.
Watching.
Always watching.
I
I Promise to Obey All Rules of the Library
Evelyn Snow
Oxford,Present
I’m not technically supposed to be in here. This section of the library is usually reserved for the doctorate students, and though I have access thanks to a friend, I know I’m on borrowed time. It doesn’t faze me—nothing really does these days. I’ll keep looking as long as I have to, breaking as many rules as I can until I find it. Until now, I’ve been unsuccessful, and being in Oxford’s oldest reading room seems like an obvious next step to find the answers I’m looking for.
I walk along the enormous stack of books back to the call desk, offering a quick smile to the librarian as he checks each of my books in. I’ve been scouring ancient texts for hours, to no avail.
Sometimes the answers don’t want to be found.
