Page 19 of Origins
So I had to think of something awful. A topic that would make a male flee in terror. Something that would guarantee that Finn would have zero interest in being anywhere near me today.
“I—” my mental resources screamed out ideas, but nothing brilliant came to me. Lacking anything else, my mouth blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’m doing a research paper on how placenta usage in gardening may or may not be nourishing to the soil.”
Finn’s mouth was opened in shock, and my face burned. But I couldn’t stop now. “I have a theory that if you grind up the pla—”
“Stop!” Finn’s complexion was slightly green as he watched me in horror. “That’s great for you, but I really don’t need to know anymore. Please.”
Crude, but effective. It had worked.
I tried to smile at him as I drove the rest of my point home. “I could still sit with you, if you want. I just think that you’d find it gross. I might have to interview the librarian, since they know a lot. Today I was also going to touch on the topic of using a women’s menstra—”
“Just,please, stop talking about this. This whole thing. Stop.” Finn had buried his head under his arms now. “It’s alright. Just do your research far, far away from me.”
“Oh.” I pretended to look sad. How would he act when we got married and he had to deal with this fact of life? “If you insist.”
“I insist.” Finn stood up and gathered his laptop. “The library’s open, by the way. Are we still on for tonight?” He grinned at me again. “It’s not the same without you.”
Tonight? Well, I did have a ghost to bond with. But I could spare an hour or two. “Sure.”
Ms. McKinnen had the weekend off, so the bulk of my research would have to wait. I had awkwardly asked the volunteer at the desk, but she had been no help. Besides, I didn’t want to make too big of a deal about my search. I didn’t want Professor Hamway to hear of any weird tales about me when she returned.
So research on sensitives, mediums and the like had become my agenda for the day.
I moseyed around the library before I found a private cubicle near the cultural reference section, and set up base there. Thanks to the prestige of our anthropology and psychology departments, we had an impressive collection of paranormal reading material available.
Unfortunately, hours flew by and the only certain thing that I had gained from my reading was a cold mocha latte and even more confusion about the subject matter than when I had begun.
The texts were all theoretical, and information varied based on culture and topic. So, in the end, none of the research had been helpful in gaining a broader understanding of myself.
Damen probably knew the answers to my questions. However, I had dramatically burned that bridge yesterday. But not knowing—and knowing that theydidknow—was making it hard to resist the urge to try again. Even if Titus was Mafia, would Damen really let him kill me?
I doodled on the edge of my paper, sighing. I wasn’t ready to be brave yet. I should exhaust all other avenues of information first. Because, more than the fear for my life, it would bereallyembarrassing to see them again.
But in the end, was my pride and fear worth more than answers?
First I should check the library in town, and then evaluate my options.
“Are you Miss Brosnan?”
I jumped, almost snapping my pencil in two, as I spun in my seat to see who had called me.
I saw an elderly woman a few feet away, wringing her hands. She wore a floral print dress, complete with an old-lady sweater and dark tights. Her white hair was pinned back into a grandmotherly bun, but the style did nothing to tame the flyaways that surrounded her face. She was a tiny woman, almost as small as me, but her eyes were sharp beneath her gold rimmed glasses.
She was probably here to chastise me for sneaking in a beverage, which was technically not allowed.
“I’m so sorry!” I apologized, grabbing my cup as I shot to my feet. “I’ll get rid of it right now.”
“What?” She seemed confused before she spotted the white container in my hand. “Oh, no dear. I don’t care about that.”
I paused. NowIwas confused. Why would someone be looking for me in the library? Who was she?
“I heard that you were searching for information on Professor Hamway’s home,” she said, surprising me. “I grew up in this town. So I know a lot of the city gossip.”
“Oh,” I stood for a moment, unsure of what to say. I hadn’t been expecting to talk here. Plus, she was old and frail-looking. I should offer her a seat, but these weren’t the best chairs. “Um…”
She chuckled before tilting her head. “Come along, dear.” She turned and began to slowly hobble away, leaning heavily on her cane.
Now I felt even worse. She had searched the library for me?
