Page 76 of The Pansy Paradox
At last, she lowered the photograph. Then Pansy turned and met his gaze. That dreamy look had returned, and Henry swore he could almost see the past play out behind those dark eyes with their thick lashes.
“We know something happened,” she said, her words cautious, as if she were afraid to chase away the wispy strands of the past. “But there’s more to it. There was a before and after, and five years ago was just part of the after. This.” She raised the photo. “Is the before.”
He held out a hand. “Do you need an anchor to keep you connected to the present?”
Without a word, she took his outstretched hand. The connection zinged through him. Her Sight had the same force as Ophelia’s, but its texture and essence were different. He could read King’s End in her touch, but beneath that was something vast and unfathomable. It was like touching starlight, and the expanse nearly had him drawing his hand away.
How did she live with that?
“My mother,” she said, her voice echoing that starlight. “And your father. And the other agent. They did something. It wasn’t simply a patrol. It was intentional.”
Those words, the ones he had spoken so casually over Pansy’s coffee table, came back to haunt him.
More often, it’s human interference, and even Enclave interference, that makes these situations worse.
“Can you tell what it was?”
“No. The Sight won’t show me that.”
Henry cursed himself. She was, perhaps unintentionally, invoking the Sight. He should’ve known better. Her Sight, like Ophelia’s, was too strong to be flirted with like this.
“Yet,” she added.
That single word felt like a death knell against his heart. He’d have to remain vigilant so the Sight wouldn’t ambush her—and him—once again.
“And the third agent? Anything?” he prompted. They were already deep into this, might as well go all the way.
“I can see my mother and your father. You look like him.” Pansy gave her head a little shake, her words so airy that Henry had to lean closer to hear her. “And someone else, a man, I think. It’s funny, but I can’t say his name, I can’t describe him. It’s like there’s a veil shrouding him. He and your father, they both want something from my mother. It’s a rivalry between them. Your father thinks it’s friendly.” Her voice turned cold. “But it’s not.”
Without letting go of Pansy, Henry knelt and rummaged in the messenger bag he’d dropped by his feet. He pulled one and then another photo from the envelope. At last, he held up a group shot. Nearly everyone who was anyone of his father’s generation, all there, gathered around the backyard fire pit, Rose in the center, their undisputed queen.
“Was it someone in this photograph?”
Without hesitation, without a breath, without opening her eyes, she said, “Yes.”
That was when Henry reeled her in, back to the present, the here and now, tugging her closer, willing her to look at him.
“Pansy, Pansy. Come back to me.” He dropped the photograph and cupped her face in his hands, hoping the contact would help. “Let go of the past. You can’t change it, so it has no right to hang on to you.”
Her lashes fluttered. She gripped his wrists as if she needed something to tether her to this time and place.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“I think so.”
“I apologize. I didn’t think your Sight?—”
“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault.” She gazed up at him, her expression full of wonder. “That was amazing, having your help. I wasn’t the least bit scared, and I could focus without having to worry about losing myself.”
Her exhale was soft and sweet against his lips. For a long moment, they stood there, his hands still cradling her face, hers still gripping his wrists. Their breath mingled in the way it did moments before a kiss. And Henry wanted to kiss her, felt his mouth inch closer to hers, her chin tilting slightly. The promise of it was thick and rich, and he longed to indulge. But now wasn’t the time, and here was hardly the place.
And yet, he couldn’t admonish himself. No shut it down, Henry played in his mind. No guilt, although, really, that was warranted. But sometime between his father’s death and now, he’d let go of so many things, Enclave rules and the prescribed track for his life in particular.
Even so, he took the first step back, gently, as if merely giving Pansy some space to breathe.
“Are you with me?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m here.”
