Page 113 of Fallen Thorns
Flopping back onto my bed, I fixed my eyes to the cracks in the ceiling. “Do you thinkshewill give up?”
“Not give up.” Mars slid down the mattress so that they mirrored my position; hands pressed against their abdomen. “But I believe she will get impatient. Probably give us a clue to try and mock us.”
Lucy’s unnatural green hair flashed in my mind and my neck tingled, right where she had bitten me. I instinctively rose my hand to scratch the area and Mars looked to me as if my thoughts had been projected out above us.
“It’s maddened us all, how easily she has gotten away with everything. Right when we were meant to protect everyone.”
I was about to make the ‘we’re only human’ excuse, though I halted in understanding that that phrase could no longer stand.
Instead, I sighed and stared straight ahead. “Do you think he is still alive?”
A pause.
“I do.”
I wasn’t sure which response I expected, but maybe every other answer would have sparked the same reaction.
“Because she would love nothing more than to inform us otherwise.”
I thought back to my date, which seemed to be many moons ago now, and my growing discomfort I felt as the night progressed. The way she forced herself against me. I hoped she didn’t try anything like that with poor Ben.Oh god.
“He proposed, you know,” Mars added to the silence.
My chest constricted. “Casper?”
Mars shook their head. “No, Ben did. The night he went missing. Christmas day.”
“Oh.” I imagined it: Ben gleefully falling to one knee.
“He asked me for advice.” A laugh was hidden in their words. “Me, of all people, being asked for proposal advice.”
I was unaware of the true ins and outs of Mars’ dating history, nor was it my business, but from what I gathered, it consisted of a handful of very different types of people with a multitude of personalities. None were ever serious though.
“I helped him pick the ring, bless him,” they continued, reminiscing.
I fell sick to my stomach with sadness. Poor, poor, poor boy. He was almost a decade my senior and yet I always saw him as a younger brother whom I needed to protect. I think everyone saw Ben that way.
“She will pay for what she has done,” I stated through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second.”
* * *
As it turned out,Mars was exactly right. Ben was still alive.
Less than an hour later, Marianne called us in tears she no longer tried to hold back. She hauled us into the hall and tossed a crumpled piece of paper in our direction, Mars grabbing it from her and biting the back of their hand after reading it. They threw it to the floor in a fit, stomping their foot and pacing. I picked up the discarded letter from the floor, the smooth parchment mocking me as I held it in my hands. Right there, in fountain ink: a satire of formality.
Dearest Thorns,
It saddens me that you have made no effort to find your most valued player. He sits and begs for you, and yet you do not come. I have informed him of your attempts, or lack thereof, and he is deeply saddened by this. He longs for his partner, or should I say fiancé (my congratulations), but this long distance is taking a toll on him, poor boy. Do they not wish to see me? He wonders at night. Hmm. It appears you do not. Disappointing.
Yours most dearly,
Lucienne Dumont x
My first thoughtwasI wonder if she thought she was revealing herself here?But my second quickly became that of Ben, lying on a cold dark floor, calling out helplessly for Casper — or any of us for that matter.
“That fucking bitch,” Mars growled and kicked the nearest wall.
