I have a tube in my nose. Oxygen. The room spins, and I shift it back into focus.
Concentrate, Calla.
I open my eyes and the room spins. I shift it back into focus.
“Calla?”
My dad’s voice is calm and low. Shifting my gaze without moving my head, I find him in the corner chair, watching me in concern.
“I’m not dead?”
He smiles. “No. Thank God.”
My memory is blurry. “There were nuts,” I recall. “In my food.”
My father cringes. “Yes. I’m sorry, Calla. I didn’t see….”
“How long have I been here?” I ask. My voice is scratchy, my throat raw. I know from experience that they probably shoved a breathing tube down it.
“About four hours. We called an ambulance. You were out the whole time. You’ll be fine now. By tomorrow, you’ll be good as new, but they want to keep you overnight for observation.”
I nod.
I feel heavy, groggy, slow.
“What’s wrong with me?” I ask slowly.
“They gave you something to calm you down,” my father says hesitantly. His eyes are on my face, like he’s worried I’m going to fly off the handle. Did I before?
“Where’s Finn?”
My father looks away. “He can’t be in here, honey.”
“Why?”
My father sighs, and looks back to me. “You know why, Calla.”
I close my eyes. Because Finn knows I’m allergic to nuts. He knew and he gave them to me anyway.
Is that his version of saving me? Saving me from what? Sadness? Was his plan to kill me, then himself?
Pain ripples through me, slow, then hard, then unbearably, like a wave.
“I need to see him,” I say, the words cutting my lungs.
“No.” My father’s voice is firm.
I curl up on my side, looking away, out at the clouds having over the parking lot.
“Where is he?” I ask without looking at my father. He doesn’t answer, which sends chills down my spine.
“It’s my fault,” I tell him, turning over so that I’m looking him in the eye now. “It’s not Finn’s fault. It’s mine. I read his journal, I knew he was slipping and I should’ve told you, but I didn’t. He wants to save me from pain, dad. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. It’s not his fault, it’s mine.”
My voice takes on a jagged, desperate edge and my dad rubs my arm. “Calm down, sweetie. Everything’s going to be ok.”
“It’s not,” I insist, my voice shrill. “Don’t punish Finn. Don’t put him in the hospital, dad. It’s my fault. Not his. Not his.”
I’m practically screaming now, writhing in the bed trying to get up, but my dad holds me down, pleading with me. Before I know it, nurses have come in, two of them, one for each side. One injects something into my IV and then all of my agitation slips away. My anger is gone, my frustration non-existent.
“Please call Dare,” I whisper. “Please.”
And then everything is black.
38
TRIGENTA OCTO
Finn
“Let me go!” I shout, squirming to get away from the nurses. “I didn’t hurt her. I didn’t! I just had to help her. Don’t you see?”
No one can see and no one cares. They just wrap my wrists with elastic bands and fasten them to the bedframe.
I whimper into the pillow before I bite it. I’d never hurt Calla.
Never.
I’m doing all of this for her.
“Let me go,” I plead them. “I can’t leave her by herself. Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be good!”
But they ignore me and when I look up, I see my father’s face pressed against the glass.
I call out to him, but he doesn’t answer. In fact, his face slips away and doesn’t come back.
“Come back,” I whisper.
But he doesn’t.
My tears are hot, as I think about my sister, huddled somewhere in this hospital, alone and scared and thinking that I tried to kill her.
I would never. Would I?
YouDidYouDidYouDid. Don’tYouRemember? The voices are laughing at me, hissing and shrieking. YouDidYouDid.
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
But my hands are handcuffed to this bed and there is no arguing that.
I fed her the nuts. There’s no denying that, either.
I close my eyes against the chanting in my head, trying to block them out. SisterKillerSisterKillerSisterKiller. You’reaMonster. Monster. WeControlYou WeControlYou.
Monster.
39
TRIGENTA NOVEM
Calla
When I open my eyes, I immediately focus on Dare sitting next to me.
He’s sprawled in the recliner, his eyes closed, his hands gripping the armrests. He’s long and slender and lithe. He’s beautiful and dark and here.
He’s here.
I take a deep breath and blink to make sure I wasn’t imagining it.
He’s still there.
“Dare,” my whisper is throaty and raw. I figure he won’t hear me, but he does. His eyes fly open and meet mine.
And then he’s out of his chair and on his knees next my bed, his forehead pressed to mine.
“Cal,” he says, his lips brushing my skin. “Thank God.”
“How are you here?” I ask in confusion. “Did my dad…”
Dare nods. “You asked him to call me, and he did.”
Bless him. A surge of gratitude rushes through me. “Where is he? Is he with Finn?”
“I don’t know,” Dare answers. “I told him I would sit with you until he came back, though.”
I close my eyes and inhale him, his musky outdoorsy smell. “Don’t leave me,” I tell him. “Please. You promised once, remember?”
He nods. “I do. And I won’t. Don’t tell me to again.”
I nod. I won’t.
He strokes my hand, his fingers smooth. “What do you remember, Cal?”
“Finn made me a plate,” I tell him. “I took three bites and then realized that there were nuts. Pecans.”
Dare closes his eyes. “You’re lucky to be here,” he tells me without opening them. “Your dad said even one nut could kill you. You barely made it to the ER.”
“But I did,” I remind him. “I’m here now. Please don’t let them keep Finn. He didn’t mean to hurt me. I know he didn’t. He would never….”
But Dare sits up and rocks back on his heels. “I don’t know what they’re going to do,” he says vaguely. “It’s not up to me.”
I close my eyes, pain ripping through my chest. “Maybe you were right. Maybe I do need to leave here. Maybe I’m a crutch for him… or maybe I’m even a worry for him. He hates that I’m sad about mom. Maybe he just wanted to end my grief. If I left, he could focus on himself… not on me.”
“And you could focus on yourself,” Dare adds. I open my eyes and his face is so tired, so drawn. I reach out and touch it, my blue hospital bracelet sliding down my forearm. When did I lose weight? My arms are so skinny.
“I trust you,” I blurt suddenly. “I trust you to tell me about yourself whenever you’re ready.”
Dare flinches now. “It’s not about me being ready. It’s just… I can’t add to your burden, Cal. After this, can’t you see that?”
This. My burden. My brother trying to kill me.
Will it never end?
“I’m sorry for all of this,” I tell him quietly as I stare at his tired face. “I’m sorry that my life is crazy.”
He looks around and shudders. “You almost died, Calla.”
“I was handling it,” I defend myself and Finn. “Finn needs me. I was handling it.”
“Were you?” Dare raises an eyebrow. I look away.
“His journal is in my bedroom. As soon as I get out of here, I’ve got to finish it. I just feel, somehow, that it’s the key. I’ve got to read it all.”
Dare stares at me, his gaze as dark as night.
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’m positive. I’ve been reading it bits at a time, but it’s time that I finish it. Do you know when they’re letting me out?”
Dare shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think they said maybe in the morning, depending on how you’re doing. You were really upset last night.”
“Of course I was!” I snap. “They’re going to lock my brother away.”
Dare stares at me, sympathetic.
“Do what they say today, and I’m sure they’ll let you out in the morning.”
I nod and he holds my hand.
“What if I decide that I want to move to Berkeley early?” I ask him before I go to sleep.
He squeezes my fingers. “Then I’ll go with you.”
“And if I want to stay here?”
“Then I’ll stay with you.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what.”
That’s all I need to hear. Peace fills me up and I fall asleep. And in the morning, they let me go.
“I want to ride with Dare,” I tell my father.
Dad stares at me, his eyes at once sad and resigned.
“Ok.”
“And if Dare wants to rent the Carriage House again, I want you to let him.”
He nods.
“Anything else?” His voice is brittle.
“Yes. I love you.” I throw my arms around his neck because even if he interfered where he shouldn’t have, he did it because he loves me. When he pulls away, his eyes are misty.
“Go on, then. I’ll be home after while.”
“Can I see Finn before I go?”
He stares at me regretfully. “I’m afraid not.”
I nod, a lump forming in my throat.
“Will you bring him home with you?”
“I’ll try,” he promises.
That’ll have to be enough.
Dare walks me out of the hospital and to his bike, handing me my helmet. I wrap myself around his waist and we ride with the wind in our faces.
Freedom has never felt so good.
LIVE FREE. I understand that phrase now more than I thought I ever could.
When we get home, Dare pauses.
“I want to stay with you when you read the journal. Is that ok?”
He’s hesitant and sweet as he lingers on the bottom step of my porch. I’m self-conscious that he thinks I’m so fragile, but I nod anyway.
“Ok.”
He follows me to my room and sits at my desk while I curl up on my bed.
“Just pretend I’m not here,” he advises.
I shake my head, but that’s exactly what I do.
I ignore the sexy British heartthrob sitting two feet from me, and instead, focus on saving my brother.
To do that, I dive into his journal. I’ve only got a quarter of it left to read. I begin skimming through it, and it weaves its way back and forth between being lucid and crazy.
Ignore her.
Ignore it all.
Deus adiuva me. God help me. Me. Me.
God help me.
Nocte liber sum.
By night I am free.
I have to protect my secret. Have to have to have to.
This gibberish continues for pages, with pictures and phrases and words, until I come to one particular page. There’s a drawing of me and Finn, sitting on top of the cliffs. Finn is throwing his medallion over the side.
She needs it now. Not me not me not me.
Protect her from me. Protect her from me.
Protect her from me.
Love is stronger than death than death than death.
Love is stronger than death.
End this end this end this.
End this all.
Please god.
Please.
“Protect her from me,” I whisper, ice water pumping through my veins. “Finn knew he was going to do something to me. He was afraid of it. He kept trying to give me his St. Michael’s medallion to protect me. But I kept giving it back.”
I feel limp and shell-shocked as I stare at Dare.
“He knew he was going to hurt me. He couldn’t help it.”
Dare’s eyes are stormy. “So he gave you the nuts to protect you?”
I nod, the knowledge cutting through me to my heart. “He’d never hurt me. He only wanted to help me. It’s the only way he knew how in the state he’s in.”
“Have you figured out his secret?” Dare’s question is solemn. I shake my head.
“No. He keeps referencing it. He says I have to protect my secret. But he doesn’t say what it is.”
Dare opens his mouth to speak, but Finn’s voice is louder, thunderous, coming from the door.
“What are you doing with my journal?” he demands, his skin pale and his blue eyes paler. His expression is stormy though, furious. “You said you couldn’t find my journal, Calla. Did you have it all along? Did you hide it from me?”
I stammer, trying to form a reply, but he won’t let me.
“This is bullshit, Calla,” he snaps. “I’ve been killing myself with guilt and trying to figure out a way to help you, and you’ve been going behind my back all along.”
He stands still, so furious that he’s shaking. “You want to know my secret?” he asks, icily calm now. I nod, terrified. “Then come find out.”
He whirls around and storms out, down the stairs and out the door. I’m stunned for a minute, then I leap to my feet. I can hear Dare on my heels as I rush to follow my brother.
40
QUADRAGINTA
Finn
I fly over the trails, skidding up the path, with my sister right behind me. I don’t stop until I reach the cliffs, because God, I have to end it. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hide it. She has to know She has to know She has to know.
I can’t take it anymore.
She has to know.
“Finn!” Calla calls out. I turn around slowly, and I can hardly stomach the look on Calla’s face. She’s in so much pain, and I’m causing it.
It’s me.
It’s me.
It’s me.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Cal,” I tell her quietly, every word hurting my heart. “I just can’t take it anymore. The voices… they’re louder than my own. They tell me to do things, and I can’t tune them out. I don’t want you to hurt anymore. And I don’t want me to hurt. You’re a part of me and I’m a part of you and we shouldn’t have to hurt.”
Calla freezes, her hand in the air, because she hears the desperation in my voice.
“The secret is killing me, Cal,” I tell her. I sound desperate and weak and pathetic. “I can’t take it. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to me.”
“What is your secret, Finn?” she asks slowly, careful not to approach me. “Can you back away from the edge and tell me?”
I laugh, a hysterical sound, like a deranged hyena.
I’m unhinged unhinged unhinged.
I’ve come unhinged.
“Aren’t you tired of talking me off the edge?” I demand. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you tired of balancing on these cliffs and being afraid that we’ll tumble over the edge? I know I am. This isn’t life, Calla. This isn’t living. Love is stronger than death, Cal and this isn’t living.”
Her breath is loud, and I hear Dare coming up behind her, but he takes her cue and doesn’t say a word.
“It is living,” she says. “It’s living because I love you. I’ll do anything for you. You’re part of me, and I’m part of you and that’s the way it works. Please, God, please… don’t do this, Finn. Don’t do this.”
She’s crying now, shivering in the wind with her tears, but I feel lighter than I’ve felt in ages. In weeks. In months.
“It’ll all be ok, Calla,” I tell her. “It’ll be over soon.”
I smile and tilt my face toward the sky.
The sun feels good on my face.
Warmth = Life.
“No,” Calla cries out, lunging t
oward me, but I step backward.
“Don’t move,” I tell her. “Or I’ll do it right now.”
“Why are you doing this?” she sobs, her blazing red hair whipping around her from the wind. “Why, Finn?”
“Because things have to happen in order,” I tell her, as calmly as I can, only it sounds like I’m shouting. “You weren’t moving in order, Calla. I had to make you. This is how I’m making you. My secret. I’m helping you, you just don’t see it.”
“What is your secret?” she shrieks, tears falling onto her nose, her mouth, her shirt. “Tell me and I’ll help you, Finn. Save me and I’ll save you, remember? Let me save you!”
She’s sobbing and I am too and I can’t tell the difference between us anymore.
DoItDoItDoIt! The voices chant. JumpJumpJumpJump. Show her show her show her.
“Shut up!” I shout, covering my ears. “I tried, Calla. I tried. But I can’t do this anymore. Not even for you.”
I picture my list in my head, because it’s the only thing that drowns out the voices. It’s a clean page without mar or smudge. In my head, I carefully write the words, then cross them off because I’m about to complete my task. Finally.
End it now.
“I love you,” I tell my sister. I step back.
“Nooooo!”
The harsh shout breaks through my concentration and I pause on the edge, with the wind blowing through me, because the voice wasn’t Calla’s. It was Dare’s.
Confused, I look up to find Dare standing exactly where Calla had just been.
Red hair blows around my shoulders while my shoes balance on the edge.
Pink converses.
They should be black.
“Calla, step away from the edge,” Dare pleads. “Please.”
Calla, step away from the edge.
What the hell?
I stare at Dare, balanced precariously, as I try and sort through what is happening with jagged, phrenetic thoughts. The pieces fly apart and whirl and come back together, forming partially cohesive thoughts. Through all of it, though, one thing is clear.
Finn isn’t here.