Sitting on Olivia’s bedroom floor instead of lying next to her is torture. Torture I deserve for being such an idiot, but torture nonetheless. After the attack, we spent an hour cleaning up the kitchen in silence. I watched her every move, my stomach twisting as new bruises joined the ones already there from the last attack. The urge to storm across the street and tear every Sentinel hiding in there apart was nearly impossible to resist.
Realizing that I would have to leave Olivia to accomplish that—along with the fact that I have no idea how to fight—kept me at bay. When the kitchen was clean, Olivia finally spoke to me, but it was only about what happened. Anything personal got ignored. She tried to pretend my refusal to be more than a few feet away from her annoyed her, but the way her body relaxed when I got closer gave her away.
Thinking about her makes it impossible to resist being next to her. I scoot closer to her bed and curl my hand around hers. She sighs in her exhausted sleep, but doesn’t wake up. We spent the rest of the afternoon arguing about the attack. I still thought she should have called the police. Olivia argued that they would start to think something was wrong with us after the break in, her being attacked, and now being attacked again. It would attract attention, something we can’t really afford. Plus, neither of us really thought they could do any good against the Sentinels.
Olivia didn’t even want to tell her mom and dad, which surprised me, but I agreed. All it will do is make them worry even more. Neither of them has any idea about how to get rid of the Sentinels, either. This whole situation is beginning to feel hopeless.
Every day I hold out hope that I won’t get Olivia and her family hurt or killed. I hope that I’ll figure out how to stay here past my eighteenth birthday, how to fix what I broke with Olivia. I cling to my hope, but reality edges in closer and closer. Tonight, I feel as if it is about to win. There’s only one person left to turn to for answers and hope.
I pull out my phone and open a message to Robin. Any new info from your parents or grandma?
It’s one in the morning, so I don’t hold my breath for a text. I just need something to distract myself with and answers seem like a good distraction. My foot starts tapping after five seconds.
Not much, comes Robin’s reply ten minutes later. Followed by, Sorry.
My fingers start tapping madly. Nothing about how I can stay here or why I have 2 go back?
It’s not easy 2 get answers without them figuring it out. It’s hard to tell through texts, but I swear she just snapped at me.
I’m not feeling all that polite either. I need answers, Robin.
Her response seems to take an eternity. I start to think she must have fallen asleep before I finally get another text.
Something happened, didn’t it?
I don’t respond right away. It’s not about trust. Not exactly. Robin wants answers. She knows she can get them if she pushes hard enough. Pushing could reveal me, though. We both know that’s a risk. Olivia would never take a risk like that, but I know I could push Robin far enough if I really wanted to. I just wish I knew what would happen if I did.
Olivia lured a Sentinel 2 the house & he almost killed her.
What!? Robin replies instantly.
Trying to explain that I wasn’t in on the plan and Olivia’s motivations will take too long through texting. I can tell her more tomorrow. For now, back to the answers.
Can I leave before my eighteenth birthday? I ask.
The pause between my text and her response makes me think my question has rattled her. I can picture her thumbs poised over her phone as her thoughts race.
Why? she finally asks.
Because it may be the only way to protect Olivia.
She has to take you there, remember? Robin responds. I think I detect a bit of a bite hidden in her words.
Answer the question Robin!
I half expect a huffy response, but instead her words feel weighted. No, U can’t leave early, but Olivia may be able to go with you when it’s time.
I nearly drop my phone when I finish reading her text. The breath I just inhaled feels impossibly heavy and incredibly light at the same time. What does that mean? Has Olivia changed her mind about coming with me? That’s an all too real possibility. Would I want to take her away from her family like that? She may never be able to come back.
Another question hits me.
I thought U said U hadn’t learned anything. I hope the accusing tone travels across the signal.
I didn’t want 2 get UR hopes up B4 I knew 4 sure.
I think I believe her. Maybe. Well, I don’t disbelieve her enough to comment on it. She’s the only one still talking to me on a regular basis, so I have to be careful. Tomorrow we’ll have plenty of time to talk.
After Olivia pretended 2 call the police, the Sentinel ran off. Any idea why?
Another slow response makes me hope she’s tapping out a long explanation that makes sense. Nope. All I get is a suspicious, No clue. Let’s talk tomorrow. Going 2 bed now. Really tired. Sorry.
That, I definitely don’t believe. I try texting her again, but after twenty minutes I give in and become very annoyed. She’s obviously hiding something from me. Tomorrow is not going to be fun for her if she doesn’t start talking as soon as I see her.
I stew over my annoyance for hours, until my mind is eventually drawn back to the attack. I think maybe there are some answers there, something he said perhaps. I replay everything I witnessed over and over again, begging for some kind of clue. My eyes are drifting closed before I latch onto something he said to Olivia.
He tried to convince Olivia that keeping me a secret was too hard because she’s the only one who could see or hear me. He’d said earlier that he knew exactly what Olivia was… that she wasn’t a Caretaker. He must have been referring to her being my Escort, but that doesn’t make sense because Olivia isn’t the only one who can hear me.
Exhaustion is begging me to climb up in bed next to Olivia and fall asleep. There’s no way that’s happening now. This one thought keeps nagging at me. Why would he say that no one else could hear me? As much as I hate the guy for hurting Olivia, he should know about this stuff, right? But he’s wrong.
I don’t know how long I sit staring at the wall before my wondering changes directions. Myself, Robin, her grandma, we all agreed that Olivia can see and hear me because she’s my Escort. I think Robin’s grandma was right about that. That hardly explains what I can do with Olivia’s parents and Evie. Why can they hear me? It isn’t about Olivia being the reason. I think… I think I might be the reason.
Maybe it’s like my clothes, how they disappear when I put them on, or my phone when I put it in my pocket. It’s not about me touching them. Evie used to love it when I would carry the cat around because it looked like it was flying. The cat didn’t disappear like my clothes. I’ve wondered about this for years, but without Caretakers to explain everything to me, I always just assumed it would never make sense. That’s just how it was.
Now, I wonder if my clothes and the things I put in my pockets disappear because I want them to… because I make them disappear. I never wanted the cat to disappear because it made Evie laugh. What if I’m the one controlling this? What if I’m responsible for more than I ever thought I was capable of?
The theory forms slowly, but as it takes hold there is a certain weight that seems to follow it. Yes, Olivia is my Escort. I’ve never had to try to make her see or hear me. She didn’t have to accept me in order to see me. Even though I might enjoy having to touch her every time we talk, she hears me from clear across the room.
This thing that makes Olivia special, it didn’t transfer to the rest of the house. I think I did something to make them hear me. Something that isn’t supposed to happen. My conversation with Robin about abilities I should have already developed comes charging to the front of my mind. Could this po
ssibly be what she was talking about?
If I made Olivia’s parents and Evie hear me… can I make them see me too?