Read I Belong to the Earth (Unveiled Book 1) Page 29

  I'd never been drunk and if this was what a hangover felt like, I was never going to get drunk. A hot band of pain tightened around my skull, pulsing along with my heartbeat. My eyes felt like poached eggs. I wasn't sure which was worse; the repeated nightmares about the accident or dropping into the unknown and finding myself in Helen's head. I swiped my sore eyes with the back of my hand. Pulling the duvet over my head and sleeping through the day was almost too tempting. Judging from the way the light filtered through the un-drawn curtains it was already late morning. The window was shut, though. I didn't imagine that part. Somehow I’d banished the cold girl. Could I make the Dead go where I wanted? Is that what Mrs Cranford meant?

  My brain was working on half power, fighting thick layers of exhaustion. Something niggled at me. Something I should have checked last night…The book! I forgot to see if it was open on the desk again last night. This time I wouldn't put it away. I'd mark the page it was open at and then…

  My desk was empty. No book. No message last night. Disquiet uncurled thin fingers in my stomach. It shouldn't matter. But what if I'd been ignoring something important all along? Fine. Maybe I could find the passage myself. Maybe the book would just fall open at the right place. I could take it to Mrs Cranford or even Amy and have one of them read it…

  The book wasn't on the shelf. I knew it was missing because there was a clear gap where it should be. I hunted through my room for it, with increasing frenzy. I pulled all the books off the shelf in case I was wrong. I wasn’t. I knew the weight and feel and scent of that book. The one Mum and I would never read and discuss. I raked my gaze over the chaos of my bedroom, as if trying to make the book appear by will power alone. It was no good. It was gone. I sat on the window seat, staring at the moor, without knowing how I got there. The loss of the book was bad. Not just because it was a link to Mum but because I let myself realize now, how important it probably was. I should have looked at it before. If I hadn’t been so caught up in denial…I needed to go back to Mrs Cranford and hear her out. There was no one else with any answers.

  The faint mournful scent of rosemary and violets hung on the air.