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POE: NEVERMORE

RachelM.Martens

HauntedForestPublishing

FirstEdition:June2013

SecondEdition:March2015

ISBN-13:9781483531403

Coverdesignby:RobinLudwigDesign,Inc wwwgobookcoverdesigncom

PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica

‘Prophet!’said I, ‘thing of evil-prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us-by that God we both adore-

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name LenoreClasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore’

Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore ’

‘Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,’I shrieked, upstarting‘Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!’

Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore ’

“The

Raven”- Edgar Allan Poe

PARTONE

“…Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow… ”

ONE

Everything is bathed in red light, as if blood spattered over the light fixtures and its color is now being cast about the room in horrific brilliance. The tips of my fingers skim along the blood-soaked walls, leaving thin white lines of cleanliness beneath which someone ’ s life drips. My shoes pick up red stain with each step I take on the swamp-like plush carpet, each of those steps accompanied by a nauseating squishing sound Adoor waits at the end of the hallway, hanging ajar by a mere inch, just enough to reveal the darkness in the room beyond.

My pulse quickens and I can feel my ribcage expanding and contracting with each breath, can hear my heart beating louder, louder with every step towards that door….

The stench of blood thick in the air begins to twist my stomach and make me gag The pounding of my heart in my head is inducing a migraine and with each thump of the muscle, my eyes shiver and the entire hallway seems to vibrate. Or, perhaps, the vibrations of the hallway are not a result of the migraine, but of my heart pounding with such force that the sound emanating from within my chest is so loud as to shake the entire house My skull feels as though it has been caught within a slowly tightening vice, crushing me in its iron jaws, sending warm blood trickling from my ears.

I reach the door and slowly extend my hand before me, the pain in my head growing exponentially as I close the distance. I press my palm flush against the blood-spattered pane. I can hear a creaking sound exploding in my ears, and I’m screaming as my skull begins to crack under the pressure With one last step forward, I push the door open…

The world falls away beneath my feet, my stomach, my heart, my breath in my throat, water in my legs. And I’m falling, falling, falling, falling….

AscreamjoltedmeawakeandIspranguprightinmybed,eyeswideassaucersastheydartedaround Justasthe automaticreactiontofindthesourceofthescreamandofferhelptookhold,Irealizedthescreamerwasme.

MyshouldersslumpedandIputonehandtomytempletoholdupmyheadwhileItriedtoslowmyracingpulseand concentrateontheroomaroundme,onreality. Relax, Poe. That wasn’t real.

Ofcoursethenightmarewasn’treal,theyneverwere,butitssourcewasalltooaliveinmymemoryandthatwas whatalwaysmadethenightmaresdifficulttorecoverfrom. Itwasn’tsleepdeprivationorgraphicimagesthatwerethereal Death’sHeadsthathauntedme. Itwastheemotionalwoundsthatneverreallyheal,thescarsthatcansoeasilybetornopen againbyamasochisticsubconscious

Itookanotherdeep,slowbreathandthen,withthenightmaresufficientlydispelledthatmyhandswerenolonger shaking,tookmyhandfrommyheadandturnedonthelamponmybedsidetable Asthetiny,dingyapartmentbedroomwas floodedwithlight,IgraspedthewaterglassIhadleftnearthelampandtookacautioussip. Slowly,Ireturnedthehalf-empty glasstoitsplaceandadjustedthepillowssothatIcouldleanbackonthemagainsttheblackrummagesaleheadboardwith hand-paintedsilverscrollwork Theroomwasverysmall,sothepoorlightinggivenoffbythesolitarylampwasenoughto thrownearlytheentirespaceintorelief,soakeduponlyinthethickblackcurtainshidingthelightsofBaltimorefrommy view Thebedwasafull-sizemattressasthinasapillow,acquiredatthesamerummagesaleastheheadboard,withthree thickquiltsonittodefendagainsttheapartment’snonexistentheatingsystem. Thebedtookupthevastmajorityofthe floorspace,butI’dmanagedtowedgealargedresserwithatinymirrorbalancedonitagainsttheopposingwall Nearlya dozencleverlyplacedpaintingsanddrawingsI’ddoneovertheyearshidwaterstainsandpeelingplasteronthewalls. The costoflivinginBaltimorewasn’tobscenebyanymeans,butbeingonlytwoyearsoutofcollegewithnofamilyorinheritance tohelpmegetbymeantIwasextremelyluckytoaffordevenanapartmentthislousy Batteredpaperbacksandwater-damaged hardcoversfilledricketybookshelvesalongthewallsandcontinuedoutintothelivingarea. Justlookingatthehundredsof bookssurroundingme,nomattertheircondition,wasenoughtochaseawaythenightmare

Iturnedbacktowardsthebedsidetableandcheckedthedisplayonmystone-agealarmclock. Sureenough,itwas fiveo’clock Thedamnthinghadn’tgoneoff

Throwingoffthequilts,Ishiveredandslippedoutofbed,wincingwhenmyfeetconnectedwiththecoldhardwood floor. Quickly,Iflungopentheclosetandretrievedablackturtleneck,jeansandsneakers,thenproceededtothedresserfora bra,panties,andsocks Thebathroomhadlookedlikesomethingstraightoutofparasite-heavenwhenI’dfirststartedrenting here,butIhadsincescrubbeditandsmotheredeverysurfaceinbleachenoughtimesthatitnolongermademenauseousto showerinthere Ishoweredquicklyanddressed,thenblow-driedmylong,thick,darkbrownhair,ataskwhichtookmeno lessthantenminutesevenwhenIleftitmostlydamp. Irushedtoapplyenoughcover-uptoconcealthetriple-bagsundermy eyes,thescarsofaninsomniac. Inthekitchen,Iretrievedanapplefromtherefrigeratorandgrabbedmyjeanjacketandsome cash,thenexitedtheapartmentatarun.

ThetroublewithworkingatStarbucksisthatyouoftenhavetoworkintheearlyhoursoftheday. Itisagoodjobfor someonewhodoesn’tsleepmuch,though;Iwasawakeeverymorningbyfiveanyway

MyapartmentwasonlyaboutfiveblocksfromtheStarbuckslocationwhereIworked,soIlikedtorunthereevery morningformyshift LivingindowntownBaltimoremeantthatduringmostoftheday,thesidewalkswerefairlycrowdedand

notagreatenvironmentforrunning,butintheearlyhoursofthemorninglikethis,therewereonlyasparefewpeoplearound. Theskywasthickwithdarkgreyclouds,thoughitwasnearlysixo’clock,andafreshdustingofsnowcoveredthesidewalk, disturbedonlyinthintracksleftbyjoggersanddog-walkers Fewotherpeoplewerededicatedorcrazyenoughtobeouton thestreetssoearlyinlateNovember.

Ipumpedmylegsandbrokeintoasprint,mysneakerspoundingonthecold-hardenedcement Itwasnotaneasy task,butImanagedtostayuprightdespitethewetsnowandslush. Myheartbeatfaster,mylungspumpedharder,andIfelta smileever-so-slowlystretchingacrossmyfaceasthefreenessoftheicyairandthecityflyingbymesweptthenight’sterrors away.

StarbuckswasquietwhenIarrived;onlytwojoggersandonemanwithalaptopwereseatedatthetables.There wasoneemployeeatthecounter,ahighschooldrop-outnamedGavin Gavinspenthisdaysworkingatthislessthanfine establishmentandplayingWorldofWarcraft. Iknewbecauseontherareoccasionwe’dtriedtoforceaconversation,within abouttwoexchangesthesubjectinevitablyshiftedtohismaniacalobsessionwiththegame Asaresult,Itriednotto encourageconversation,whichwasn’ttoodifficult. Gavinwasusuallysobusydaydreamingorwhisperingtohimselfthathe barelyhadafreemomenttotalk Hedidregistermyarrival,though,andrewardedmewithanot-quite-halfsmile,alongwitha ‘Hey,Poe.’

Inthebackroom,Ipunchedinandhungupmycoat,replacingitwithmyStarbucksuniform,whichIhurriedlythrew on,alongwiththesillygreenhat,apron,andnon-slipshoes Ievenlabeledmypunch-cards Poe,thoughthatwasn’tmyfirst name. Iwentbymylastnameonaccountofanunfortunatechoicebymyparents:ElenoraAllisonPoe. Icouldn’tstandmy firstormiddlename Besides,beingahugefanofEdgarAllanPoemadeborrowingthelastnamealltoodesirable

Iheadedouttothefrontcounter,tyingmyapronasIwentandrollingmyeyeswhenIspottedthemanagerbentover hisofficecomputer,nodoubtwatchingpornagain. Ireallypitiedhiswife. Heworeagoldbandonhisleftring-fingerdespite thefactthatIcouldn’timagineawomanwhowouldstoopsolowastomarryhim. Thenagain,Iwasnotonetojudge. Mrs. Aaronhadmarriedmyfoster-fatherafterall. IfJonathanAaronhadoncebeensaneenoughtobemarriagematerial,thenit wasn’tsohardtoseethatasurlycoffee-shopownerwithaprofoundinterestinInternetporncouldhavebeenaswell

Icontinuedtomypostbehindthecounter,deliveringasmallsmiletoGavinasIrelievedhim. Withoutaword,he scamperedintothebackroomtograbhismonstrousStarTrekhoodieanddeposithishatandapron Islippedmyappleoutof mypocketandhiditawayunderthecountertosaveitfortheoff-chanceIwouldhavetimetoeatitduringmyshift. Withina minuteorso,GavinwasstalkingthroughStarbuckstothefrontdoorand,ultimately,thenearestbusstop,hisiPodblasting quirkytechnomusicthroughhisearbuds. Ihadtriedmorethanoncetotellhimhewouldbedeafwithinafewyears,butonly earnedmyselfafewsneersanddirtylooksaspaymentfortheadvice.

IdidnotreallymindworkingatStarbucks ItwasnotthecushiestjobinBaltimoreandIwasnotthefull-timewriter Idreamedofbeingyet,butitwasn’tbad. Thecoffeeshopgenerallysmelledgoodandthemusicthemanagerselectedwassoft andrelaxing,asopposedtothegrocerystoremusicIhadenduredatotherestablishments Asabonus,thepaywasafew dollarsbetterthanminimumwage,whichwasmorethancouldbesaidofmostoftheotherplacesIhadheldjobsatsinceIwas fifteen.

Asmyshiftworeon,Ifoundmyselffallingdeeperanddeeperintomymemories Itwasnotnostalgiabyanystretch oftheimagination,thoughIwasnothappywithwhereIwasinmylife. Itwasmorelikeacancerthatyoucankeepcuttingout onlytohaveitresurfaceinanotherpartofyourbody,thesortthatcanneverreallybecuredorforgotten Itriedtoavoidletting thememoriesconsumeme,astheysooftentendedtodo. TheyslowlyateawayatthewallIhadcarefullyconstructedtobury thematthebackofmymind

UpuntilIturnedfifteen,Ihadhadtheluxuryofmybareessentialclothingpaidforby-myfosterparents,whoalso permittedmetousethesparebedroomupstairs. WhenIhadturnedfifteen,though,Ihadcomehomefromschooltofindallmy possessionsthattheAaronshadpaidforatthecurb Thebedframewasbroken,themattresswastorn,thesheetsandcurtains ripped,thenightstandanddresserkickedin. IwouldneverforgetthewaymystomachhaddroppedwhenIhadstoodinthe thresholdofmyformerbedroom,staringintomyfoster-father’snewstudyashesmiledatmelecherouslyfrombehindahuge desk. Hewasfingeringthegaudyringhealwaysworewiththebigengraved‘A’onit,theringhelovedmorethananyoneelse intheworldcombined “Happybirthday,Elenora,”he’dsaidslowly,asifhewassavoringthewords

Myfoster-parentsfromthenonrefusedtocontributetomystateoflivinganymorethanprovidingmewithonemeal adayandallowingmetoliveinthebasement,whereIsleptonanancientcouchmissingitsspringsuntilIleftforcollege. I hadtofindawaytopayforanyothercomfortsmyself

Tobehonest,Iwasgladtobeinthebasement,farawayfromthebastard.

HotcoffeeoverflowedthecupIwasfillingandIsnappedoutofthedepressingreverie,wincingandsmashingmy palmonthe‘stop’button. Carefully,Isetthecupdownonthecounterandwipedthecoffeefromitandmyhands,thenbrought thecuptothecustomer,ayoungblondmaninjeansandaheavyleatherjacket. Heraisedhiseyebrows,lookingdowntowards thecounter,andmuttered,“Jeez.”

Irealizedhewaslookingatmyscaldedredhandsandshrugged,half-smilinggrimly,“It’snothing. Hightolerance

forpain. Ibarelyevenfeltit.”

IrealizeditwasabadanswerasIsaidit,accurateasitmightbe,buthedidnotgivemeanoddlook,asIhad expectedhimto Instead,hefrownedinunwaveringconcernandhandedmeaten-dollarbill “Ifyousayso” Imadenoresponseandopenedthecashregister,depositingthetenandcountingouthischangeforhim. WhenIheld outthechangeandhisreceipttohim,hetouchedmyhandandmetmygaze Ifeltmyheartskipabeat,notonlyattheforeign warmthofhishand,butalsoathisface,whichIhadnotreallyregistereduntilthatmoment. Oneoftheside-effectsofpoor self-esteemwasnotusuallymeetingtheeyesofothers,butthisman’seyeswerebrilliant,asilverybluethatwaslikeicebut simultaneouslymoltenlikeliquidsteel. Theywerenotblueandnotsilver. Theywerenotmerelylikewaterormetal;they weremoltenice,somethingfrozenandsmolderingallatonce. Hisfacewaschiseled,hisjawstrong,hismouthsoftand compassionate,butitwasthoseeyesthatheldmefrozenliketheiceswirlingintheirdepths “Areyousureyou’reokay?”heasked.

Forjustamoment,Iwonderedifhewasreallyaskingaboutmyhandsorsomethingelse ThenIswallowedin disappointmentasthesteeldoorIhadbuiltinmymindslammedshut,sealingawaymyemotionsasanecessaryevil. Inodded andgavehimafakehalf-smileIknewhedidnotbuy “I’mfine,”Isaidunemotionally,onestepshortofcoldly

HefrowneddeeplyandIfeltthoseeyespiercingrightthroughmyskin,asifhecouldseestraightintomysoul. “Okay. Thankyou,”hesaid. Afterahesitantmoment,hetookthereceipt,butleftmethechange,leavingthecoffeeshop behind Longafterhehadgone,thenerve-endingsinmyhandstillfeltstrangeandtinglyandIwassureitwasnotbecauseof thecoffee. Ihadneverbeentouchedlikethat. Ihadneverseensomeonelookatmewithsomuchconcern,asiftheyactually cared AsifImattered

No. No, no, no. Ipusheddownthebizarrenewemotionstryingtobreakthesurface,shovingthemanwiththeblue eyesviolentlyfrommymind. HewasjustarandomcustomerIwouldneverseeagain. Besides,Iwasprobablyimaginingthe wayhelookedatmeandwhatwasmeantbyit. Whyshouldhefeelconcernforme,particularlywhenheknewmeasnomore thanaStarbucksbarista?

EvenifIwasrightaboutthewayhelookedatmeandevenifbysomestrangestrokeof what? Luck? Ifbyluck,if thatwasreallythecorrectword,Isawhimagain,itwouldneverdevelopintoanythingworthwhile. Hewouldeitherturnout tobeyetanotherscumbag,orIwouldbetooworriedthathewastolethimin Ihadbeenbrokenonetoomanytimes

Theysaythattheheartsofthedeadareneversilent. Theysaythattheyliveon,beaton,loveonforever. Butwhatof theheartsoftheliving? Whatofthoseoneswhohavebeenbrokensomanytimesthattheywouldbebetteroffdead? Iknew thattheirheartsfellsilentbecauseminehaddonejustthat. Iwasbroken,empty,deadinside…ahollowedout,ravagedshellof thegirlIwas. Therearethoseamongthelivingwhowalkabout,breathe,speak,eat,drink,sleep…allwhiledead. Iwasone ofthem

Ihadbeenbrokenonetoomanytimesandtorninonetoomanypieces. Myheartbeatwiththesamepassionasthe commonghost Ifeltnothinganymore:notpain,notpassion,andcertainlynotlove Myquestionwasnotwhethertheliving couldgoondead,becauseIknewtheycould,butratherwhetherthepersontheyoncewere,theshadowoftheirshatteredsoul, couldeverberesurrected.

Iusedtohopesuchathingwouldonedaybepossibleforme ThatwasbeforeIwasbrokenagain,andagain,and oncemoreagain. IalsousedtowonderifthepainwouldeverenduntilonemorningIwoketofindthatithadgone,muchlike anightmaredisappearsinthelightofanewday,onlytobereplacedbyacoldnesssomuchworsethangrief,alackofemotion andfeeling,asteeldoorthatoverrodeallmypotentialfornormalcyanytimeanopportunitytolivearose. Thenumberof offersto‘hangout’,‘checkoutaparty’or‘studytogether’incollegethatIhadturneddownwereevidenceofthat SinceIwas seventeen,Ihadnotallowedasinglepersontowalkintomylifeandthefewalmost-friendsIhadhadquicklyfellaway. I triedtoholdontomyfoster-mother,Mrs.Aaron,becauseshewassosweetandhadtriedtohelpme,butIcouldnot. Iwasnot thesamepersonanymore

AsGigi,thegirlwhowouldtakemyshift,enteredthecoffeehouse,shewavedaquiethelloandvanishedintothe backroom Watchingher,IreflectedonwhatIhadlost Notmanyfriends Ihadneverbeengoodatmakingfriends, especiallybecausemyfamilyhaddiedwhenIwasonlytwoyearsoldandeversinceIstartedpreschool,otherkidsmadeup cruelrumorsaboutme OneoftheworsthadactuallybeenGigi’soldersister,whowasmyageandfranklysociopathic,Gigi’s foilinmanyways. She’dhadalargeportionofthestudentbodyconvinceduntilhighschoolthatIhadsomehowcausedthe deathofmyfamilyandthatwaswhyIhadbeenthesolesurvivorofthetragedy. Byhighschool,noonebelievedthatanymore, butthedamagehadalreadybeendoneandbefriendingmewassocialsuicide

Asaresult,Ihadneverhadfriendsnorlearnedtheabilitytomakefriends. InevermetanyoneincollegeIspoketo regularlyandmyroommatehadavoidedmebecauseIhadhonestlyscaredher Ididnotblameheranddidnotmind Ihad grownusedtothesilence.

Gigitappedmeontheshoulder,breakingmeoutofmyreverie. Shesmilednicelyatme,herperfectwhiteteeth, smoothblondhairandbrightgreeneyespositivelyglowinginherattempttomakenice. Shewasasweetgirl,tryingtoearn herwaythroughcollegedespitethefactthatherparentswereverywealthy. Italsoseemedshewastryingtomakefriendswith

meandfixme. “It’snoon,Poe.”

Ismiledtightlybackatthepoorgirl. Shewaswastinghertime. “Thanks,Gigi.” JustasIwasheadingfortheback room,Irememberedmyappleandreturnedtofetchit AsIheadedtothebackroomformycoatandtopunchout,IcaughtGigi outofmyperipheralvisionlookingatmewithconcern,nodoubtguessingthatthatwasallIwaseatingforlunch.

Iamsocold. Alwayssocold. Thecellislikeanicebox. Thewallsaredamp,awetchillhangsintheair,thecell blockreeksofunwashedbodies.

Iamsweating. Sweatingiciclesthatdripdownthecenterofmyback,overmyface,alongmychestandarms. I’ll killher I’llkillthemall I’llkillherandI’llkillthatbastardandI’llkilltheweakstupidbitchhechoseovermeandI’llkill themall.

WhenIgetout Onlyafewdaysnow,thewritingwasonthewall,theirnumberswereup I’llpickthemoffoneby one,justasitshould’vebeenyearsago. Iknowexactlyhowtodoit. Iplanneditperfectly. Therearenoflaws,nochinksin thearmor,nothing. Nopossibilityforfailure. IfIplaymycardsright,noonewilleverevenknowIwasthedealer. Noone knewthelasttime,orthetimebefore. Somuchmisery,allmybeautifulwork. AndI’lldoitagain. Butthistime,itwillbe final.

Theywilldie Theywilldie Theywilldie

IhadafewhourstokillbeforemyshiftattherestaurantwhereIwaitressed,soIwalkedseveralblockstotheEnoch PrattLibrary. Ispenthourseverydayinthatlibrarybecauseitwasold,itwasarchitecturallybeautiful,therewasagreat collectionofbooks,and,bestofall,itwasfreeandIwaspoor Usually,Ispentmytimethereatoneofthecomputer terminals,writing. Ididnothavethemoneyforacomputerofmyown.

WhenIpassedthroughthemaindoorsofthelibrary,theheadlibrarian,Carol,smiledbrightlyandwavedtome “Nicetoseeyou,Poe.”

Ismiledslightly. “Nicetoseeyoutoo,Carol. Howwasyourvacation?”

Carolgrinnedandhereyesturnedreminiscing. “Oh,GeorgeandIhadawonderfultime. Youknow,Barbadosis wonderfulthistimeofyear. Thebeachesweretheperfectescapefromthisdreadfulcoldweather. Idon’tthinkwe’vehada winterthiscoldandthisearlyinyears”

Ishrugged. “Idon’tmindthecoldtoomuch. ButwithhowclumsyIam,thaticeisterrible.”

“Winteringeneralisterrible!”Carolinsisted,hervoicegrowinghumorouslyimpassionedabouttheissue “Allthat iceandslushandwhatnot….although,”sheaddedafterathought,“Mykidswillbehomefromcollegesoonfortheholidays,so thatwillbelovely. It’salwayssonicetohavethefamilytogether.”

Mysmileturnedtightanditfeltasthoughastonehadsettledinmystomach,butInodded. “Yes. I’msurethatwill bewonderful.”

Withnothingmore,IslippedthroughthelibrarytooneofthecomputerterminalsCarolcouldn’tseefromthefront desk. Irestedmyelbowsonthedeskandplacedmyheadinmyhands. Ididnotcry,thewoundsweretoooldforthat,but therewasthesickachinginmychestthatwasalwaystheretoremindmeofhowharditistoescapefromsuchamassiveloss Oneparentorsiblingwouldbepainfulenoughtolose,butbothparentsandbothsiblings? Ididnotevenhaveotherrelatives. Myentirefamilyhadbeenwipedout,leavingmewithnothingattheageoftwo. SomehowIcouldstillrecallglimpsesof them,butIwasnotsureifthatmadethelossanylessdifficult Infact,itmighthavemadeitworse

Ipushedawaythepainfulmemories,loggingintothecomputerwithmylibrarycardandtakingaflashdrivefrommy pocket IpluggeditintooneoftheUSBportsandscrolledthroughthefiles,selectingoneaftersomedeliberation,andbegan toworkonit. Iwasnotevenapageinwhensomeonetookaseatinthechairnexttome. Istoppedtyping,myjawtightening. Iknewthateveryotherterminalwasopen TherewasnooneatthecomputersaroundmewhenIhadsatdownandIwould havenoticedifsomeonehadappearedsincethen. Whythenwasthispersonsittingright nexttome?

Iwasjuststartingtocalmmyself,tellingmyselfforthethousandthtimethatIwasbeingparanoid,whenafamiliar voiceasked,“Whatareyouwriting?”

AsItriedtoslowmyracingheart,Igraduallytwistedinmychairtolookattheindividualseatednexttomeand froze,mygazelockedbyeyesthatcouldonlybedescribedasmoltenice,ifsuchathingexisted Afterabriefmoment,I recoveredandmyowneyesnarrowed. “Howdidyoufindmehere? Areyoustalkingme?”Iaccused. “Whoareyou?”

Theblue-eyedmanIhadmetearlieratStarbuckssmiled,seemingtotakenoteofmydefensivenessandmentallyfile it,thenskirtaroundit. “Coincidence. Ihappentolikethelibrarytooandsawyousittinghere. Irecognizedyou,”hesaid. “Right,”Isnapped,shiftingmylegsaroundthechairtofacehimhead-on. “I’mnotinterested,Idonotliketobe

followedandIamnotattractiveenoughtobeworthstalking. YouarewastingyourtimeandIamnotsomeoneyoucanmess with. Leavemealone.”

Hesmiledpatiently,hiseyessmoldering,thecornerofhismouthtwitchingslightlyinanattempttohideasmile “I justwantedtotalktoyouagain,maybeoveradrink? It’snoteverydayyoumeetsomeonewho’sgenuinelyinterestingand you’veonlyreinforcedthatviewsinceIsatdown”

Iraisedaneyebrowandgavehimasidelongglance. “‘Genuinelyinteresting’? Whatthehelldoesthatmean?”

“ItmeansthatIthinkyouhaveadepththatmostpeoplelackandIlikethataboutyou,”heanswered,hisblueeyes shiningwithhumor. “Besides,Ithinkyouareattractiveenoughtobestalk-able.” Igavehimadarklookandanswereddryly,“LikeIsaid,I’mnotinterested. Pleaseleavemealone.” Iturnedbackto mycomputer,noticingthathissmiletightenedasIdidso Hedidnotleave,butfacedforwardinhischairandcrackedopena bookIhadnotnoticedinhishand. ThecoverseemedfamiliarinmyperipheralvisionandIchancedaglanceinhisdirection.

Thetitleread: Selected Works of Edgar Allan Poe

Henoticedmylessthanstealthyglanceandsmiledslightly. “DoyoureadEdgarAllanPoe?”

Ishruggednonchalantlyandturnedmyattentionbacktomycomputerscreen Coincidence “Isn’thesomehorror writer?”

Hechuckledquietly. “Hewrotealotofhumorousthingstoo. OneIcanthinkof,perhapsyou’veheardofit,I believeiscalled The System of Doctor Fether and Professor Tarr” Igrittedmyteethandcouldn’thelpcorrectinghim. “Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether.”

“Iknewyoureadhim,”hesaidwithabroadsmile “Youseemlikethetype”

Isighedinwardly,unabletoresistaconversationaboutEdgarAllanPoe. “Iwrotemyseniorthesisonhim. Hewas agenius.”

“Amanwiththatdepthofemotion,creativeingenuityandsheerbrainpower…brilliant. Simplybrilliant. Haveyou heardthathewasthefirsttocomeupwiththeideaoftheBigBangTheory?”

Asmilestretchedacrossmyface,despitemyattemptstostopit Icouldn’trememberthelasttimethathadbeena problemforme. “IneverthoughtI’dmeetsomeoneelsewhoknewthatabouthim.”

“Healsoneverwentby‘EdgarAllanPoe’,itwasalwayssimply‘EdgarPoe’,whichincidentallybringsustothe subjectofnames. I’mFrost.”

Iraisedaneyebrowandturnedtofacehimagain,shakingthehandheofferedme. Hishandwasaswarmandsoftas I’dremembereditfromthismorningandsentthesameweirdwarmththroughmyveins. “Poe. Doyouhaveafirstname, Frost?”

“Inevergobyit JustFrost Doyouhaveafirstname,Poe? Andisthenamecoincidence?”heaskedwithagrin Iansweredwithamuchsmallersmile. “Inevergobymyfirstnameeither. And‘Poe’ismyrealname,thoughof courseI’mquitesureit’snotfrombloodrelation Idon’thaveconnectionstoanyofhiscousinsandobviouslyI’mnotadirect descendant.”

Frostnodded,hiseyessortofmysterious,asifhewasfilingawayeverywordIsaidforfuturestudy. Hereleased myhandandlookedtomycomputer “So,whatareyouwriting?”

“Um…”Ihesitated,self-conscious. “Well,IsupposerightnowI’mworkingonanovel.”

Hiseyebrowsshotupandhechuckledinsurprise “You’rekidding” “No. AsidefrombeingaStarbucksbarista,I’manaspiringwriter.”

Frostsmiledandmetmygazeagain “That’sincredible,”hesaidhonestly “IwishIcouldwrite Ibetit’sniceto fallintosomeotherworld. Somethingcompletelyunderyourcontrol.”

Ifrownedslightly,intriguedbytheinsight. “Yes,”Isaidquietly. “Yes,Isupposeitis.”

Frost’seyeshadglazedslightly,asifhismindwasdriftingsomewhereelse,perhapssomewherelesspleasant With ablinkoftheeye,heshookitoffandsmiledcrookedly. “So,aboutthatdrink?”

Isighedandshookmyhead,badmemoriesofmyownracingthroughmymind “Idon’tdrink,actually Thankyou fortheoffer,though.”

“NeitherdoI Isuggesteditbecauseadrinkisfarlesspressurethandinner” Iswallowedhardandlookedtohimsadly. “I’mworkingtonight. Sorry.”

“Whenareyounotworking?”heaskedwithamischievousglintinhisicyeyes. “Isuspectyoudon’tsay‘yes’often, butyou’refartoointerestingformetogiveuponeasily”

Ismiledtightlyandsavedmywriting,thenloggedoffthecomputer. “Ican’t. Iworkfivenightsaweekandanyfree timeIhaveIneedtobewriting OtherwiseI’llneverpublishanythingandI’llbestuckatStarbucksforever” Istoodand pushedinmychair,awkwardlyavoidinghispiercinggazeasIsaid,“Ienjoyedtalkingtoyou,Frost. Itwasnicetomeetyou.”

Withthat,Iquicklysteppedaroundhim,wrappingmyarmsaroundmetoholdmyselftogether,andleftthelibrary, lettingtheice-coldwindsweepmeawaydownthecitystreet.

Ihatedtherestaurantbusinesswithapassion Notonlydidonehavetheolfactoryassaultofbleachandgreaseto contendwith,butforsomeonewhowasextremelyclumsy,arestaurantenvironmentwaslessthanideal. Furthermore,thereis averylargepercentageofthepopulationthatiswell-suitedforcustomerservice,includingasmallerportionthatisalways happyandhelpfulandthusidealforajoblikewaitingtables Butthenthereisalsoatinyportionofthepopulationthat consistsofindividualslikeme. Peoplemademeveryuncomfortableandwaitingtableswasnotagoodoccupationfor someonewhocouldnotholdaconversationwithanacquaintancemuchlessastranger

Afterstrugglingthroughtakinganorderfromatableoffive,threeofthemkids,Iputintheorderandleanedagainstone ofthekitchenwallsasthoughtoholditup. Ihadnotobviouslymessedanythinguptakingtheorder,buttheparentshadclearly beenhappyandreadyforgoodservicewhenIarrivedatthetableandbythetimeIhadleft,theywerereservedandalittle confused.

Thejobwasharshenoughonmyself-esteemandmynever-endingphysicalexhaustion,buttoaddtoitthesocial awkwardnessalwaysdredgedupmemoriesofhowIhadacquiredit. Ostracismwasoneofthosewordsthatmostkidsdonot pickupuntillatehighschoolorafter,butIhadknownitwellmanyyearsbeforethat Everyoneatschoolhadknownwhat happenedtomyfamily. Theirsuddenandcompletelyunexplainabledeathhadmadenationalheadlinesthankstoitsairofthe strangeandtragic. Pairedwithmyunforgettablelastname,Iwasforeverbrandedbymyfamily’sdeath,notjustinmyown scarredmind,butsociallynowaswell. Amongadults,thereactionwhentheyrealizedmyidentitywasusuallypityand unhelpfuladviceto‘helpmecope’. Amongmypeersitwasfear,discomfort,andfuelforteasing. Withvaguememoriesofmy familyplaguingmymind,Ineverhadachildhoodandwasalwaysthesortofpersonwhowasmuchmoremature,muchmore depressed,andmuchlessnaïvethanmypeers. Ididnothavethepatiencetolistentothemcomplainabouttheirparentstaking theirGameBoysawayor,lateron,refusingtobuythemnewcellphones Irarelytalkedtothemevenwhentheygavemea chanceto. Beingquietandindifferentwould’vebeenmorethanenoughtolabelmeasthescapegoat,butbeyondthat,Iloved readingandlearnedalotfromthebooksIpickedup. Americanstudentsaregenerallynotkindto“teachers’pets”.

Naturally,IwastorturedmercilesslyfromtheageoffouruntilIgraduatedandescapedtocollege,whereIwasfinally grantedacleanslate. Bythenthedamagehadbeendone,though. Ihadbeendeprivedofanysocialskills.

Catcallsandteasingrhymeswerenotwhathauntedmelongaftermyschoolyears,though Therewerefarcrueler spectersthatchasedandclawedaftermeendlesslythroughmywaitressingshiftsatthecasualrestauranttwoblocksfrommy apartment Throughoutthenight,Iwouldconstantlyfacethehorrorandawkwardnessoftryingtotakeordersandfailingto fakeenthusiasmoramiabilityintheprocess.

IrubbedmytemplestotryandforceNinaFaucett’smalignantvoicefrommyhead. Theloudmusicblastingthroughthe noisy,greasykitchenusuallymanagedtodrownoutherchantsof“Orphan”echoingthroughmymind,butnotalways She’d hadoneofthoseunforgettablevoicesthatcouldnoteverbeignored. Itwasloud,alwaysseemingtobouncethrougharoom likeanall-aroundspeakersystem,andhadaslightlyhigh,gratingpitch,combinedwithaneerie,faintlyvicioustone Itwas thesortofvoiceyouexpectedfromacharismaticpersonwhotorturedsquirrelsintheirbackyardasachild.

Gigi,mycoworkeratStarbucks,seemedtohavegottenallthegoodgenesintheFaucettfamily Nina,whowasmyage, waslikeascantily-cladbeastfromHell. IfonepersonIknewbesidesmyselfwassufferingfromsomekindofmental disorder,withoutasecondofhesitation,IwouldguessitwasNina. Shewastall,withflamingredhairandgreeneyesthat remindedmeofthewayIpicturedthecatfromPet Sematary,acombinationthatmadeherevenlookmentallyderanged She hadgraciouslybestowedthename“Orphan”uponmeandIkeptitthroughoutelementaryandmiddleschool. Byhighschool, mynamehadevolvedinto“Freak” Afewyearsback,Ihadreadinthepaperthatshe’dbeenchargedwithharassmentand batteryandhopedshewasspendinganinterludeinMarylandStatePenitentiary.

“Poe? Youokay,honey?”

Isighedandlookedup,smilinggrimlyattheheadwaitress,Janie. “Yeah. Headacheagain. I’mstartingtothinkit’sa clinicalproblem.”

Shelookeddownherthinnoseatme,darkeyespiercing EveryoneIspenttimearoundseemedtobeatleastsixinches tallerthanme,Janieinparticular. Shegrimacedandshookherheaddisapprovingly. “God,Poe,haveyouseenthosepoor eyesofyours? It’ssleepdeprivationthat’sgivingyouheadaches”

Sighingoncemore,Ilookeddownatmyshoes. “Maybe. I’lltrytogettosleepearliertonight. Maybethat’llhelp.”

“You’dbetter,”shesaid,onlyhalf-teasing. Withnothingfurther,shebalancedfourplatesofburgersonherarmsand flewlikeahawkouttothediningroom,shoutingordersenthusiasticallyasshewent. Irolledmyeyesatmyfoolishnessat standingstillwhenJaniewasworkingandrubbedmytemplesoncemore,thenhurriedbacktoworkbeforeanyoneelse lecturedme ItwasbadenoughthatIwasnevertippedwell,butnowitlookedlikemydispositionmightcostmetheentire job. Theproblemwasthatgoingtobedearlierdoesn’tcureinsomnia

WhenIgothomethatnight,IwearilychangedintopajamasandsoughtoutacanofCampbell’sTomatoSoup,dumping itscontentsandtherequiredcanofwaterintoasmallpotonthestove Mylegsandstomachmusclesachedfromtheeffortof runningamokinthediningroomforsixhoursandIhadbeentippedhorribly,asperusual. Therestaurantwasinthepartof Baltimorewhereyoucouldnotreallyexpectgoodtips,especiallyifyouwereabadwaitress.

Thebleakthoughtsofmylousyjobs,neitherofwhichIliked,broughtmymooddownevenfurtherandIelectedto mentallyreviewtheday,searchingforanythingworthdwellingon. AsIstirredthesoup,mymindwanderedoncemoreback toFrost Ibitmylipindistasteatthememoriesandtrieddesperatelynottothinktoobadlyofmyself,butitwasn’teasy

AsidefrombeinganEdgarAllanPoefanatic,FrostwasthesortofkindredspiritIhadneverthoughtI’dfind. He seemedtohaveanelementofdepthanddarkmemoriesthathedescendedintoonceortwiceinthecourseofour conversations. HemighthaveevenunderstoodwhatIhadbeenthrough…

Andthesteeldoorslammedshutagain.

Ihadturnedhimdownflat. Walkedawaywithoutsomuchasapartingglance,achanceforhimtorespondtomy abruptness. Baltimorewasnotasmallcity. ItwasanabsolutemiracleIhadseenhimmorethanoncethatdayandnotonethat wouldeverberepeated Iwouldneverseehimagain ForallIknew,hisnamewasn’tevenFrost

ThesoupbegantoseizeandconvulseinitspotandIremoveditfromtheburner.

Thenextmorningfollowedthesameroutineaseveryday. Iawoketoviciousnightmaresthreetimesinthecourseof thenight,earningmyselfanestimatedthreehoursorlessofgenuinesleep,andwasupbeforemyalarmwentoffatfive This time,IwalkedtoStarbucks,tootired,dejected,andon-timetobotherwithrunning. TheNovemberwindwhippedaroundme likeamaelstromandasIwalkeddowntheoccasionallyicysidewalkintheglowofthelampposts,Iworkedthecalculations inmyheadonwhatIowedthismonthinrentandtuitionpayments. Ineededanewcoat;asCarolhadalluded,thiswinterwas goingtobearealkillerandifIwantedtosurviveIwouldneedalittlemorethanajeanjacketandextrasweaters.

Gavinwasn’tkeenontalkingthatmorninganymorethantheoneprior. HejustgavemeaweirdStarTreksortofsalute asIrelievedhim,thenevacuatedthecoffeeshopatanear-run,histechnomusicblastingthroughhiseardrumsashewent. TherewereonlytwocustomersinthatmorningwhenIarrived,soIfishedoutmybatteredpaperbackcopyofJane Eyre from underthecounterandleanedagainsttheregistertoread. Thenoveleasilytransportedmetoabetterplace,theEnglish countryside,andtoaworldIcouldrelateto,couldempathizewith,and,aboveall,couldinhabitsafely Nomemoriesor nightmarescouldchasemeasfarasThornfieldHall.

WhenGigirelievedmeofmypostatnoon,therehadbeennoaccidentsresultinginscaldedhands. Therealsohadbeen nosignofFrost,whichdidn’tsurprisemeintheleast,butleftmewithastrangeandforeigntwistingfeelinginmystomach. Hehadajob,Iassumed. Clearlyyesterdayhadbeenafluke,ormaybehisdayoff.

IescapedStarbucksbeforeGigicouldcommentonmyhalfofapeanutbuttersandwichandtookoffforthelibraryata relaxedrun. Thebuildingsaroundme,thepeopleonthesidewalks,thecarszoomingalongthestreet,everythingmeltedaway asitalwaysseemedtowhenIran Therewasnothingbutthepoundingofmybatteredsneakersonthepavement,thebeatingof myheartinmyhead,thewhisperofmylungsworkinginmychest. Eventhefrostylamppostsandpavementseemedtofall away.

Thewarm,seductivescentoffresh-bakedbreadstoppedbothmythoughtsandmyfeetintheirtracksandIpausedatthe doorofasmallfamilybakery,hesitatingandthinkingofthemiserablehalfsandwichinmyjacketpocket. Afteralongminute ofinternaldebate,Iwalkedon,staringatthesaltscatteredacrossthesidewalkasItriedtofightoffthecrest-fallenfeelingthe lesslogicalsideofmewasdisplaying. IhadjustbeenthinkingtomyselfthatmorningthatIneededanewjacketandIdid, desperately Evennow,withoutthewindwhirlingaroundmeandthreateningtoblowmeover,myarmswerenumbwiththe cold. FreshbakerybreadwasnotaluxuryIcouldafford.

Iclimbedthestepsofthelibraryandhurriedthroughthedoors,breathingasighofcomfortandreliefasthewarmthof thebuildingandthesmellofbooksgreetedme Carolwasn’tatthefrontdeskandthatwasfinewithme Iwasn’treallyinthe moodforsmalltalkanyway. Ineededtowrite.

Throughoutmylife,Ihadalwayshadtheabilityandthegifttoescapeintobooks,whetherIwasreadingthemor writingthem. Writingwasbest,though,becauseitwaslikeadiary. PiecesofwhatIwasfeeling,theemotionsthatIspent eachdaydrowningin,foundtheirwayintomywritingandwouldoftenstaythere,lockedawayinmyflashdriveforalong time. Itwasasafehaven,anoasisinwhichIcouldfindrespitefromdailytrialsandwickedrecollections.

Ireachedthecomputerterminalsandloggedin,thenmadetoretrievemyflashdrivefrommyjeanspocket.

Myfingersfoundonlymyapartmentkeysandlint.

Panicsurgedthroughmeinstantly,overtakingmelikeadrug. Myeyeswentwideandmyheartracedinterror. Ididn’t haveasinglefileonthatflashdrivebackedup Allofmywriting,allofit,wasonthatflashdrivesaveforafewhard-copy print-outsandspiral-notebookdrafts. Thousandsofhoursofworkandpainwereonthatflashdrive. Itwasmylife,myticket tomydreamsofbeinganovelist,mydiary,mysoul Mysoulwasonthatdamnflashdrive Iloggedoffthecomputerandscrambled,nearlytippingovermychairintheprocess,tocheckalltheUSBportsonall theterminals Then,Icheckedallthedesks Icheckedthefloorallaroundmeandpanickedsomemore Tryingtocalmmyfranticpulse,Iboltedtothefrontdesk,interruptingthelibrariantherewithanothercustomerasI demanded,“Didyouseeaflashdrive? Ilostityesterday. Hasanyoneturneditin?”

Thelibrarianfrownedandshookherhead “No,miss Areyousureyoudidn’tjustmisplaceit?”

Ithoroughlycheckedallmyjeanspocketsandmyjacketpockets,pullingoutmycrushedsandwichandtossingitonthe deskintheprocess,failingtonoticeorcarethatthecustomerthelibrarianhadbeenhelpingwaslookingatmethewayhe wouldifIwasbarkinglikeadog.

“Maybeit’sathome,”Isaiddesperately,notfindingtheflashdrive Thelibrariannoddedurgently,clearlytryingtoget meoutofthebuilding,andIsprintedoutthedoubledoors,runningdownthestreetbacktowardsmyapartmentbuilding. PeopleonthesidewalkgavemedirtylooksandshoutedasIranintothem,butIhardlynoticed. Ineededtofindthat flashdrive

ThemusclesinmystomachandsideswerealreadyburningwhenIreachedthebuilding. BythetimeIhaddashedup thestairstothethirdfloor,myentiretorsowascrampingupandthemuscleswerequiveringwithstrain Atmyapartment door,Istruggledtofishmykeysoutofmypocket,then,asImadetopushthemintothelock,criedoutinpainandcrumpledto thefilthyhallwaycarpeting. Theflooringinvariouspartsofthebuildingreekedofvomitorurine,thisspotincluded,butI didn’tevennoticeitthroughthepaininmystomach. TearscametomyeyesandIblinkedhardtoforcethemback. Pulling myselfshakilytomyfeet,Iunlockedthedoorandlimpedin,massagingthecrampsoutofmymuscleswithmyfingersand knuckles ThepaineasedslightlyandIbegantofranticallysearchtheapartmentasIhadthelibrary Afternearlyanhourof endlesssearchingandnosuccess,Ihadtochokebacktearsagain,thistimeattheprospectofhavingtrulylostmyflashdrive andeverythingonitforgood WhenIhadfinallyregainedmycomposure,IrackedmybrainandsettledonStarbucks The flashdrivehadsurelyfallenoutofmypocketwhileIwasworking.

Idashedbackoutoftheapartment,pausingtolockthedooragainandjamthekeyinmyfrontjeanspocket,thenbolted downthestairs. Themusclesinmystomachthathadflaredupearlierbegantoscreamatmeinprotestonceagainandbythe timeIreachedthefrontdoorofthebuilding,Iwasgrimacinginpain.

Irubbedmystomachmusclesundermyjeanjacket,tryingtowillawaythecrampingandagony AsIwasfocusingon riddingmyselfofthepain,Islippedthroughthedoorsofthebuildingandimmediatelyslidonthefreshly-formedice. Fora fractionofasecond,panicfloodedmyveinsandIthoughtIwassurelygoingtobreakabonewhenIhitthepavement,butaset ofstrongarmslatchedaroundmyshouldersandsteadiedme. Whenmyfeetwerefirmlyonsolidpavementandmyheartrate hadslowed,Idisentangledmyselffromthestranger’sarmsandturnedtothankthem,onlytofindthatitwasnotastrangerat all Ijumpedinshockandnearlyslippedontheiceagain

Frosthelduphishandsinsurrenderandapology. “Ididn’tmeanto…startleyou. Sorry,”hestammered. Clearly,this wasn’tthemeetinghe’dplanned,whichmademewonderexactlywhathehadplanned Iblinkedandmythoughtscleared,pavingthewayforannoyanceanddisgust. “Whatareyoudoinghere?”Iasked bluntly “Youarestalkingme,aren’tyou?”

Frostwinced. “‘Stalking’isastrongword.” HeheldupafingertoaskmetowaitandIfrownedathimincredulously. Afteramomentofriflingthroughthepocketofhisleatherjacket,heproducedmyflashdrive. MyeyeswentwideandI snatcheditfromhishand,thentookastepawayprotectively “Whatwereyoudoingwiththat? Iwasinapaniclookingforit! Mylifeisonthatflashdrive!”Isnappedathim,accusinghimwithmyeyes.

Hesmiledslightly,hiseyessparklingteasinglyasheslidhishandsintohisjeanspockets “Youleftthelibrarysofast yesterdaythatIcouldn’tcatchuptoyoutogiveittoyou. YouleftitintheUSBport.”

“I ”Ihesitated Theterroroflosingmyflashdrivehadquicklysubsidedintoreliefandalternateconfusion “How didyoufindmehere?”

Frostraisedaneyebrowandthecornersofhismouthcurledintoagentlesmile. “Poe,yourfullnamewasoneach documentonthere Iusedaphonebook”

Myjawdroppedinalarm. “Youread my work?!”

Herolledhiseyesatthetone “Calmdown,willyou? Thisisn’tthatridiculous AndIdidnotreadit;Iknewyou’d beoffendedandself-conscious,soIjustlookedforyourname. WouldithavereallybeenbetterifIusedthepolicedatabaseto lookyouup?”

Feelingalittlelessviolated,Idecidedtolethimturnthisintoafull-blownconversation. “Whydoyouhaveaccessto thepolicedatabase?”Iaskedskeptically.

“BecauseI’macop,”heansweredwithabroadgrin. “Ihaveconnections.” Acop? Myguardinstantlywentupagain. IknewIwasinthedatabaseandthathecouldreadmywholelifestoryby lookingmynameup Attheclickofabutton,thismanwhoseemedstrangelyinterestedinmeandwasquitepossiblystalking mecouldreadallmydarkestsecrets. “Whatkindofcop?”

“Homicidedetective” Frostseemedtosensemyrenewedcoldnessandhissenseofhumorbegantomeltintoconcern Helookeddownattheiceawkwardly. “Um…thisisn’tsomethingInormallydo. Ihopeyourealizethat. I’madetective,not astalkeroraplayer Idon’tmeantoupsetorscareyou” Iwincedandturnedawayfromhim,clutchingatmycramping muscles. AsIfacedawayfromhim,Iletmyfeaturescontortinpainandgrittedmyteeth,tryingdesperatelynottoscreamat whatfeltlikeserratedknifesbeingdrilledintomytorso. “Ilookedupyouraddresstoreturnyourflashdrive. Iwashopingfor more,butIcanleaveifyouwantmeto Youwon’thearfrommeagain,”Frostcontinuedtoassureme,hisvoiceembarrassed anduncomfortable. Iwasn’tlisteninganymore,though. IwastoobusycalculatingwhetherIcouldwalktotherestaurantfor work,muchlessmakeitthroughmywholeshift Hell,I’dhaveahardenoughtimegettingbackupstairstomyapartmentonthe thirdfloor. Suddenly,IfelttheslightestweightofhishandonmyshoulderandIgrimaced. “Areyouokay?” “Fine,”Ihissedthroughmyteeth “I’mfine Pleasego”

Hedidn’t,though. Heremainedthere,hishandgentleonmyshoulder,hisbreathingtightwithconcern. “Lookatme.” Ishookmyheadmechanically,tryingtoswallowtheagonyevenasIattemptedtofakenormalcy. “Please,areyouokay?” He steppedaroundmetomeetmygazeandhishandtightenedonmyshoulderinalarm “Poe ”

“I’mfine,”Ihissedagain,tryingtocomposemyselfandignoretheworryinhisexpression. “Just…astomachache.”

“Youdidn’tevenreactwhenyoupouredscaldingcoffeeonyourhands Ifthisiscausingyouthismuchpain,it’snot normal. Youshouldgettoahospital.”

Iswallowedhardandmethisice-blueeyescoldly. “It’snormalformeandIdonotgotohospitalsforanything.” “JusttellmewhatIcando,then.”

Iwasabouttosnapathimagainandtellhimtogoaway,butthenIhesitated. Ineededtogetuptomyapartment,butI wasfairlycertainIcouldnotgettothestaircaseinmycondition,muchlessupthreeflightsofit Itwouldbeassimpleforme toclimbMountEverest. Ineededhelp. “Fine. Helpmegetupstairstomyapartment.”

Frostkepthishandtightonmyshoulderasweenteredthebuilding Iwasstillwalkingfairlynormallywhenwe reachedthestairwell,clutchingmystomachandhissinginpain,butuprightandmovingforwardofmyownvolition. Atthe baseofthestairs,Frostpausedtoaskme,“Whatfloor?”

“Third,”Imoaned,grittingmyteeth.

Helookeddownatmeinrenewedconcern. “Isn’tthereanelevatororsomething?”

Ichuckledgrimly,rollingmyeyesasIaskedhim,“WhatpartofBaltimoredoyoulivein?”

Herolledhisicyeyesinresponseandputhisarmaroundmyshoulderstosteadymeandhelpmestepup. Igrippedthe cold,thinrailandeasedmywayupthefirstflight,grimacinginpainasmymusclestightenedfurtherwiththeeffort Aswe reachedthesecondfloorlanding,Igroanedandgasped,“Stop,stop,hangon…”

Froststoppedimmediatelyandletmeleanbackagainstthegraffiti-stainedwall,bitinghislipinuncertaintyasIcaught mybreath “Yousaidthisisnormal?”

“Fairly,”Iresponded,myguardslowlyeasingbackup.

“Butwhatisitfrom?” Hiseyeshadnarrowedandseemedtopiercethroughmysoul IfelttransparentandIcould understandhowamanlikethis,youngashewas,couldbecomeasuccessfulhomicidedetective. Heseemedtobethesortof personwhocouldquicklycometoknowpeoplebetterthantheyknewthemselves Fromknowinghimoneday,Icouldseeall tooclearlythathewasbrilliantandwouldhavedonewellasalawyerorneurosurgeonifhewasn’tsosuitedtodetective work. “Caraccident,”Ilied. “IwasinacaraccidentwhenIwasseventeenandmystomachmuscleswerebadlytornup.”

Icouldtellbytheunwaveringsteadinessofhiseyesthathedidn’tbelieveawordIsaid,butafteramoment,the piercingexpressionliftedandasIseenhimdobefore,hefiledawaytheconversationforlaterstudy. “Areyouokay?”

Ihesitated,evaluatingthepainIwasinandwhetherIcouldmakeitupthesecondflightofstairsyet Afteramoment,I nodded. “Yeah.”

FrostreachedoutahandtomeandItookitgingerly,stillworriedaboutjusthowmuchhe’dseenthroughme Justhow muchdidheknow? DidIreallybelievehehadn’tlookedmeupinthepolicedatabase,hadn’tperusedmyfileattheBPD? Notremotely,butIknewtherewasnowayIcouldgettomyapartmentalonewithoutcollapsingandprobablyfallingdown thesestairs,breakingaboneorworse ThestairwellwasconcreteandIcouldveryeasilycrackmyskullopenifIfellback Heputhisarmaroundmyshouldersasbeforeandhelpedmemakemywayup,onestepatatime. Bytheeighthstep, nearthetop,mystomachwasclenchingasifsomethingwaschewingandtearingmymuscles MymindinstantlywenttoCujo andIactuallyglanceddowntomakesureIwasn’tdraggingaSt.Bernardupthestairsbyitsteeth. Therewasnotadogthere, ofcourse,butthepainwasgrowingunbearable. Itightenedmyeyesshutandwhimpered,mybreathingstoppingaltogetherin agony. “Poe?”Frostaskedquietly,worriedly. Beforehecouldsayanythingbeyondmyname,though,ashotofpainrippled throughmytorsoasifI’dbeenrippedinhalf. Iscreamedandmykneesbuckledbeneathme.

Frost’sarmslockedaroundmymidsection,catchingmeandeasingmedowntolieacrossthesteps. Ashekneltbeside me,sayingmynameoverandover,tryingtogetmetorespond,IwonderedvaguelyhowfardownthestairsIwouldhave fallenhadhenotcaughtme Fromthewaymylegsgaveoutbeneathme,IwouldnotbelyingifIsaidthatIwould’verolled backwardsandpossiblybrokenmyneck. ImoanedweaklyasanothershotofpainrackedthroughmeandFrosteasily,gently, shiftedmeontomybackandslidhisarmsbeneathme,liftingmeupandcarryingmeslowlyupthestairslikeasmallchild

Aswepassedthroughthethirdfloorstairwelldoor,Frostaskedme,“Whatnumber?”

Igroaned,tryingtoholdbacktearsasmyinsidesburned “Thirty-six”

AsFrosthurrieddownthehall,sayingtheapartmentnumbersoutloudashepassedeachdoor,hesaidurgently,“I’m goingtoneedyourkey.”

Weapproacheddoornumberthirty-sixandIgasped,“Putmedown I’llgetitmyself”

Frosteasedmetomyfeet,helpingmetoleanagainstthewallbesidethedoor. Igrippedandtriedtomassageoutthe crampsinmymuscleswithonehandand,withtheother,duginmyfrontjeanspocketforthekey Aftersomedifficultyand anotherwinceofpain,IproducedthelittlebronzekeyandhandedittoFrost. Hetookitimmediatelyandbeganstrugglingwith theaging,warpedlockasItightenedmyeyes,holdinginascream I’ve had worse, I’ve had so much worse

Frostfinallyshovedthedooropenwideandtookmyarm,helpingmeinandclosingthedoorbehindhim. “Doyou haveanypainmedicationsormusclerelaxants?”heasked,movingwithmeintothetinylivingareadirectlybeyondthe threshold Inoddedandhissed,“Kitchencupboard Bythefridge Idon’tneedwater” Frostreadjustedhisgrip,hisfingers tighteningonmybarehand,sendingwarmthacrossmyskin. Iavoidedshiveringatthetouchandhehelpedmetoaseatonthe couch,thenrushedbackintothekitchen,flingingopentheindicatedcupboard Thecupboarddoorslammedagainstthe adjacentfridgewitharesoundingcrack andifIwasn’tinpain,Iwouldhavegivenhimhellforbreakingmyfurniture. He mutteredsomethingtohimselfashesoughtoutthepainmedicationandIrealizedtoolatejusthowfullmymedicinecabinet wasofvariouspainkillers,anti-depressants,sleepingpillsandmyoldPTSDprescriptions. Iturnedslightly,tryingtoseehim fromwhereIsat,butbeforeIcouldcranemyneckfarenough,he’dreturnedwiththeindicatedbottle. Handsshakingatnot onlythepainnow,butalsoshameateverythinghemusthaveseeninthecabinet,Istruggledtoprythelittleorangecontainer openandshakethreepillsintothepalmofmyhand. Withouthesitating,Itossedthembackandswallowedtheminstantly,then gavehimbackthecappedbottle Heplaceditsilentlyonthebook-covered,shabbycoffeetablebeforeusandsatbesideme onthecouch.

Istudiedmyhandsonmystomachcarefully,lettingmydarkhairfallforwardasacurtainbetweenhiseyesandmyred face. ShamepollutedmymindandIthoughtofthewaterstainsontheceiling,thepeelingwallpaper,thewarpeddoor,the creakingfloorboards,themoldIhadtriedandfailedtokillbeneaththekitchensink. Andthismanhadassumedmybuilding wouldhaveanelevator HehadmoneyandwasprobablylookingatmerightnowasifIwashomeless,butadditionally,he wasprobablyjudgingmebasedonthosemedications. Therewerealotofopium-derivativesinthatcupboard;addictive, dangerouspainkillersandanti-anxietymedications Anti-depressantsmeanttotreatPost-TraumaticStressDisorder The heaviestsleepingpillsdoctorscanlegallygiveout. WhatdidIlookliketohim? HeprobablythoughtIwasinsane,addicted toopium,anddirt-poor. Disgusting,nodoubt. WhyhadIlethimin? WhyhadIlethimhelpme? Icouldhavemadeitupthe stairsmyselfeventually AndIcertainlycouldhavedismissedhimassoonaswereachedmyapartmentdoor WhathadIbeen thinking?

Frostgentlytouchedmyhandwiththetipsofhisfingersandimmediatelysomeofthetensionfellaway Mymind raced. Therewasnowayhecouldnothaveseenwhatelsewasinthatmedicinecupboard. Therewasnowayhewasnot judgingmeevenashetouchedmyhand Tojudgewashumannature Whythen,washe touchingme? Reassuringme? Comfortingme?

“Whyareyoustillhere?”Iasked,myvoicenumbwithconfusion.

Frostdidn’tsayanythingforalongmoment,finallyreplying,“Doyouwantmetogo?”

Ithoughtaboutit;thiswasmychancetoaskhimtoleave,togethimoutofmylifeandfarawaywherehecouldn’tdo meanymoreharm Ididnotwanttogethurtagainandhewouldsurelydojustthat So,whydidtheimageofhimwalkingout thatdoorfrightenmeso? “No,”Ifinallyanswered. “Thenwhydoyouask?”

Iliftedanowtear-streakedfacefrommyhandstolookathim. Hiseyesweremoltenice,concernandworryalivein them,drowninganytraceofjudgment,ifitwereevenpresentatall. “BecauseIdon’tunderstandwhyyou’dwanttostay.”

Hefrowneddeeply,somethinghauntedstirringwithinhimatmyanswer “Because ”hehesitated,thensaid, “BecauseIcare,Poe. Whywouldn’tIstay?”

Iblinked I’dneverheardanyonesaythosetwowordstogetherinmylife I care Iimaginedinmymindhiswarm voicerepeatingthewords“Icare”overandover,thesweetwaytheyrolledoffhistongue,likewater. Hebarelyknewmeand we’dscarcelyspoken. Noonecaredaboutme,notevenmyfosterparents. Howcouldanyofthispossiblymakeanysense? Howcouldhetrulywanttohelpsomeonelikeme? Whatwouldhisrewardbe? Hetiltedhishead,puzzledbysomethingI’d givenawayinmyexpression. “Whatisit?”

Ishookmyheadslowly,tearssilentlyfallingovermycheeks. “It’snothing,I’mjust…notusedtobeingcaredfor. EspeciallybysomeoneIonlyjustmet.”

Frostsmiledwarmly,briefly,andthentheconcernreturnedtohiseyes Heglanceddownatmyafflictedmuscles, concealedastheywerebymysweaterandjeanjacket,thenreturnedhisgazetomyeyes. “Better?”

Igrittedmyteethagainstanotherspasmofpain “Alittle Ittakesawhiletotakeeffect” Ileanedheavilyagainstthe softcushionsofthecouch,tryingtorelaxmanually. “Thankyou,Frost. Idon’tknowhowtorepayyou.”

Helookeddownathishandsonhisknees “It’snotreallythesortofthingIaskpaymentfor” “Notforhelpingmeupstairs,”Iclarified. Hemetmyeyesagaininpuzzlement. “Fornotjudgingme.”

Hiseyesnarrowedinfinitesimallyandsomethinggrimandknowingflickedacrossthem. “Idon’tjudgepeoplebytheir scars That’sanotherthingIdon’taskpaymentfor”

Ifrownedandbegantostudyhim. TherewasadepththatIhadrecognizedearlierasprofoundintelligenceinhiseyes, butitwasmorethanthat Hiseyesweretheeyesofsomeonewhohadseensomethingtheyshouldn’thave Ihadcometo knowmanycops,doctors,andpsychologistsasaresultofmydarkpastandI’dseenthingssimilar,butnotlikeFrost. Those eyesofmoltenicewereundeniablyhaunted,notsodifferentfromthedarkbrowneyesIknewfromthemirror “You’renot likemostpeople,Frost.”

Somethingaboutthelineofhisjawbecameguardedandinaneeriesortofmoment,Irecognizedwhatmyexpression mustoftenlooklikewhenpeopleaskedmequestionsIdidn’twanttoanswer Itwasstrangebeingontheothersideofasteel doorslammingshut. “Icouldsaythesameaboutyou,Poe.”

“Iknow,”Isaid,myvoicesoftandcautious Ifeltlikethisyoungmanwiththestrangeblueeyeswasnotsucha strangeranymore. ItnolongerseemedimportantthatIdidnotknowhisfirstname. Iknewthathewasmuchmorelikemethan heleton,that,perhaps,hewasalmostasbrokenasIwas. Ihesitated,thewheelsturninginmymindasIcontemplatedwhatto donow. Fearcurledaroundmelikeblacksmoke,chokingmeandreplacingtheoxygeninmyveins,pumpingdeathintoevery oneofmycells. Icouldn’tbreatheoutoffearasthetensionintheroomgrew.

Hewasonlyinchesfromme Ihadn’trealizedituntilnow,buthiskneewasalmosttouchingmine,hisshoulderswere twistedtofacemehead-onandhischestwasonlyaboutfourinchesfrommyshoulder. Hisarm,drapedoverthebackofthe couch,wasevencloser Therewasthesoft,warmscentofhisskinandagentlebutintoxicatingcologneintheair Itwasquiet andanythingbutimposing,almostlikethenearlynon-existentbutsweet,warmscentofcookiedough,anditmademystomach acheinanot-unpleasantway. Hisface,thosebrillianteyes,thosesoft,gentlelips,couldonlybesix,perhapsseveninches frommyown. Iwantedhimtokissme,toholdmyhand,towrapthosestrongarmsaroundme. Iwantedhislipsonminemore thanI’deverwantedanything. IhadonlymethimyesterdayandIwantedeverythingabouthim.

Andyet

Thatfear,thatsmoke,chokedme,drownedme,wassuffocating,killingme. Icouldfeelitintheair,hot,chalky,and whollytangiblearoundme Inmyhead,Icouldhearmaliciouslaughter,thecacklingIknewonlytoowellfrommymostawful nightmares.

TearsroseinmyeyesagainandIturnedawayfromhim,stillnotbreathing,tryingtohidemyterroratthethoughtof wantinghim “Poe?”hewhispered,hisvoiceliketheflutteringofafeatherthroughaspringbreeze “Areyousureyou’re okay?”

Iswallowedhard,tryingtobottlemyemotionsbackupagain “Fine Sorry,”Isaidtightly Igrimacedasmystomach crampedbackupwiththetensioninmychest. Mythin,bonyfingersclenchedintofistsandIdugthemintomytorso,tryingto ruboutthepainevenasImarveledathowtinymyhandshadgotten Myhandshadalwaysbeenverysmall;Mrs Aaron,my foster-mother,likedtoclaimtheywerecherubic. Butinthepastseveralyears,theyhadgottensothinthatmyknucklesstood outandthejointslookedalmostarthriticIwassothin. Vaguely,IwonderedhowmuchweightIhadlostsinceI’dbeenbroken thelasttime Irefusedtogotoadoctoranddidn’townascale IimaginedIhadlostaroundtwentypounds,though,andthere reallyhadn’tbeenmuchofmetolosetobeginwith.

Suddenly,warmthfelluponmyclenchedfistsandIfroze,staringdownthroughmytearsatFrost’shandscuppingmine Afteralongmoment,Imethisgazecautiously,fearfully. Therewasnothingbutsadnessandsympathyinthosemolteneyes. NohurtthatIwaspushinghimaway,nofearofwhoImightbe,nopityforwhatheguessedhadbeendonetome,nogentle distanceasheplannedwhichpsychologisttorefermeto. Heknewmorethanhedeserved. Amanthatinherentlygooddidnot deservetounderstandandsympathizewithmypain. Hedidn’tdeservesomethingthatawful. “WhatcanIdo?”hewhispered. Ishivered Thewarringsidesofmysoul,thesidethatwantedlifeandthesidethatwantedsafety,wereburningme aliveinside. Ididn’tknowwhatIwanted. Ididn’tknowwhatIneeded. Ididn’tknowanything.

“I’llstayuntilyouaskmetoleave Iwon’taskanyquestions Iwon’tsayanythingunlessyouwantmeto,”hevowed seriously,tryingtoreassureme. Inoddedmutely,stillscared,stillmortifiedatthesideofmethathewasseeing. Nooneknew thispartofme. Notevenmyfoster-mother. Ididn’tletanyoneseethis,ever.

So,wejustsatthereinsilence,Frostfacingforwardnow,hisspikedblondhairleanedbackagainstthecouch,hisblue eyesshut. Myheartbeatuncontrollablywiththeremainingfear,theremnantsofmynightmaresstillechoingthroughmyhead,

butslowly,gradually,mypulsebegantoslowtoamoreevenrhythm. Gradually,thefearandconfusionceased.

OnceIwascertainthatmysanitywasnolongerinjeopardy,Iaskedhimtimidly,“Soyou’reahomicidedetective?”

“Mm-hm,”heintoned,notopeninghiseyesyet DespitehowderangedhenodoubtthoughtIwas,heseemedperfectly atease,almostonthevergeoffallingasleep. “Doesthatbotheryou?”

“No,”Ifrowned “Doesitbotherotherpeople?”

Heshruggednonchalantly. “Itbothersmyfamily. Mostofthemarejustworriedaboutme,asifI’mchasingkillers withoutaserviceweapon”

“Most? Notall?”

Hismouthtightenedwithdispleasureatthethought. “Myfatherwantedmetobeasurgeon,likehim. Iwasalways goodinschool Smart,Iguess HeinsistedIwoulddowellinmedicalschoolandbeassuccessfulashim Isaidthatsmart peoplemakegoodhomicidedetectivestoo. HewishesI’dchosendifferently.”

“Doyoustilltalktohim?”

Henoddedvaguely. “Icomehomeonceaweekfordinnerasafamily. Wesmall-talk,butthat’sall. There’salways thisunderlyingtension He’skindofpassive-aggressive”

“I’msorry.”

“Don’tbe. I’mnot. I’mhappyasadetective.” Frostsmiledjokinglyandopenedhiseyestolookatme,theblueicein themsparkling “Whataboutyou,MissPoe? DidyourfamilytellyoutherearebetterthingsthanStarbucksandalibrary computer?”

IfeltthemusclesinmyjawtightenandIbitmytonguetoholdbackawince “Actually,myfoster-parentstoldme thingslikethatmany,manytimes.”

Thetensionimmediatelyexplodedoncemorearoundus. Frosthesitated,thensaid,“I’msorry. Ididn’tmeantopry. I won’taskifyoudon’twanttotellme.”

Ishrugged,feigningnonchalance. “It’sbeenalongtime. WhenIwastwo,myfamilydiedandleftmetomymother’s goodfriendandherhusband Thereisn’ttoomuchtotell”

“Caraccident?”

Iswallowedtocomposemyselfand,afteramoment,Imethisgazesteadilyandreplied,“Unnamedfataldisease My motherdiedfirst,butbeforeshewent,itpassedtomyfather,brotherandsister. TheywereallgoneinthecourseofChristmas week. IthoughteveryoneinBaltimoreknewthestory. Honestly,it’snicetobeprovenwrong.”

Hefrowneddeeply. “Yousurvived?”

Iturnedaway,shruggingoncemore. “IguessIwasneverinfected. Atwo-year-oldcouldn’tpossiblyhavethestrength tofightsomethinglikethatoff”

AmomentofsilencefellinwhichIcouldfeelthoseeyesofmoltenicepeeringrightthroughmyprotectiveshell, readingmeforwhatIreallywas,seeingintomysoul “Ithinkthatsomepeoplearestrongerthanwecouldpossiblyimagine Somepeoplesurviveeverything.”

Icouldfeelmyhandsshaking,butIhadnocontroloverthem. “Ithinkyou’reright,”Iwhispered.

Hiseyessoftened,turningwarmandsad Cautiously,asifafraidIwouldeitherrunawayorbreak,heraisedahand andever-so-gentlytouchedmycheekwithhiswarmfingertips,brushingawaytheremnantsoftears. “Poe…”hewhispered softly

Iswallowedhard,tryingtonoavailtosteadymyquiveringvoice. “ImetyouatStarbucksyesterday. Idon’teven knowyourfirstname”

“It’sCaleb.”

“Caleb,then. But,still,youdon’tknowmynameeither.”

“It’sPoe ElenoraAllisonPoe,”hemutteredsoftly “Remember? Istalkedyou”

Ichuckledgrimly. “Ah,yes. Veryreassuring.”Ihesitated,staringintothoseeyesandwishingtoGodthatIcouldjust fallintothem “Frost,Idon’ttrustpeople NotjustpeopleIdon’tknow,butanyone” “Whynot?”

HisthumbstrokedmycheekbonesoftlyandIshiveredattheall-toowelcometouch “Becauseinmylife,I’velearned thatpeoplearealmostneverworthyoftrust. You’reacop. Thereareterriblepeopleeverywhereandyouknowit.” “DoyouthinkI’mterrible,Poe?”

Ihesitatedandlookeddownatmystill-clenchedfistsinshame,thecolorrisinginmycheeks “Idon’tknow I’ve neverknownanygoodpeople. Myfoster-mothercameclose,butshewasneverstrongenoughtobegood.”

Frostsighedsoftly,hisbreathwarmonmyface “There’smoretolifethanrunningfromnightmares”

“Thatdependsonthenightmaresyouhave,”Iwhispered,myvoicelikebrokenglass. Istoodupfromthecouchand turnedawayfromhim,wrappingmyarmsaroundmyselfasIhadinthelibrarythedaybefore,holdingthepiecesofme togetherasthetearsreturnedtomyeyes. IheardFrosteasetoastandfromthecouch,thentakeseveralslow,measuredsteps towardsme. Asmybodyshudderedwithpent-upemotion,Frostrestedhiswarmhandonmyupperarm,standingasteportwo

behindme. Myfacecontortedintoagrimacehecouldn’tsee. “Promisemesomething?”heaskedquietly,sadly.

“Idon’tmakepromises,”Igasped,myemotionslikeatidalwavereadytobreakdownadam.

“Thisonewillneverhurtyou”

ThewordscutthroughmelikeaknifeandIlookedovermyshoulderathim,composingmyfeaturesasmuchasIcould beforehand Ishudderedattheoverwhelmingunderstanding,concernand somethingunidentifiableinhiseyes “What?”I asked,thequestioncomingoutlikeasurrender.

Frosthandedmeatinyscrapofpaperwithhisnameandcellphonenumberscrawledonit “Callmeifyouneedhelp IwillanswerandIwillcomeifyoueverneedme. Foranything.”

Itookthenumberandstudiedhiminconfusion. “Whyareyoudoingthis?”

Histhumbsoftlystrokedmyarmonce,thenhewithdrewhishandandreplied,“Becauseyou’reworthhelping,Poe” Ididn’thaveanythingtosaytothat. Istoodthereinnumb,frozenshockasFroststeppedaroundmetothedoor,looking backtomeasheopenedit “Imeanit,”hesaid,thefullhonestyandurgencyinhiseyesmorepowerfulthananyothermeasure he’dtakentohelpme.

Thedoorfellshutafterhimandintheoverwhelmingsilenceofthetinyapartment,Istareddownatthephonenumberin shockandawe.

BythenextdayIhadfullyrecoveredfromtheembarrassingincidentwithmymuscles,butnotfromhowIhadhandled Frost Therewassomuchmoretohimthanheleton Ihadseenitinhiseyesyesterdaywhenhe’dtoldmethatsomepeople surviveeverything. Thatdepth,thatdarkness,thatpainandundyingunderstandinginhisicyblueeyesheldtheweightofthe world Therewerefewpeopleouttherethatknewthedarkersidesoftheworldthatwell Iwasoneofthem And,itseemed, Frostwasanother.

Theproblemwasthatthedarkpiecesoftheworldcouldbuildsomepeopleupandtearothersdown. Istillwasn’t surewhichhadbeendonetome. Somepeoplegrewstrongerasaresultofthetrialstheyfaced,butotherswerebrokenby them,evendriveninsanebythem.

NinaFaucettwasofthesortthatIsuspectedhadamedicalconditioncausinghermadness Shehadbeenderangedand cruelaslongasI’dknownher,datingbacktopreschool. Irememberedrumorscirclinginhighschoolthatshetookpillsand mostpeoplehadassumedshediddrugs,butmyguesswasthattheywereprescriptionsforapsychologicaldisorder Other people,though,becamemadbecauseoftheawfulthingstheysaw.

I’dknownonevictimofacquiredmadness.

LexRydenor,myboyfriendofabouttwoweeksinmyjunioryearofhighschool,hadbeenhorrificallyabusedbyhis motherasachild. Hehadnevertoldmeoranyoneelsethat,butIcouldinferit. Frommyexperiencedelvingintocharacters withmywriting,Ihadagoodunderstandingofhowpeopleworked Thewayshehadtreatedhimasachildhaddrivenhimnot onlytohatewomen,buttobecomephysicallyviolent. Lex’smotherhadturnedhimintoamonster.

IshookmyheadviolentlytoclearitasIwalkeddownthecoldBaltimorestreet,tryingdesperatelytoridmybrainof Lex. HewasthelastthingIneededonmymindrightthen.

Itookaturnintoasubdivision,ararehigh-classsectionofthecity,completewithfancystreetlamps,cobblestone sidewalks,andmonstrousrowhouseswithtinylawnsgroomedtoperfection TheHeightswasthesortofneighborhoodthat egotisticalbusinessmen,likeJonathanAaron,adoredandflauntedtheirhousesin. Itwasalsothesortofneighborhoodthat waseerilyquietduringthedaylikethis,whenvirtuallyeveryinhabitantsavemyfoster-motherwasoffatwork

IcametotheAaron’srowhouse,slippingthroughthewroughtirongateandsteppingquietlyupthestonewalkwaypast flowerbedsthathadbeenimmaculateuntiltheweatherkilledthem Thelittlegardensreekedofdeath,theoverpowering stenchofwiltingandrottingflowersoverwhelming. Atthemassive,whitecolonialdoor,Irangthedoorbellandgrittedmy teethasthereviledgoofysongIhadtriggeredplayedthroughoutthehouse. Theuniquedoorbellwasoneofmanythingsthat broughtbacknauseatingmemoriesofmychildhood,ifitcouldevenbecalledthat Irubbedmyfingerstokeeptheblood movinginthemdespitethecoldandleanedagainstthewidedoor,waiting. Afterashortwhile,therewasanominous bang followedbyablood-curdlingscreamfromwithin MyeyeswidenedinshockandIknockedsharplyonthedoor,mypulse quickeningatthoughtsofmytinyfoster-motherbeingshotbyaburglar. JustasIwasbeginningtothinkshewasdead,theicy silenceoftheneighborhoodwasshattered. “Door’sopen!”sheshoutedfromwithinthehouse.

Irolledmyeyes. IenteredthehousegingerlyasIcalled,“Mrs.Aaron? Everythingalright?” “Poe? Comehelpmewiththis!”shereplied,soundingmildlydistressed. Irolledmyeyesagainandfollowedher voicetowardsthekitchen Mrs Aaronwastheepitomeofanaverage,middle-aged,pudgydamselindistress Thegreatestof thevillainsconspiringagainstherwashermom’slasagnarecipeanditseemedlikeeverytimeIvisitedherIhadtohelpher cleanupthekitchenfollowinganotherexplosionorsimilartragedy

WitheverystepItookintothewhite,ice-coldhouse,mystomachtwistedmoreandmore. Everyperfectly-polished cherryfloorboard,everyflawlessly-placedflowerarrangementscreamedmyfoster-father’sobsessivecompulsiverantsback atmefrommymemories. Icouldhearhimshoutingatmefromacrosstheyears,couldfeelhislargehandsbruisingmy shouldersasheshookmebythem.

Uponenteringthekitchen,Ifrozeinthedoorwayandlookedaround,wide-eyed Mrs Aaronwasstandinginthe middleofthekitchen,coveredinsuspicious-lookingredgoo. Theredwascoveringnearlyeveryinchofthekitchen,including andcertainlynotlimitedtothefloor,ceiling,wallpaper,counters,potsandpanshangingabovetheisland,fridge,sink,and cookbookonthebar. Themicrowavedoorwasopenandsmokewaspouringoutofit,alongwithmorereddrippingfromthe darkabyss. IraisedmyeyebrowsandgrabbedawetdishclothtousetomoptheredoffMrs.Aaron’sface. Uponcloser observation,Iconfirmedmysuspicionsthattheredwastomatosauce “Mrs Aaron,you’renotsupposedtoputlasagnainthe microwave. Didyouuseametalpantoo?”

Sheshruggedsheepishly “Ithoughtitwouldbequickerthantheoven IguessIforgotaboutthepan DoIownany glassones?”

Ismiledjustalittle WhileitwasapaintocleanupafterMrs Aaron,occasionslikethishadbecomealmost endearingtome. “They’reinthecupboardnexttothestove,rightbelowthesilverwaredrawer.”

“Well,thatexplainsalot. Inevergointhatcupboard.”

IshookmyheadandgottheworstofthesauceoffMrs.Aaron’sarms,thenhandedanewragtoher. Grabbinga magazineoffthebartofanthemicrowavewith,Ipeekedinside. Sureenough,therewasthecrematedlasagnaandblackened pan Isighedandgrabbedtwoovenmittstoremovetheremainswithandsetthepanonthestovetop Mrs Aaronlookedover atitandwincedbeforereturningtohermissionwipingoffthekitchenisland.

“Maybeyoushouldjustavoidlasagna Youcouldcooksomethingelse likethattacosaladthingyouusedtomake Thatwasusuallygood,”Isuggestedinvain. Iknewshewouldnotconsent,butitwasalwaysworthatry.

Predictably,Mrs Aaronshookherheadwithadeterminedsharpness Withhershort,lumpyfigureandfluffy strawberryhair,shewasnotanoverlyformidableforcetoreckonwith,butshewasentertaining. “No. Ihavetogetthis right!”shesnapped,hervoicefirm,buttoohighandflighty-soundingtobethreatening. IfIcoulddescribeMrs.Aaronusingan animalimage,shewouldbeamouse

Isighed. Shestillhadn’tgottenthelasagnarightafterholdingtherecipeforfifteenyears. Ofcourse,forthefirstfew yearsshehadbeentooscaredtotry Now,shewagedhercrusadeonaregularbasis,trashingthekitchenalmostweeklyand poisoningthefoolishtest-taster. Obviously,noonehaddiedyet,butitwasonlyamatteroftime. Formyownpart,Ihoped JonathanAarondiedofsalmonellapoisoning

Unlikemyfoster-father,Ireallydidlikemyfoster-mom. Mrs.Aaronwassweetandcertainlyamusing,hare-brained,in aword. Shewasalwayskindanddotingtome,thoughsheneveronceturnedonherhusband. Ihadneverevengottenapretzel outofherbetweenmeals However,takingcareofhergavemesomethingtodoasabreakfromworkandwriting

AsIhelpedMrs.Aaronscrubthevariouskitchencountersandwalls,Ibegantonoticethatsomethingwasnotright. Shewasdroppingthings,actingevenclumsierthanusual TwiceInoticedherdropherdishclothandoncesheletapanfall fromthehangingrackabovetheisland,causingacrashrivalingthevolumeofagunshot. Ifrownedandbeganwatchingher moreclosely. Shewasshootingglancesatme,theclockabovethestove,andthehallleadingtothegarage. Iswallowedhard, feigninganindifferent,controlledtone. “So,what’snew?”

“Oh,notmuch. Sameold,sameold,astheysay,”sheanswered,hervoiceanxious.

“AndhowisMr Aaron?”

Shedroppedasecondpanandscrambledtoretrieveit. Asshestretchedoutherarmtosnatchitfromthehardwood floor,hersleevepulledupslightlyandmyeyeslockedonthepurplishbruiseringingherwristlikeamanacle Shechuckled quietly,everythingaboutheralie,andsaid,“Oh,Iwouldhardlyknow. He’salwaysworking,youknow.”

“Right,”Iconcurred,thewheelsturninginmyheadasIwipedlasagnaremainsfromtheover-stockedliquorcabinet. “Hedoesn’tknowI’mvisitingtoday,doeshe?”

“Oh,no! Ofcoursenot!”Mrs.Aaronsquealedsharply. Shewasshakingfromthetopofherpoofyhairtohertinyfeet. MypulsebegantoquickenagainandIfoughttokeepmyvoicemeasured “Because,youknow,hedoesn’tlikethatI visityouwhenhe’snotaround.”

Myfoster-motherturned,tryingtomoldherfaceintoaninnocentsmile Theinnocenceandnaivetywereeasily achieved,butnotthesmile. “Whatwouldgiveyouanidealikethat?”

Ihalf-smiledgrimly. “Becauseifthatfrontdooropenswhenhe’snotaround,eventobringthemailin,muchlesshis despisedfoster-child,hegoesintoatailspin That’swhathedoesbest,isn’tit?”

Mrs.Aaron’seyeshardenedever-so-slightlyandshesaidsharply,“Poe,yourfatherisagoodmanwhohasalways providedwellforthisfamily He’salwaysbeengoodtous”

Mybloodbegantoboilbeneathmyskin. “Firstofall,”Ibegan,myvoicelikeice,“Hehasneverbeenmyfather. Second,thishasneverbeenmyfamily Andlastly,yourhusbandhasneverbeenagoodman”

Thehurtregisteredinmyfoster-mother’stinyhazeleyesbeforeIhadevenfinishedmylastaccusation. Thetears pooledinhereyesastheyscreamedatme, I tried! He was a good man once! I tried! Shelookeddownatherred-stained shoesinsadnessandIdidthesameinshame “Mrs Aaron,I’msorry Thatwasn’tfair”

“Ilovedyourmother,Poe. Shewasmybestfriend.” Shemetmygaze,thetearsfallingslowlyandsteadilynow. “I knewIwasn’tgoingtobeabletoreplaceher,especiallyafter afterJonathanstarted drinking” Sheswallowedhardand saidsoftly,“ButIalwayslovedyoulikeadaughter,Poe. Ialwaystried.”

Now,thetearscametomyeyes “ThenwhydidyoutellMr AaronI’dbeheretoday?”

Almostoncue,Icouldheartherumblingofthegaragedoorlikeahungrybeastandthesquealoftiresashespuninto thedriveway. Myhandsbegantoshakeinangerandfear,butIstoodmyground,refusingtoallowmyselftoflee. Mrs.Aaron, ontheotherhand,panicked,hereyesgoingwideandherfistsclenchedtogetherasshepleadedwithme “Poe,pleasego I canexplainanothertime,justpleasego!”

Asalways,Mrs Aaron’sfearcamebeforeherloveforme Asalways,whatstrengthshehadtobeameasureofa motherformewastoolittleandtoolate. Thedoortothegarageattheendofthehallburstopen,thepaneslammingintothe wallandthehandleburstingthroughtheplasterwitharesoundingka-chunk Thedoorstophadbeenbrokenforyears. Iturned slowly,purposefully,tofacemyfoster-fatherandwatchedashestormedtowardsme,hisfacebeet-red,andhissuitjacketand tieflowingbehindhimlikeDracula’scloak. “ELENORA!”heroared.

Thesightofasix-footthree,two-hundredpoundmanwithademoniclookinhiseyesisenoughtosendmostpeople running,butitwasasightIwasusedto. Istoodmyground,plantingmyhandsonmyhipsandlettingthemusclesinmyjaw tightenlikesteel Myfoster-fathercametoafuriousstoprightbeforeme,grabbingmeforcefullybytheshoulderwithone handandusingtheother,theoneadornedbytheringthathelovedmorethanhiswife,topunchmeclose-fistedinthemouth. I heardmyneckcrackwiththeforcethatmyheadspunbackwithandIstaggered,butstaredbackupathimdefiantlyafteronlya moment’srelief. Ignoringthewarmththattoldofblooddrippingfrommymouth,Isaidcoldly,“Goahead,hitmeagain. You’vegottenusedtohittingwomenovertheyears Iexpectnoless”

Heroaredatmeunintelligiblyandshovedmetotheside. Ifellbackagainstoneofthebarstools,turningitoverand topplingtothefloor. Myheadrappedagainstthehardwood,soundingeerilylikehehadthrownastonepotonthefloorand sendingfunny-coloredsplotchesfloatingacrossmyfieldofvision “Youhavenorighttobehere!”heshouteddownatme “Youarenotwelcome! Iwillnotpermityoutoharassmywifeanylonger.”

Ilookedupfromthefloorathim,myvoiceincreasinglyvenomousasIsnarledbackathim,“Youarepathetic You thinkyou’resodamnhighandmightybecauseyoucanbeatupagirllessthanhalfyoursizeandthreatenyourwifewhenshe cooksthewrongmeal Well,I’vegotnewsforyou, Daddy You’renotsotoughwhenyou’vegotnobodythat’llletyoupush themaround. You’rejustasickcoward. I’dlovetoseeyoutrytocontrolsomeonewithabackbone.”

AsIsaidthelastfewwords,Ishovedthebarstooloffofmeandmadetoscrambletomyfeet,butonlymadeitdizzily tomykneesbeforeaperfectlypolishedleathershoeconnectedwithmyside,emittingasharp crack, andsentmesprawling again,gaspingandclutchingatmyribs. “Youstupid, ungrateful little BITCH!” heshouted.

DimlyIcouldhearMrs Aaronsobbing,butshewouldn’tprotectme,andIdidnotexpectherto Ihadearnedthis,but itwasworthit. Thebloodylip,brokenribandconcussionwereallworthstandinguptohim.

Mr.AarongrabbedmywristandIwincedasheyankedmetomyfeet. Shakingwithfury,hedraggedmetothe basementdoor,threwitopen,andheldmeinchesfromhimonthetopstair. HiseyesblazedlikewindowsintoHellitself,if Hellwereblue. IthoughtofDante’sdescriptionoftheninthcircleofHellasfrozenover. Formylastshowofdefiance,Ispat inhisfaceandasked,“Howdoesitfeelnottobefeared?”

Grimacingandleeringlikesomekindofenragedbeast,Mr.Aaronwipedthespitoffhisfaceandscreamedatme,“For whatIcare,youcanjoinyourdamnedparentsinHell!” Then,hehookedmyanklewithhisleathershoeandshovedme, trippingmeback…

…Andsendingmecareeningdownthebasementstairs.

Iflungoutmyarmsinstinctivelyandfeltmyfingertipsgrazeagainstthewalls. Mylefthandcaughttherailing,butIfelt myfeetslipoverthestairandtoppledbackward,myownweightwrenchingmyhandfree. Iwentstraightbackwards,catching astepinmytailbone,thenknockingthebackofmyheadagainstthewallbeforerollingondown Itwasamiraclethestairs werethinlycarpeted,orunconsciousnessanddeathwouldhavebeeninstant. Mylegscontinuedoverme,sendingmetumbling downfaster Itriedtoregainsomeformofbalanceandendeduptwistingmyselfintoabarrel-rolldown,myfacescrapingon thestairsandcrunchingmynoseintothesteps. Itriedtoprotectmyheadwithonearmandgrabontothestairswiththeother, butcouldn’tslowthefall.

Finally,Ilandedflatonmybackontheconcretefloor Myheadcamedownontheconcretewithasickeningthud despitemyarmovermyheadandmyhandonthebackofmyskull. ThefingersscreamedinpainandIthoughtafewmightbe broken IcouldhearMrs Aaronscreamingasiffromunderwater,butthenoisefadedasherhusbandshutthebasementdoor andlockedit,plungingmeintodarkness.

MyeyelidswereheavyandIletthemslideshut Everyinchofmybodywasthrobbingormuchworse Mostspots wereonfirewithpain. MywristachedandIwonderedifIhadsprainedit. Myfingersfeltshattered. Myheadwaspounding andsomethingfeltwarmandstickyinmyhair. Ihopeditwasn’tblood,buttherewasnothingelseitcouldbe.

SomehowIknewthatifIletmyselffallasleep,Iwouldneverwakeup,soIopenedmyeyesandwincedasIsatup, puttingpressureonmytailbone,anothercasualty. MynosewasbentatabizarreangleandIpinchedthebridge,jerkingmy handquicklyandcrunchingitbackintoplace Then,Icheckedthebackofmyhead Myhandcamebackdrenchedinblood thatdancedinmyvision.

VertigohitmeasIsatupfartherandIrolledontomyknees,retchingontheconcretefloor Icontinuedtokneelthereas theroomspunaroundmeandmybodyseizedwiththeshuddersthatcomewithstomachconvulsions. Ididn’tknowmuchabout emergencymedicine,butIknewforsurethatdizziness,sleepinessandvomitingwereconcussionsymptoms.

Ineededtoescape IlimpedintowhathadbeenmyroomwhileIlivedhere,tryingtoignorethewaythebasementwas rollingbackandforthlikeashipintheocean. Itwasn’treal;Iwouldnotletaheadinjuryturnmeintoamaniac. Fivemore stepstothewindow

Thud. Iwalkedstraightintothewall,hissingasIbumpedmybrokennoseonit. Tryingtoignorethepainandrolling sensation,Idoubledbackandonthesecondtrymadeittothewindow. Unsuccessfullyblockingoutthewaytheframewas spinningandtwisting,Istoodupontip-toeandstretchedtoopenthewindowandpopthescreen. Then,beingverycareful,I stoodshakilyatopanoldendtable,hopingitwouldholdahundredpoundsofweight. Struggling,Iscrambledupintotheopen

window,diggingmyfingernailsintothecementframe. Myfingersbloodiedasmythin,weaknailsrippedandIgrimaced, usingmyinjuredwristasmoreleveragetoforcemyselfupandoutthroughthewindow.

Finally,IrolledoutintoMrs Aaron’srosebushes IscarcelynoticedthethornswithallthepainIwasin,justbegan crawlingthroughthemtothenarrowside-lot,whichconsistedofabouttwofeetbetweenthehouseandafence,andtowards thefrontofthehouse Scramblingtostand,Ilimpedtowardsthestreet,and,ultimately,thenearesthospital Juststanding straightwasnexttoimpossibleandifIwasn’tcoveredinblood,Icould’vebeenmistakenforadrunk. Once,halfwaytothe street,theworldspunandIlandedonmysideinthecoldgrass Thenolongergreengrasswascrispwithfrostandtheblades slicedmycheek.

Iwaitedforthespinningtoslowabit,thengotupandstartedagaintowardsthesidewalk. Ineededahospital. Icontinuedwalkingevenastherealizationhitme Icouldn’tpayahospitalbill IwasluckyifIcouldkeepuponmy electricbill. ThestateIwasin,though,wouldcostmeseveralthousanddollarsinmedicalbills. AheadinjurymeantIwould havetogetanMRIandinmymind,MRIwascodeforMonstrousandRidiculousInvestment

Imadeittothesidewalkandbeganstaggeringdownthestreet,halfofmethankfulthatnoonewashometoseemelike thisandaskquestionswhiletheotherhalfofmewishedtherewassomeonewhocouldhelpme

Stoppingbeforeoneofthemassiverowhouses,Iwascontemplatingtheoddsofbeingabletosuccessfullybreakinand findastaplertosewmyheadwoundupwithwhenthestreettiltedandIfellsidewaysontotheicycobblestones,whereIlaid immobileinmypain Icouldn’tevenstand Therewasnowayanyonecouldstapletheirownheadshut,muchlesssomeone sufferingfromaconcussionandseriousbloodloss. Ineededhelp.

Whowasgoingtohelpme,though? Ididn’tknowanybodybesidestheAaronsandmycoworkersandIwasn’t comfortablewithanyofthemhelpingme,evenifIhadtheirphonenumbers.

Suddenly,myhanddartedtomyjeanspocket,rightbesidemyapartmentkeys. Shakily,Idrewoutmystone-age cellphoneandthescrapofpaperwithFrost’snumberonit. Thephonerangonce,twice,thrice… Iwasbeginningtoresign myselftohimnotansweringwhenhisvoicesuddenlyappearedontheline. “DetectiveCalebFrost,Homicide.”

“That’showyouansweryourpersonalcellphone?”Iaskedwryly Icouldhearvoicesandbustlinginthebackgroundandguessedthathewasatthepolicestation. “Poe?”heasked. “I didn’tthinkyou’dcall”

“NeitherdidI. Areyoubusy?”

Thevoicesseemedtodim,asifhewaswalkingawayfromthesourceoftheracket. “Whereareyou?”

“Youcan’tanswermyquestionwithaquestion.”

Therewastheslamofadoorandthelinewasquiet. “Iknowyouwouldn’thavecalledifyoudidn’tneedhelp. Now tellmewhereyouare”

Isighedandreplied,“TheHeights.” Thegrey,cloudyskywasstartingtotwistabovemelikeakaleidoscopeandI decidedtostaythereontheiceuntilhearrived Tryingtostandoniceinthisconditionwouldnotendwell “I’llbethereinten.” HehungupandIslidmyphonebackintomypocket,staringupatthesleepingtreesaboveme, theirblackarmsstretchingacrossthegreysky,reachingformewithclawedhands.

Ididn’tknowhowfarFrost’sprecinctwasfromTheHeights,buthemadeitinunderfiveminutes Isupposebeinga copmadetrafficviolationsseemmuchlessrisky. Iheardtheroarofanengineanduneasilypulledmyselfuprighttoadazed seatonthecurb. ThelastthingIwantedwastoimplythatIhadbeenlyingonthesidewalkeversinceIcalledhim. WhenI sawtheblackViperragingupthestreet,IblinkedafewtimestoascertainthatIwasn’thallucinating,onlybelievingthatFrost reallyownedaViperofallthingswhenheslowedandparkedbesidethecurb,jumpingoutofthedriver’ssideanddashing aroundthefrontofthesportscartostoopbesideme,eyeswildwithconcernandmildpanic “JesusChrist! Whatthehell happenedtoyou? There’sbloodallover…Jesus. Comeon,getin.” Heputhisarmaroundmyshouldertohelpmeslowlyup andintothecar EvenasIfellintothepassengerseat,Igrimacedandthoughtofhowbadlyallthatbloodwasgoingtostain suchanexpensivecar. BeforeIcouldprotest,though,Frosthadslammedthedoor,thenoiserattlingmybrain,andmadeit aroundthecarandintothedriver’sseat. Instantly,heputthecarintogearandtoredownthequietsuburbanstreetateasily twicethespeedlimit. “So? Whathappened?”heasked.

“Islippedontheice,”Ilied. “Thereweren’tanyhomicidedetectivesaroundtocatchmetoday.”

Frostlookedatmepiercinglyandmyeyeswentwild

“DearGod,don’tlookatme!”Ishouted “You’regoingfiftytwoinatwenty-fivezone! Atleastwatchtheroad!”

Herolledhiseyesandobliged,replyinggrimly,“Andhowdidyousmashopenthebackofyourskullandbreakyour noseinonefall?”

Igrittedmyteethandshutmyeyesagainstthespinningtrafficlightsdazzlingme. Icouldhearmyheartpoundinglikea massivedruminmyhead “You’regivingmeamigraine”

“Judgingbytheinjuriesyou’veincurred,I’dsayyou’vedonethatyourself.” “Ididnotdothismyself!”Isnapped. “WhyinGod’snamewouldIdothistomyself?”

Frostlookedatmeagain,somethingverydarkinhiseyes,asifIhadsaidsomethinghehadn’texpected AsifIhad toldhimahorriblesecretIhadn’tintendedtoandhesympathizedwithit. “Thenwhodidittoyou? That’sthemarkofaringat thecornerofyourmouth,Poe”

ItouchedmymouthandwincedatthepainwherethebruisefromMr.Aaron’sringwasnodoubtalreadydisplayed. I back-pedaled,tryingtogetmythoughtsstraightevenasIrealizedthatmyjeanjacketandshirtweredrenchedinblood,asifI hadshoweredinit. “Theice.”

“Whatwereyoudoinghere,Poe? Whowereyouseeing?”

“Coworker,”Imoanedweakly Myheadwaspoundinglikehewasbeatingitwithasledgehammer “Idon’tbelieveyou.”

“Goddamnit,Frost,I’velostatleastafewpintsofblood,I’mconcussed,andI’vebeenlyingonthesidewalkforten minutes. Areyouheretohelpmeorinterrogateme?”Isnappedathim. “AndforGod’ssake,stoprunningredlightsorwe’ll bothhaveheadinjuries!”

Hetightenedhiseyesinfrustrationandstoppedforthenextredlight,thesilenceandtensionalivingpresenceinthe car. “Whydidn’tyouaskyour‘coworker’totakeyoutothehospital? Orevenbetter,call911?”

“Shit,”Imuttered “Ican’tgotoahospital Yourfather’sasurgeon Youmustknowenoughtostitchthisup,right?” HisicyeyeslitonmelikeIwasclinicallyinsane. “Poe,youneedanMRI. EvenifIcouldstitchyouup,therecould beseriousbraindamage”

“I’minsulted.”

Hesnortedharshlyandgunnedthenextlightearly. “Veryfunny. YouknowwhatImean. Now,answerthequestion. Anyquestion,really.”

“Ican’taffordmedicalbills.”

“That’salousyreason Youdon’thaveinsurance? AndI’msureyourlandlordwouldunderstandthatyouneedan MRI. Inanycase,aren’tyourfoster-parentsaround? Can’ttheyloanyoumoney?”

Igroaned “Stopbeingsodamnlogical,it’spissingmeoff Idon’thaveinsurance,mylandlordwouldnotunderstand, andmyfoster-parentswouldnotgivemealoan.”

“ThenI’llfootthebill. Whowereyoumeeting?”

Igazedathimthroughtheconcussion-inducedfogdescendingovermeinmilddisgust. “Youarenotpayingmymedical bills. Clearly,judgingbyyourcar,youhavedaddy’smoneytothrowaround,butIamnotacharitycase!”

“No,butyouareimportanttome”

Thosewordswereenoughtodeadeneveryargumentinmybrain. Theymeltedmysenseoflogictentimesasmuchas theconcussionhad WhileIwaspuzzlingoverthem,Frostscowledandadded,“And,fortherecord,Iboughtthiscarwithmy ownmoney. ItwasapieceofshitIfixedup.”

“Idon’tunderstand,”Ifinallysaid.

“What’snottounderstand?”heaskedquietly,clearlyknowingIwasn’treferringtothecar “You’remyfriend,Icare aboutyou,andIwantyoutogetanMRI. Andfine,Ihavealittlemoneytospend. Thinkofitasmepayingthehospitalto satisfymyworriesaboutyourpossiblebraindamage It’snothelpingyou,sinceyou’reobviouslynotconcerned It’sformy ownsake.”

Ishookmyhead,immediatelyregrettingthemotion Theentirecarseemedtodoacartwheel “WhyamIimportant? Whydoyoucare?” Theconceptsimplydidnotcompute. Noonehadevercared.

Frostpulledupatthecurbbesidethehospital,cuttingtheengineandturningtofacemehead-on. Theocean-depth beneaththeiceinhiseyesshowedmeoncemorehowfoolishIwastotrytolietoamanlikethis HeknewIwasbrokenandI wasprettysureheknewhowithadhappened. Whatwasthepointinhidingfromsomeonesoempatheticandsointelligent? “Youwerevisitingyourfoster-parents,right? Theymadeyoumiserableasakid,theyshowedyouthatpeopledon’tgivea damn,andtheydidthistoyou.”

Ishutmyeyestoescapehiswordsandthekaleidoscopeeffectofmyconcussion “Poe Iwanttohelpyou,but keepingitbottledupwhenthatclearlydoesn’tworkisn’tgoingtosaveyou. There’snopointinbeingstrongifbeingstrong nearlykillsyou,”hegaspedurgently,pleadingwithme.

Iblinked,lookingdownatthebloodalloverme,alloverthecar MyeyesmetFrost’sandtherewasnothingbutpain andunderstandinginhiseyes. Ididn’tknowwhyyet,butIdidbelievehecaredaboutmeandwantedtohelpme. “Myfostermotherisweak ShegetshurtasbadlyasIdo,worsenowthatI’vemovedout It’snotherfaultthathebrokeher Heusedto beadecentman,fromwhatshetellsme,butshortlyafterIcametothem,hestarteddrinkingandchanged. Iwenttheretovisit myfoster-motherwhilehewasatwork,butheknewI’dbethere.” TearscametomyeyesandFrostgentlytouchedmyface, wipingthebloodfrommycheeks,mychin,mynose,andmylips. “Hedoesn’twantmetalkingtoher. He’safraidI’llmake herleavehim. Hehitme,kickedme,andthen…hethrewmedownthebasementstairs.” Iwatchedashiseyesseemedto

harden,likeabladeglintinginsunlight. “IgotoutthroughthebasementwindowandmadeitaboutthreehousesbeforeIfellon theiceandcouldn’tgetbackup. AndIcalledyou.” Ibentmyheadandstartedsobbing,notsureifIfeltmoreravagedor relievedbytellingsomeone Frostsoftlytouchedmyshoulderanddrewmetohim,pullingmeagainstthewarmthofhischest ashewrappedhisarmsaroundme,intothecomfortofthesoftscentofhisskinandquietcologne. Hismusclestightened aroundmyachingbackandshoulderslikeaprotectiveshield Hisbodywaswarm,solid Hewaslikeaverywarm,very gentlerock.

Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Ifelttruly,genuinelysafe “Poe,”hewhisperedsoftlyagainstmyhair. “Weneedtogetyouinside.” IrealizedwearilythatIwasleaningfartoo heavilyonhim. Thatmyeyelidsfeltheavy,infact. MyhandsthatIthoughtIhadputonhisshoulderswerelimpatmysides. “OhGod,”Iwhisperedweakly “Thebastardfinallykilledme”

IheardacardooropenandgrimacedasFrostdraggedmyachingbodyoutofthecarandupintohisarmslikehehad thedaybefore,likeachinadolloradamselindistress ExceptthatIwasn’tanyaveragedamsel Iwasmyowndisaster,a monsterinmyownright.

Everythingwasverybrightandpale-colored Thehospitalsoundscameandroseovermeinwaves,asifwewere underwater. IfeltFrost’schestagainstmevibrateashecalled,“Someonehelpme! Please! She’sdying!”

Withthoselasttwowordslefttoechoinmymuddledmind,everythingfellawaytoblackness.

Iopenedmyeyesinacold,white,mistyplace,squintingattheharshbrightnessofthesetting Irubbedmyarmstotry tostimulatebloodflowandrealizedinconfusionthatIhadawokenfrominjury-inducedunconsciousnessstandingup. That observationalonewasbizarre,butofcoursepaledincomparisontotheeerieplace. Thefloorseemedtobesolid,notclouds, butthebrightwhitearoundmeandthenumbingfogwereforeboding Iturnedslowly,lookingforanysignoflife “Hello?”I called. “Isthereanyonehere?”

Adarksilhouettebegantomaterializeoutofthefogandmovetowardsme Isquintedhardertomakeitoutbetter, inferringthatthefigurewasamaninalongcoat. Hewalkedstrangely;Icouldalmostdescribehisstepasweakorweighed down,asthoughhewascarryingaveryheavyobject. Slowly,thefigureemergedfromthemist. Hewasmiddle-agedand dressedinearlynineteenthcenturyAmericanclothing,mostlyblack,includingawornblacksuitandcloak. Hishairwasdark brownandhishairlinewasbeginningtorecede. Heworeamustacheandwasverypale. Evenwithhimwalkingwithhis headlowered,Icouldseedark,almostvioletcirclesbeneathhiseyes,asifhesufferedfromsevereinsomnia “Elenora,”he greetedmequietly,hisvoiceweakandmelancholy. “Itisapleasuretofinallybecomeacquaintedwithyou.” Ashe approached,heextendedhishandandliftedhishead,smilingsadlyatme Thegreyeyesandwanexpression,thewavybrown hair,thesunkeneyes,allwereinstantlyrecognizable.

ItwasEdgarAllanPoe.

Ishookhisice-cold,clammyhandinconfusionandhesitated,staringathisverytangibleformandtheplacewewere in. Finally,Iresponded,“Edgar. Thepleasureismine. I’magreatadmirerofyourworkandI’dliketotalk,butfirst,could youtellmewhereweare? AmIdead?”

Hisalreadydepressedexpressionturnedgrimashebegantoslowlypacenearby. “No. Notyet.”

“Isthispurgatory,then? Somekindofwaitingplace?”

“Notthateither,”heanswered,hisvoicedetached,asifhismindwereonotherlesspleasanttopics. “It’smoreofa conferenceroom,toputitinearthlyterms. Aplacewherethedeadandthelivingcanmeet. Mostpeopledonothavethe capacitytojourneyherefromtheworldofthelivingorthatofthedead. ThedeadwhohaveverystrongtiestoEarth, however,canoftensuccessfullymaketheirwayhereandcallthesoulsofthelivingtoconferwiththem. Forexample,many elderlywidowsbelievethey’vespokentotheirlong-gonehusbands It’sverydifficult,though,asthedeadoftencallbutthe livingrarelyhear.”

Inarrowedmyeyesslightlyininterest “Iunderstand Couldanyofmyfamilycomehere?” Edgarfrowneddeeply. “Perhaps. Thedeadarediscouragedfromcallingthelivingifitisnotvital,however. Inyour place,Iwouldnotraisemyhopestoohighly.”

“Doyouknowthem?”

“Yes,verywell. Inlivingandindeath,”hesaidominously,turningtopacebackanotherdirection. “Iwouldoftencall yourfatherinthissamemannerwhenhewasalive”

Itippedmyhead. “Forwhatpurpose? Yousaidthatinterviewslikethisarediscouragedunlesstheyarevital. What qualifiesthemas‘vital’? Andwhyyou,ratherthanoneofmyancestors? Howdidyouknowmyfather?” Edgarturnedtome andforthebriefestmoment,duringwhichIwastakinginonlyhiseyes,reddenedandsunkeninsleepdeprivation,Imighthave believedIwaslookinginamirrorbutforthegreycolor. Thesamegreyasmyfather’s. MyeyeswidenedslightlyandI swallowedhard “Unless butit’snotpossible Youneverhadanychildren”

“ThisisaconversationIthinkshouldbeginwithyourfoster-mother,AbigailAaron,”Edgarsaidgently. “Itisalong storyandonebettertoldbysomeoneotherthanmyself Wedonothavemuchtimehere Inthemeantime,Iwillansweryour questionaboutwhatmakesaninterviewvitalandtowhatpurposeImetwithyourfatherandnowyou. Thetruthis,Elenora, thatyouaredescendedfrommeanditismyunfinishedbusinessthathasbidmetocallyouhere”

Ibitmyliptokeepfromlettingmyjawdropinshock. Iwastooconfusedandawedtosayanythinginreply,soEdgar wenton. “TheentirePoelinehaslongbeencursedtofacemonstrousoccurrencesthathavebeenforetoldandslowly unfoldingoverthepastone-hundredandfiftyyears YourfamilydiedfightingthiscurseandIhavecomenowtowarnyou” “Idon’tunderstand,”Icutin. “Idon’tseehowIcouldpossiblybedescendedfromyouorbe…cursed? Thisis… unbelievable Imustbedreamingordead” Istaredintothoseall-toofamiliareyesbeseechingly,beggingforsome explanationthatwouldmakesense. Ifeltasthoughmybrainwasrunningincircles,spinningaroundandaroundandbeing shovedinarbitrarydirections. “Thisisn’tpossible. Anditwasnocursethatkilledmyfamily. Itwasdisease. Adiseasethat could’vebeendiagnosedandexplainedifthedoctorshadhadmoretime. Therewasamistakeintheautopsies…” Distressed andbeginningtopanic,thinkingIhadlostmymind,Istaredupintohiseyes,fullofthatsamedarknessthatIknewtoowell fromthemirror Hehadseenhorriblethings,nodoubtevenworsethanI’dendured Afteramoment,Iasked,“Dothedead knoweverythingthatthelivingendure?”

Ididn’tthinkitwaspossible,butthatmiserablecountenancefellevenfartherwithaterribleunderstandinginhiseyes

thattoldmeheknewpreciselywhatIwasreferringto. “Iknowallthesecretsofmydescendants,”heansweredmeaningfully. “Andwhentheysuffer,Isuffer. Itisfareasierforthemorerestfuldeadtoliveatpeace,butforthoselikemesostronglytied totheworld,weseeallitshorrorsfartooclearly” “Youaretiedtotheworldbyyourcurse.”

“Yes Andyoumustheedmywarning Youareinverygravedanger,Elenora,andIamsorrythatitismyownbloodin yourveinsthatthreatensyourlife. YoumustspeaktoMrs.Aaron. Shewillpointyouintherightdirection. Now,weareout oftime” ThewhitemistbegantofadetodarknessandIstaredafterhisvanishingforminconfusion “Iwillseeyouagain, Elenora. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye…Edgar.” Asthewhitemistslowlyturnedblackandallthelightfellaway,painbegantogrowlikea rapidly-spreadingdiseasethroughthebackofmyhead,myface,mywristandfingers,andmyrib-cage Mywholehead throbbedwithaviciousmigraineandIfeltweakandill,probablyfrombloodloss. Iseemedtobesinkingintoan uncomfortablemattressasmystomachrolled Slowly,Ipriedmyeyelidsopen,staringupintoblindingLEDlightsforonlya momentbeforewincingandshuttingthemagain,tryingtocontrolthepurplesplotchesdancingacrossmyfieldofvision.

“Poe? Areyouawake?”someoneaskedquietly Iopenedmyeyesmuchmoreslowlythistimeandtookcarenotto lookdirectlyattheceiling,graduallyadjustingtothebrighthospitalroom. ThefirstthingIsawwasthethickbandageonmy wrist,remindingmehorriblyofanotherhospitaltripmanyyearsbefore. Ilookedawayfromthebandage,insteadexamining thesmallhospitalroomIwasinwithitsawfulgreywallpaperandgreencurtainsservingasthreesoftwalls Iwaswearinga hospitalgownandcoveredwithprobablyhalfadozenhospitalblankets. MaybethecoldinthestrangeEdgarAllanPoedream hadbeenaffectingmyrealbodytemperature Finally,IlookedtoFrost,whowasseatedinaplastichospitalchairbesideme Helookedrelativelywellcomposed,hewasahomicidedetective,afterall,butverydrained. Hiseyesseemedtired,asif he’dseenmorethanenoughbloodforoneday. “Youstayed,”Iwhispered,myvoiceharshlikesandpaper. Asthewordscame out,mythroatfeltlikeIhadswallowedrazorblades.

Henoddedwearily. “ThedoctorsaidtheMRIcamebackokay,butyou’reveryluckytobealive. Yousuffereda concussion,butoneyou’llrecoverfromfairlyquickly Forawhile,thenursesweresuretheyweregoingtoloseyou You sortoffellintoacoma.”

Iswallowedhard,wonderingifitwasreallypossiblethatthedreamhadsentmeintoacomaorifithadbeenmy injuries. “Whattimeisit?”Iaskedhim.

“Justpasteighto’clock. Thedoctorwantstokeepyouovernightforobservation. Justincase.”

MyeyeswentwidewithhorrorandIlockedgazeswithhiminpanic. “No. No,Ican’tstayhere,Frost. Not overnight.”

Froststudiedmecarefully,hiseyespeeringthroughme “Poe,relax” Hestoodslowly,leaningoverme,andsoftly touchedmyuninjuredhand. HisfingerswereverywarmandIwishedthathewouldholdmyhands. Iwasstillfreezing. “Listen,I’llgocatchthedoctorandbringhimhere,okay? Heneedstomakesureyou’restablebeforewecaneventhinkabout takingyouhome. Okay?”

Inoddednumbly,staringdownathishandonmineinshameandmisery. Myfreehand,Inownoticed,wassplotched withasickshadeofvioletandthreeofthefingersweresecuredbysplints Iwassuchawreck Whydidheevenbothertrying tohelpme? Itwasbeyondmycomprehension.

Frostnoddedoncetome,hisicyeyesofferingreassurance,thenturnedandslippedoutthroughthecurtain Shortly thereafter,hereturnedtositbesidemeoncemoreandwaitforoneofthenursestobringthedoctor.

DoctorRobinsonwasamiddle-agedmanwhowasfairlywellbuiltandIimaginedwastheTVstereotypeofthe attractivedoctoratonepoint. Hehadsalt-and-pepperhairanddarkgreeneyesthatprovidedanagedDr.McDreamylookto him. “MissPoe,howareyoufeeling?”heaskedconfidently,asifwaitingformetoswoon.

IcovertlyclearedmythroatandwasrelievedwhenmyvoiceseemedfairlynormalasIanswered “I’mstillinsome pain,butit’snotbad. Ifeelprettygood. Wellenoughtogohome.”

Robinsonsmiledandlaughedheartily,approachingtocheckmyheartrate,breathingandtemperature “Well,we’ll see.” Allseemedfairlynormalandwhenheshinedasmalllightinmyeyes,hissmilewarmedmore. Hereplacedhis equipmentandnodded “Theconcussiondoesn’tseemtobenearlyasbadaswe’dfeared Let’sseeifyoucanbalance” He extendedahandthatreekedofantisepticandmademenauseous. Itookitgingerly,lettinghimhelpmeeaseoutofbedandto myfeet. Theroomspun,butImanagedtoignoreitwellenoughtostandstraight. Stillholdingmyhand,Robinsonaskedmeto takethreesteps Iobligedwithrelativeease Iwasstillwobblyandbarelymanagingtoconcealmydizziness,butitwasgood enough.

Robinsonhelpedmebacktositontheedgeofthebed,thenbeganwritingadischargeslipformeashechuckled “Amazing. Onlyafewshorthoursago,wethoughtyouwereagoner,buthereIamwritingyourdischarge. You’reverylucky, MissPoe.” Hegrinnedbroadly,flashingperfectteeth,andhandedmetheslip. “Takecare.” HethenlookedtoFrostashe spokehisnextwords. “Youneedtowakehereverythreehoursasaprecaution. Sheshouldonlyeatclearliquidsforthenext twenty-fourhours. Concussionsareverydangerousthings.”

MycheeksburnedandItookcaretolookawayfrombothRobinsonandFrost,realizingwhatFrostbringingmehere lookedliketounknowingeyes.

“Haveagoodnight Callifanythingatalldoesn’tseemright,”Robinsonsaidashevanishedthroughthecurtain Whenhewasgone,Frostproducedmyclothes,jacket,keysandwalletandsetthemnearmeonthebed. “Areyou reallyokay?”heaskedtightly “Thatdoctorisamoron”

Imethiseyeshesitantly. “Okayenough. I’llhavetocallinsickagaintomorrow,butthat’sokay.”

“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”heasked,hiseyesfallingtohisshoes,hishandsdivingintohispocketsinclearanxiety “Whatdoyoumean?”

“Someonehastowakeyoueverythreehours,Poe.”

IgrittedmyteethasIrealizedwhathemeant IlivedaloneandFrost,whoIhappenedtobarelyknow,wassadlythe personItrustedthemost. “It’sasillyandunnecessaryprecaution.”

Frostshookhishead,cheeksredwithdiscomfort “No,notreally Myfatherisadoctor,Poe Concussionsarereally dangerous. Sometimeswithaconcussion,youcan’twakeup. It’spossibletofallintoacomaordieinyoursleep. AndI don’treallycarethattheMRIcamebackfineorthatyou’readeptatfakinggoodhealth” Helookedatmeseriously,hiseyes seeingthroughmyfaçadewithease. “IsawyouafterithappenedandIknowthatconcussionisserious. You’retakingavery dangerousriskleavingthehospitaltonight,muchlessstayinghomealone.”

Ibeganpickingatmynailstensely,staringdownatthem “Whataremyoptions?”

“Icanstaywithyou,youcanstayinmyapartment,orwecangotomyfamily’shouse. Iknowyoubarelyknowmeand Ibarelyknowyou,butyoucalledmeandthattellsmethatyoudon’thaveanyoneelseyoucantrust”

Sadly,Imethisgaze,anapologyinmyeyes. “I’msorry,Frost. I’mnotsureIcaneventrustyou. Ionlymetyouafew daysagobychance. I’mnotthesortofpersonthattrustseasily.”

Hesighed,hiseyesgivingawayatraceofthesadnesshefelt. “That’swhyIsuggestedmyfamily. Ihavethreeyounger siblingsandmymotherisasclosetoMarthaStewartastheycome. Iknowyoudon’tknowthem,butthey’rethesortofpeople thatwouldmakeyoufeel morecomfortablewiththesituation” Frost’sjawseemedtotightenandwhenhespokeagain,it wasinmildfrustration. “Ireallydocareaboutyou,Poe. Iwantyoutoknowthatyoucantrustme. ButIdon’thavetimeto proveittoyoubeforethenexttimeyousleep So,I’mofferingmyfamilyasabufferfornow”

Istaredathimforalongtime. Hewastakingcarenottomeetmyeyes,obviouslyanxiousandupsetbythewhole circumstance. Thiswasnotwhathehadplanned. HehadmeanttogainmytrustovertimeifIdecidedtolethimin,notforce meintoasituationthatwasagainstmynaturetoaccept. Andsomewhereinsideme,buriedbeneathallthepain,wasapartof methatdidbelievehecaredandwantedtohelpme,evenifIdidn’tknowwhy. Ididn’tbelievethathewouldhurtme,atleast notbyhisownvolition

Butthenagain,IhadthoughtthesamethingaboutLex. LexandFrostweretwoverydifferentpeople

Frost’sfacewasverypale,asiftheday’seventshaddrainedhimofbloodasbadlyastheyhadme. Hewascoveredin mybloodanditwasclearthatthiswasnotthesortofsituationthathewaspreparedfor. Ibegantogetthefeelingthathe openeduptopeoplewithaslittleeaseasIdid Oncethatthoughtenteredmybrain,IbegantoseeFrostinaverydifferent light. Hewasbrokentoo,justslightlyfartheralongtheroadtorecoverythanIwas. “Whathappenedtoyou?”Iasked,nearly inaudibly

Helookedupatme,adeepandancientsadnessinhiseyes. “Toomuch. I’mnotstrongenoughtotellyounow. It’s beenalongday”

Istaredintothosedeepeyes,seeingatonceallthememory,alltheknowing,allthemiseryinthem. “We’renotso different,arewe?”Iwhispered.

Helookeddownatmyhandsasheanswered,“No We’renot”

Afteraverylongmoment,Inoddedandagreedtostaywithhimandhisfamilythatnight. Hevanishedthroughthe curtaintoletmechangeintomyclothes AsIpulledmysweaterovermyhead,Iwonderedwhyhehadbeenstaringatmy hands. Inthecourseofadjustingthesleeveofmysweateraroundmybandagedrightwrist,itbecamecleartome,likeIhad beenstruckbyaboltoflightning Carefully,Irolledmyleftsleevepartwayupmyforearmandturnedmyarmover Thescars onmywristweremorethanfifteenyearsold,buttherewasnomistakingthemforwhattheywere. We’re not so different, are we?

FromthewayFrosthadprickledwhenImadethatcommentaboutdaddy’smoney,Ishouldn’thavebeensurprisedat hisfamily’swealth. Theylivedinamansionthattookuphalfofacityblock. Itwasfourandahalfstoriestallandlargerin perimeterthantwooftheAarons’rowhouse. Themansionwaswhitewithcountlessartfulflowerbedsaroundit,perfectly landscapedandsomehowstillhalfalivedespitethecold Thesidingandblackshutterslookedfreshlypainted Thewalkway

wasperfectlylaidbrickthatIwasafraidtostepon. AroundthesideofthehouseIcouldmakeoutatleastthreegaragedoors openingtoaprivatedrive. Trying,probablyunsuccessfully,tokeepfromlookinglikeafool,Iraisedaneyebrow. “DoIsmell chlorine?”

Frostlaughedquietly. Thesightofthehouseseemedtohavemeltedawaytheworstofhisanxietyfromthehospital. “Yeah There’sasmallin-groundpoolinthecourtyard”

Ofcoursetherewas.

Frostledmeupthewalkwaytothefrontdoorandheldopentheswingingglasspaneforme Ishould’veknownthe insideofthemanorwouldbeevenmoreshockingthantheexterior. Thefoyerwallswerecarvedoakpanelingwithpaintings hungonthemthatwereprobablyoriginalworks. Plushcarpetwithintricatedesignsprintedonitcoveredthefloor. Alittle glasstablewascenteredintheroomwithavaseoffreshrosesatopitandadoublestaircaseledtothesecondfloor,from whichabalconylookeddownonusfromthreesides. Oneithersideofthestairs,amassivearchwayledtotherestofthe groundfloor

WhatwasmostimpressiveandfranklyshockingaboutFrost’shome,though,wasthatdespitethegrandeur,itremained warm Thephysicaltemperaturewascomfortable,anoveltytome,andthechandelieraboveusprovidedtheroomwitha goldenglow. Thepanelingandcarpetwerewarmcolorsthatscaledthelargeroomdownandmadeithomey. Andthehouse smelledlikeabakery,asthoughFrost’smotherhadacookiefactoryinthebasementandletthesmellsofsugar,vanillaand chocolateflowthroughtheairfiltrationsystem

Ishutmymouthawkwardly,realizingthatithaddroppedopenagain. “Idon’tthinkI’veseenahundreddollarbillin mylife,muchlesssomethinglikethis Thisisincredible,Frost MyGod”

Frostshrugged. “Iguessthisiswhathappenswhenamaninheritsafortuneandthendecidestobecomea neurosurgeon.”

Softfootstepssoundedfrombeyondthearchwayandafriendly-lookingwomanaroundMrs.Aaron’sage,buttalland thin,enteredthefoyer. Shehadlong,goldenblondhairinaloosebraidandworeclothesthatlookedhigh-end,butstill motherly

“Caleb,it’sgreattoseeyou!” Shegavehimahug,grinning,andwhenshereleasedhim,hericysilvereyestouchedon me ShesmiledwarmlyandIforcedahalf-smileback “YoumustbePoe Calebsaidyou’dbestayingwithustonight?”

FrostsmiledathismotherandIrealizedthattheirwarmexpressionswerealmostidentical,muchliketheireyes. “Poe isagoodfriendandsheslippedontheiceearliertoday. Shehasabitofaconcussion,sosheneededtostaywithsomeonejust incase.”

“Ofcourse. You’rewelcomehereanytime,”shesaidsoftlyandverysincerely. Therewasareflectionofmotherly concerninthosefamiliareyesandsheseemedlikeshewishedshecouldhugme Frostmusthaveaskedhernotto

“Thankyou,”Isaidquietly. “It’sjustonenight. Idon’twanttointrude.”

“Oh,ofcourseyou’renot ItwillbeapleasantchangetohaveCalebhereagainforthenight,especiallywiththebonus ofaguest.” Mrs.Frostsaidthiswithawidesmilefullofperfectteethandseemedgenuinelyhappytohavemethere. Iwould nevergetusedtopeoplewantingmearoundorcaring.

AsMrs Froststeppedaway,sheadded,“Especiallysuchaprettyone,ifyoudon’tmindthecompliment,dear” She smirkedatFrostandturnedtodisappearoncemorethroughtherightarchway,callingoverhershoulder. “Yourfatherjustgot homefromthehospital,soyou’rejustintimeforalatedinner Itshouldbereadyinfifteenminutesorso” “Sure,Mom.” Frostrolledhiseyes,butthetwitchatthecornerofhismouthtoldmethathe’dmissedhismotherinhis timelivingaloneandthateverythingshesaid,evencomplimentingmewhenhe’dclearlyaskedhernottoimpose,wastakenby himasendearing. Hestartedtowardsthestaircase. “Comeon.”

Ifollowedhimupthestairs,keepingmyhandfirmlyonthegleamingcherryrailontheway. Iwasstillalittledizzy, butnotenoughtojustifyaskingforFrost’shand Atthetopofthestaircase,wewentdownawidecorridoronthesecondfloor tothebackofthemanor,whichIdiscoveredhousedamassivewindowoverlookingthecourtyardandpool. Thewindowwas floor-to-ceilingandseemedtocontinuefromthegroundupthroughthefourthfloor Ipausedbeforetheglassandlookeddown intotheblacknightofthecourtyard,brokenbytheblueambientofthepoollights. “I’veneverbeenswimmingbefore,”Isaid quietly

Froststoppedandstoodbesideme,lookingdownintothetranquilbluewater. “Never? Didn’ttheAaronshaveapool ortakeyousomewhereatall?”

Isnorted,notmeetinghisicyeyes “Yeah,right Theywouldn’tdrivemesixblockstoschool,muchlesstoapoolor waterpark.”

“Nofriendswithpoolsorneighbors? LivinginTheHeights,theremust’vebeenneighbors”

ThequestiondredgedupmemoriesoftheFaucetts’blockparties. Ninahadonlyinvitedmeonceasaprank,thoughthe Aaronswerealwaysinattendance. Ibitmylipandtastedblood,rememberingtoolatethatithadsplitwhenMr.Aaronhit me. “TherewasagirlwhohadpoolpartiesallthetimeinTheHeights,butIwasneverinvited. I…Ineverhadfriends. Iwas ‘thecreepygirlwiththedeadfamily.’”

TherewasalongpausebeforeFrostansweredgrimly,“Iwouldn’thavetreatedyoulikethat. I’dneverhavetreated youdifferentlybecauseofyourpast.” HeleanedbackagainsttheglasssoIcouldseehisfaceoutofthecornerofmyeye. “Areyougoingtotellmewhyyourfoster-dadhatesyou?”

Mymouthtightenedintoathinlineandeverymuscleinmybodystiffenedlikeacorpse. Frostmusthaveseenthe changebecauseafterashortmomentofsilence,headded,“I’mjusttryingtohelpyou” IknewIwasgraspingatstraws,butIwantedtoknowanyway. “Frost,whyareyouhelpingmeanyway? Wedon’t knoweachotherwell WhileIappreciatethethingsyou’vedoneforme,Idon’tunderstandwhyyoubother Nobodyelse givesadamnaboutmeandsomeofthosepeopleknowmealotbetter. Whydoyoucare?”

Heraisedaneyebrowandhisice-blueeyesstareddeepintomysoul. Ifeltmyheartquickenwiththewayhewas lookingatmeandbecamesuddenlyveryawarethatfromwherehewasleanedagainstthewindow,hecouldeasilyreachout andputhisarmsaroundme,couldeasilydrawmetohim,couldeasilykissmeifIlethim. “Whyshouldn’tIcare?”he whispered,keepinghiseyeslockedwithmine,anintensitythatkeptmefrombreathingburningintheirdepths “Iknowyou’ve beenhurt. Iknowhowharditisforyoutoopenyourselfup. Butyoucan’tlockeveryoneout. You’llself-destruct. Isawa wayinandnowthatI’matleastwithinreachofgettinginsideyourheadenoughtohelpyou,Ican’tstop I’vegottofinishthe jobandhelpyoupickupthepieces.”

“Butwhypickupthepieces? What’sthepoint?”Iasked,tearscomingtomyeyesbutnotdaringtospill.

Hiseyesmeltedintocoldmoltensilver “Iwanttohelpyou That’smyreason Icanseethere’smuchmoretoyou thanyourscarsandIthinkthatthatpartofyouisworthsaving.”

Justthen,athunderingnoise,asofanelephantstampede,issuedfromthethirdfloorstaircase Frostgroaned,butthere wasaplayfulglintinhiseye. “Andthemonstersarrive,”hesaid.

Threechildrenshotdownthestairsandrantowardsus. Icaughtsightofatallblondgirlwithpaleblueeyes,probably eighteen,ashorterboywithlightbrownhairandblueeyesthatwasprobablyfifteen,andfinallyalittlegirlwithashockof nearlysilverblondhairandblueeyes,alljustlikeFrost’s,thatIguessedtobeeight. Aglintoflightreflectedoffashimmering braceletshewore

Thethreekidsscreamedwildly,tacklingFrostliterallytothegroundandsittingonhim. Frosttriedtoprotest,butthe oldestgirlsatrightonhischestandknockedthebreathoutofhim IknewhowstrongFrostwasfromhoweasilyhekept carryingmearound,soIlookedonwithasmirkandmerelysteppedtothesidetobetterlethissiblingsholdhimdown.

“Poe,”hegaspedtheatrically. “Helpme…”

Ishookmyhead,half-smilinginamusement. “You’reonyourown,Frost. Theyseemprettyvicious.”

Thelittlegirlbeamedatme,herblueeyessparkling. “Weare.”

Theoldergirllookedupatme,wide-eyedandgrinning “You’rePoe?” Sheseemedtobestudyingmeclosely,the wayIimaginedsistersinspectedtheirbrothers’girlfriends.

Inoddedgood-humoredly,grittingmyteethinembarrassmentoncemoreatwhatFrostandIlookedliketogether “Yeah,Iknow,it’sodd. Ihatemyfirstname.”

Shegrinnedevenwider. “I’mMaddi. ThisisRyanandTrina. We’reFrost’ssisters.”

“Hey!”Ryanyelled,seemingonlyhalfoffended Maddirolledhereyesathim “Sorry TrinaandIareFrost’ssisters Ryanisourpetpig.”

RyanlaunchedhimselfoffofFrost’slegsandtookoffafterMaddi,whowasalreadyrunningforthestairs Bothwere screamingandlaughinghysterically. Trinastoodupslowlyandsmiledinasweetandalmostsurreallyknowingwayatme. “Seeyoulater,Poe” Then,sheturnedandfollowedhersiblingsbackupstairs,runningontoewiththegraceofawell-trained ballerina.

IextendedahandtoFrostandhelpedhim,groaning,tohisfeet. Onceagainvertical,herolledhiseyesandgesturedto thestairs,smirking “Themonsters”

“Howoldarethey?”

“Eighteen,fifteenandeleven” Hesmiled “Iknow,Trinadoesn’tlookit” “Notreally,”Iagreed,thinkingthatIwantedtotalktoTrina. Elevenwasn’tright. Shelookedyearsyoungerandacted manyyearsolder “They’recool,though IwishIhadsiblings”

Frostshrugged,tryingtofeignnonchalance,thoughIwassurehe’dheardtheunsaid‘anymore’echoinginthenowsilent hallway. “Yeah,they’recool,butyoucan’tletthemgetatthechocolate. Wanttopickoutaroom?”

“Sure” IfollowedFrostdownthehallandaroundacornertoalongcorridorwithdoorsliningonewall The opposingwallwasadornedwithmorepaintingsandwindows,whichoverlookedmonstroustreesandthegarage. Aswe walkedalong,Frostopenedthefirstsixdoorswide,showingoffbedroomafterbedroom Theywereallfairlycloseto identical,eachwiththesamedoublebed,dresser,nightstandandopenemptycloset. Eachroomwasadifferentcolorscheme, though,remindingmeeerilyof“TheMasqueoftheRedDeath”. Thefirstwasearthtones,mainlychocolatebrown. The secondwasblues. Thirdwaspalegolds. Fourthwaswhitewithbrightaccents. Fifthwasgreens. Finally,thesixthwas decoratedindarkroyalpurples. “Whichonedoyoulike?”Frostaskedasheopenedthefinaldoor.

“Thisone,”Ianswered,staringintothedeeppurpleroom.

Frosthalf-smiled. “Ifiguredthat.” Heeyedmyblood-soakedjacketandsweatercritically. “Let’sgetyouachangeof clothes You’reprobablyaboutmymom’ssize,evenifsheistaller”

Ishrugged,thediscomfortandawkwardnessofbeinginaforeignhousewithnewpeoplereturning. “Sure,Iguess. I’m much shorter,though,andreallyskinny Iprobablywon’tfitinanything”

“We’llsee,”hesaidassuredly. FrostcontinueddownthehallandItrailedhimtoanotherstaircase. Weascendedto thethirdfloor,thendownanotherhall ItwouldbeamiracleifIcouldnavigatethishouseatallandIwasgratefultobe stayingforonlyonenight. Atlast,Frostpassedthroughacherry-wooddoorandIfollowedhimintoasmallburgundyparlor. “Thisismyparents’suite,”heexplained.

Ihadneverseenasuitebeforeandhadn’timaginedoneoutsideofaritzyhotel,butitwasgreat Therewasthelittle parlorwithitsfancyloveseatandaplethoraofpaintings;IhaddeterminedthatMrs.Frostmustbeanartfanaticandsupposed itmadesensetobecomeoneifyouhadmoneytospend Therewerethreedoorsbranchingofftheparlor Icouldn’tseeinside thefirsttwo,butassumedthemtobeabedroomandbathroom. Thethirdopenedintoaclosethalfthesizeofmyapartment. I gapedasFrostgesturedtoracksuponracksofclothes “Pickanything Sheaskedmetoletyoutakewhateveryouwanted”

Isteppedintotheclosetandstaredatthetwenty-footrackforalongtime. Iownedagrandtotalofabouttwelveshirts andfivepairofjeans. Clothes,tome,weresomethingextremelyvaluableandrare,likegold.

“Seriously,Poe Gocrazy,”Frostencouraged,studyingmeagain Ihesitatedandglancedbackathimforvisual assuranceandwhenhenodded,gesturingtotherack,Iturnedawayagain. Notingthewaytheclosetwasorganized,Itraveled downtheracktothedarkercolors,farfromthewhitesandpastels IslidasidethebluesandredssothatIcouldbetterflip throughthepurpleshirts,quicklyfindingamidnightpurplelong-sleevedV-neck. Itwasjustthickt-shirtmaterial,butIhadn’t ownedabetterqualityshirtinmylife.

“Thatlookslikeyou. Here,IfoundapairofjeansthatIbetwillfityou.” IturnedjustasFrosttossedapairoffaded jeansatmeandnarrowlymanagedtocatchthem. Theyweresimpleflares,buttheyhadbeenfadedaneeriegreenishcolorand Icouldseethedesignernamestitchedintothewaistband

“Thebathroom’sthedooronthefarleft,”Frostadded,returningtotheparlorandmakingfortheexit. “I’mgoingto cleanupandbebackinaminute Takeyourtime”

Ibitmylipandturned,exitingtheclosetandcrossingtoopenthebathroomdoor. Themasterbathroomwaseasilyas largeasthecloset. Ithadashowerwitheightpower-jets,aJacuzzitub,acounterfifteenfeetlongwiththreesinks,andatoilet thatlookedlikeitwasworthmorethanmyapartment. Igrittedmyteethandshutthedoorbehindme,feelingawkwardandill. Thesepeoplewereverywealthy,didnotknowme,andweregivingmefreereignoftheirincrediblehome,aswellasfree foodandclothes Itseemedwrong,asifIshouldbetoldtoleave

Iflickedontheshowerandtriedtoscrubthebloodoffmyachingbody,strugglingwiththebandagesonmywristand handimpedingme Thebloodwasforthemostpartwashedawaybythenursesatthehospital,buttherewasagooddealstill mattedintomyhairandmyskinwasfaintlystainedscarlet. Ihadn’tthoughtabouthowdifficultitwouldbetowashoff,but nowthatItriedto,Irecalledhowbadlybloodcanstainskin. Theclottedredinmyhairwasevenworse. Thehotwaterstung theyoungwoundonthebackofmyheadandIgrimacedasIwashedaroundthestitches,happyatleastthatthedoctorshadnot cutmyhairtotreattheinjury. Vaguely,Iwonderedwhytheyhadn’tandbrieflyentertainedthenotionthatFrosthadaskedthem notto Butmendidnotthinkofthingslikethat Finally,Imanagedtowashtheworstofthegoredownthedrain,grittingmy teethandtryingtosuffocateafeelingofdéjàvu.

ChangedintothepurpleV-neckandjeans,Iexaminedmyreflectioninthefloor-toceilingmirror Surprisingly,theshirt fitmewell,betterthananythingelseIowned. IcouldalmostsayIlookedgoodinit. Thejeansweretoolong,butthatwas okaywithme. Myfacewaslikesomethingoutofanightmare. Myrecently-brokennosewasstraight,butthebridgehad completelychangedshape,nowwithasmallbutobvioussharply-raisedpartinthemiddle Mylipwasbadlysplit The bruisefromMr.Aaron’sringatthecornerofmymouthwasraised,throbbing,andslowlyturningintoabrightreddishpurple.

Ileftthebathroomfeelingself-consciousandnervous,holdingmyhanduptomymouthinadepressingattempttohide mysplitlipandthebruise. AsIclosedthebathroomdoor,Frostlookedupfromwherehewassprawledontheloveseat,eyes halfclosed HelookedasexhaustedasIfelt Hiseyesweresunkenandfromthewayheappearedtobesinkingintothe loveseat,itwaseasytoseejusthowdrainedhewas. Whenhesawme,hesatboltupright,hiseyeswidening. Forawhile,he didn’tsayanythingasifinshock. ColorroseinmycheeksandIlookeddownattheredplushcarpetinginembarrassment, tryinghardertocovermymouthwithmyhand Wasitthatbad? Maybeitwasthebrokennoseormysicklypallor Slowly,he stood,somethingstrangeandindecipherableinhiscountenance. Takingcautioussteps,heapproachedme,finallystandingonly aboutafootaway Heraisedahandandtookmyfingersawayfrommymouthgently Irealizedfromthesteadinessofhishand aroundminethatIwasshaking. Then,withhisotherhand,heliftedmychinwithhisfingertipssothathecouldfacemeheadon,hiseyespiercingthroughmine. Ididnotunderstandtheemotionsflickingacrosshisfaceashestudiedme. Ihadnever seenanythinglikethembefore. Hesitantly,hebrushedmyhairbackfrommyface,thenstrokedthering-imprintedbruiseatthe cornerofmymouthwithhisthumb. Atlonglast,hewhisperedintimately,“Youdon’thavetohidefromme.”