She lets the staff know she’s leaving for the afternoon and allows us to help her into Bram’s car. On the way, I call Bax and explain the situation. They arrive at the hospital moments after we do, thanking us before heading in with Cali, looking more than concerned.
Therest of the afternoon drags by in awful silence. I try to write but can’t focus. My phone stays clutched in my hand until, finally, it buzzes.
Bram, Dagan, and Jack’s heads all turn toward me. They’ve been keeping a quiet vigil, waiting with me.
“She’s fine,” I breathe, a huge weight lifting from my chest. “It was Braxton Hicks. Just fake contractions. Very normal, apparently.”
They all slump in visible relief.
“I still don’t understand why she was so resistant to going to the hospital. Better safe than sorry, right?” Bram asks.
I think about it for a moment. About how many times I’d almost gone to the hospital over the past week because of my asthma and Victor’s smoking, but my inhaler had ultimately pulled me through. About how I hadn’t wanted to be perceived as incapable or weak because of a medical condition.
“I get it,” I say at last. “She’s going through this whole health condition, but she still wants to live her life. Her alphas already treat her so differently because of it, in a good way. They do a lot for her, but it’s got to be frustrating.”
Bram nods, and it’s nice to feel understood. I get up from the couch and walk to him. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him in a comforting hug.
“You okay, Ghost?” he murmurs into my hair.
I nod, and he scent marks me.
“Just tired. I’m going to bed.”
He nods again, and I head upstairs, trying not to dwell on the day. I only hope sleep comes quickly tonight.
Dagan
Clarasleptinthismorning. She doesn’t have work today. Bram smiles when she comes in. Victor’s too engrossed in his computer to notice, but the rest of us look up.
They told us last night what they found at the library. Tragic.
“I wanted to discuss something with you all," Clara says and we all focus. Even Victor stops typing though he doesn't look at Clara. "I just… I keep getting these feelings, like I’m being watched. Then there's the alpha scent when I first got here. And I keep seeing this black shadow—like an alpha, but not.” She hesitates. “And I keep coming across the name Finian.”
She glances around. “I think—” She takes a deep breath. “I think he may be haunting this house.”
Victor’s face twists in disbelief. Despite what we’ve all experienced he’ll never admit to believing this. He’s a skeptic through and through. Jack looks stunned. But I remember the ghost in the mirror. Just as I’m about to sign something Bram speaks.
“Along with everything last night, I had an experience in the basement,” he says.
Before I can ask what kind of experience, Victor cuts in.
“Jesus Christ, are you insane? There’s no such thing as ghosts,” he snaps, shoving back from the table and grabbing his jacket. “There’s no such thing as boogeymen. Or Santa Claus.” He stops next to Clara, eyes sharp. “Or scent sensitivity.”
A growl rips from Bram and Jack, while I stand and flip him off.
Clara keeps her face composed, but I can tell it’s all a mask to hide what she’s really feeling from Victor. He stomps out, slamming the back door behind him.
“I’m going to have to do something about him,” Bram seethes.
“We should have done something long ago,” I sign in agreement.
“Please don’t.”
All our gazes swing to Clara, who just looks tired.
“He needs to be put in his place, Clara. He can’t talk to our omega that way,” Bram insists, stepping closer and curling a big hand around her waist.
“I know. I agree. But let me handle it—for now. Forcing him out, or excommunicating him, isn’t going to get us the ending we want. My omega hasn’t steered me wrong yet. She’s handling it.”