Page 47 of A Curse On Black Lake
“Y’all haven’t given me that information either. But, I’m assuming it’s much more than the woman he found.”
We are told it has everything to do with that.
“Then why can’t you tell me what happened?” I ask them.
The tightness in my chest grows, and my stomach hardens. I’ve never had to explain myself like this, and I hate to admit it, but part of me is afraid he’s going to laugh me off. I’ve finally made a friend, and I don’t want to lose that, even if it means not telling him about a crucial part of myself.
We are not omnipotent, or all-knowing. We know that the death of the woman, and many others, is a part of this. We have been told that the curse over this land will come to light through both of you. But only together.
“What the hell? Curse? What are you talking about?”
That is all we know.
“And I’m supposed to say all of that to Killian?”
Yes.
“Dammit,” I grumble and head up the hill to the house. There’s no reason for me to wait anymore. I’ll either lose my only friend or whatevertheyare talking about will come to fruition.
We know this is difficult for you. But your place in this plan, your gift, could save many.
“As much as I can’t stand people, I have to admit that’s convincing.”
Chapter seventeen
Eliana
Thesunhasbegunto slide behind the horizon when Killian walks up the hill. I’ve been sitting in the rocking chair working through how I'm going to ease him into this. Any semblance of hunger I did have is long gone. My stomach is too twisted up in knots, and my chest feels like it’s being trampled with anxiety. But I know they’re right. Telling him matters because it’s part of the larger tapestry that I’ve only seen a corner of.
“Hungry?” he asks, taking off his hat.
“Not really,” I mumble.
“You okay?” he asks.
I lift a shoulder and fake a smile, standing from my rocking chair. “I’m sure you have something in there for a sandwich.”
He doesn’t answer because he’s gracing me with his trademark scowl. “You know, I used to be the law. I know when someone is afraid, Eliana.” He takes a step closer and my heart leaps as he reaches for me, but drops his hand. “What are you afraid of?”
I meet his eyes and start to blurt it all out, then he says, “It’s not me, is it?”
“No, absolutely not. It’s more … your response.”
“What do you know, Eliana?” he asks.
I force my mouth into a smile and run my hands through my hair nervously. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“And now we’re blatantly avoiding the question,” he mutters.
“I’m a give it to me straight kind of guy, Eliana. Tell me what you’ve been waiting to say.”
I take a deep breath, look him in the eye, and start from the beginning. “When I was ten years old, I had … let’s call it a seizure. I was at school. I’m sure you heard the rumors.”
He sits down in a rocking chair. “I heard about what happened, but I never knew if any of it was true,” he says.
“I’m sure the stories were wild. But I had a seizure, and no, it doesn’t make any logical or medical sense, but it happened. My brown hair turned white,” I say, twirling it around my finger. “And my brown eyes turned blue, but they turn almost grey sometimes with my shifting mood. It’s weird.”
“I’m sure that was terrifying,” he says.
