Page 3 of Shadows of Nightshade
“Bianca.” He watched me with renewed wariness. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m doing what I should.” I choked. Why couldn’t he just trust me? “That has nothing to do with anything.”
I needed to leave. I’d rather face an angry spirit alone than deal with this patronization.
I gathered my notebooks and shoved them into my backpack. “I’ll just bother someone who wants to hear what I have to say.”
As I turned to leave, Finn stopped me. “Where are you going to go, Bianca? You don’t talk to people.”
My stomach dropped, and I glanced back at him over my shoulder. He hadn’t moved from his seat, but his eyes had followed me.
His dusty-blond hair fell over his forehead, and at that moment, he looked so sincerely concerned that I wanted to apologize.
I had no reason to be this upset.
But I was.
All he had to do was listen to me, and he refused.
“Sorry to bother you.” I stepped back, and his eyes widened. “I’ve just been tired lately. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bianca?”
“Bye.”
And with that, I walked away from Finn Abernathy.
I huddledunder my covers as I tried to ignore the presence lurking in the corner of the guest bedroom. It’d been hanging around for a long time tonight. Surely it was an evil spirit intent on sucking out my soul. But it hadn’t made a move to do anything yet, and there was nothing I could do about it right now.
Not that I could do much anyway.
Besides, I couldn’t get over my stomach-turning guilt. Now that I’d had time to reflect on my earlier fight with Finn, I had to admit I’d been kind of mean. I’d even walked away from him.
I deserved to lose my friend over this.
If that happened, I would allow the ghost to drag me into the flames of eternal hell. I would welcome the journey. Perhaps a demon or two might want my companionship.
But also, what if Finn decided to follow up on his suspicions? He’d brought it up first. What if he decided to check my prescription?
I shouldn’t have brushed him off.
It was only a little after one in the morning. I’d just checked my phone moments before. Maybe he would still be awake. Would he mind if I sent him a message?
He had to know that I just couldn’t stay angry with him for very long.
Snatching my phone from the bedside table, I pulled up my messages. It was easy to locate our chat—I only had three contacts: my parents and him.
I wasn’t sure how to approach my apology. My best bet would be to pretend nothing had happened. It was the most foolproof way to escape conflict.
Me
Are you asleep?
I hit send before I could second-guess myself. Sure, I’d been the first to cave by reaching out, but the one who responded was the real weakest link.
I looked across the room—toward where I knew the spirit hid. A chill slid down my spine. If there was no response in the next five minutes, it could take me to its master.
The heavy feeling in the room increased, as if the ghost heard my mental promise.
