Page 82 of The Curse of Indy Moore
Thedayaftertheshocking reveal about Miss Beamy, Carline paid a visit. She sought weakness like disease sought wounds. She greeted me upon waking from the eve I could never remember. She sat, carrying the presence of an old friend visiting to gossip over pleasant childhood tales. Her smile wove her words long before she spoke them, “You seem tense, my dear. What troubles you?”
Sun cut across the room, falling upon the door’s handle. No one was there, as there hadn’t been for the last few days. The artificers spent their time trying to save me. I stood and went for the door, hands wrapped tightly around the chewed blanket that did nothing to shield me from Carline’s scrutiny.
“You dream as a wolf. Did you know that?”
My hand hesitated on the knob, gripped so tightly that my knuckles ached.
“Poor Miss Beamy: a cat long dead, forced to continue on because of a childish man. The same man claiming he can help you, but he didn’t help her much, didhe? You’re another soul he cannot truly save because none of us can ever escape the inevitable.”
I threw open the door to grab the clothes waiting in the hall. Carline didn’t follow me to my room, much to my relief, as it had become a sanctuary. One place in the house that had started to feel like my own, where Miss Beamy waited curled up on the bed. She purred when I scratched under her chin, sleeping away, blissfully unaware that Carline used her against me.
I agreed with Carline there. No one could escape the inevitable. Even if Mr. Hawthorne clung to Miss Beamy, she would fade more and more. I understood why he was so attached. By taking care of her, he had a piece of his brother around, too. But Miss Beamy wasn’t another item for Mr. Hawthorne to stash in Ivory House. She was a living, breathing being in pain.
After getting dressed, I wrote about what Carline said, intending to share it with Otis. The professor couldn’t know because I wouldn’t risk what she may do to Miss Beamy and Mr. Hawthorne. Then I went to the kitchen to cook a quick breakfast for three and a half. Slate joined me on the windowsill, swaying to a song I hummed. He ate the crumbs I tossed his way before departing. The crow hadn’t spent as much time around Mr. Hawthorne the last week or so. I wondered if he had built another nest on the island full of trinkets—perhaps our own that he didn’t want us to retrieve.
With breakfast on a tray, I went to the office. Mr. Hawthorne sat in the reading nook at the back of the room, his hooked nose stuck in a book. Professor Kumir and Otis had the desk, half-buried under their research.
“Good morning,” I said to Otis, who offered me the same.
I greeted the professor, too, when I felt a gaze on my side. Upon facing the windows, Mr. Hawthorne had already looked away. If he expected a greeting, he would be disappointed. If he was hungry, he would be even more disappointed.
I set a plate in front of Professor Kumir and Otis, who had a note of my interaction with Carline stuck under his plate. The two of them shared a confused look prior to Otis thanking me for breakfast. Professor Kumir, however, glared atMr. Hawthorne. My chest warmed slightly at the implication of her perceiving him as the troublemaker.
I held the tray to my chest, smiling amicably. “Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll be back around lunch.”
“You won’t be joining us?” Otis asked.
“I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”
Mr. Hawthorne coughed and sank lower in the reading nook.
“Foolish boy,” the professor chuckled.
I left the three of them in silence to mind my business elsewhere. He didn’t want me in the office, and I considered staying there out of spite, but they were working. The last thing I wanted to do was cause issues for all of them. One wrong move and my soul would be Carline’s forever.
I chose to eat alone in the kitchen, where Slate kept me company. The crow devoured any crumbs that dared to tumble off my plate and pecked at my hair once. Deeming that hair treasure, he flew off to stash it who knew where while I got to cleaning.
The kitchen kept itself relatively clean without my help, but I needed to keep my mind occupied. I was considering boxing up some of Mr. Hawthorne’s junk to sell in Eldari to be annoying when Otis knocked on the kitchen threshold. He had his and the professor’s dirty plates.
Otis meandered to the sink. “You look like you are about to start trouble.”
I faced him and leaned against the counter. “What items would be the easiest to sell and anger Mr. Hawthorne the most?”
Laughing, he took to scrubbing the dishes. “I thought I sensed trouble between the two of you earlier. What happened?”
I crossed my arms, where one finger tapped against my bicep. “I know about Miss Beamy.”
A plate slipped from his fingers. He retrieved the plate intact and finished washing both off, then he settled at the island. “I see. You said something to Rooke, then?”
“How could I not?” I dropped into the chair across from him, arms still crossed. “You have, too. Miss Beamy said you have lectured him enough.”
“More times than I can count.”
“He’s hurting her. She’s suffering. It’s illegal. It’s… There will be consequences for her. There already are. She’s…” Wasting away, little by little. “He could be arrested,” I finished through clenched teeth.
“He is well aware of that.”
“Why haven’t you done anything?”
