“And this time?” Remi asked. She never knew about the nightmares. After Soleil passed, she and Elise were no longer permitted to return. Beline was quite strict about it and kept them on a tight schedule between studies, vocationals, and tea time with the ladies’ society. It was one of the hardest days of Remi’s life when she learned Ben left without saying goodbye.
“I nearly joined her.” He sat back, slouching into the deep cushions of the chair. “It’s never happened like that.”
“Well, it was quite a spell you were under. I called for you ten times before I finally got through to you,” she said.
He sucked in a breath and held it for a long while. Finally, he let it go.
“You know,” she started, “you were calling out for her at first. But then I saw you running; you looked angry and afraid. That’s why I thought you might have been trying to…to hurt yourself.”
“Oh.”
“It must have been an awful dream you were having.” It was a miracle she’d been able to move him at all in that state, let alone bring his legs out from under him.
Ben considered her in silence. She could see the cogs in his mind working, weighing each unspoken word before he finally said, “It wasn’t a dream.”
“But you said—”
“I know.” He groaned in frustration, leaning forward on his elbows to rest against his knees. He was so large that he was bigger than the chair even when he curled into himself for comfort. “But I don’t think it was a dream, per se, more like...more like a memory.”
“A memory,” Remi repeated.
“But it wasn’t my memory.”
“What?” Remi blinked. “What exactly did you see?”
Ben breathed in deeply. He was still for a moment longer, and then he sprang to his feet. His wet clothes clung to him; through the light of the fire, she could see the outline of his body—the curve of his back, the slight flex in his arms as he crossed them over his chest. She dropped her gaze, trying to fan her desire for him away.
“I saw Soleil fall.” He paused as if his plan to tell her might not have been the best idea. But then he said, “Rather, I watched someone push her over the edge of the cliff. She pulled me from my room this evening, and I followed her outside. I watched it all—it was as if she wanted me to see it happen.”
“A vision,” Remi murmured, frozen as she recalled her own horrifying vision. Edgar’s white eyes, her name on his pale, dead lips as he called out to her, just as Ben’s sister called to him. It was uncanny that they should both experience a haunting at the same time of the night. The Leones were restless sleepers.
“Yes.” He nodded. “A vision. Her memory.”
Remi swallowed. She didn’t believe in ghosts, visions, or phantom apparitions. “Couldn’t it just be a nightmare?”
“No.” He was adamant. “This was different.”
“But Ben—”
He turned, a wild look in his eyes. There was a vulnerability in his expression that she didn’t expect to see. It pierced her heart. He was a little boy again, desperate and raw. She waited, her lip quivering as he approached, sinking to his knees in front of her. His eyes, so wide and deep, seemed to plead with her.
“It wasn’t my memory, Remi.” He spoke her name, low and deep—a mere rumble in his chest. “I know this because I was there when she fell. I was the one who found her body on the beach.”
Remi’s tea spilled to the side as her hands shook. It soaked into her blanket as the cup tumbled from her fingers and to the floor between them. She pressed her lips together to stave off her quivering.
Ben took her hands, though he was also shaking, and held her gaze. “She was showing me her memories. It can’t be just a coincidence.”
“What do you mean?” Remi asked, though her voice shook.
Ben pulled away, pushing himself again to his feet. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive for returning. Outside of my father’s passing, I knew I could investigate Soleil’s murder. That is the reason why I’m staying and not leaving after tomorrow.”
“Murder?” Alarmed, Remi jumped to her feet. “You think she was murdered?”
“I do,” he said. “I always have.”
Of course, he wouldn’t believe the rumors. He’d just said he was there, that he’d seen everything.
Well, almost everything, she thought. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Ben scoffed. “As if anyone would listen. I was ten, and Father? Well, you see how well he took the news.”
“I know.” She frowned. “I don’t think I will ever forget.” The memory of his leaving brought up the bitterness of her unanswered letter to him. The scent of fresh ink spilling over blank parchment still lingered, as did the words she hoped would reach him. It was a short letter: You’ve been gone these too long years and still, my heart has never forgotten you. I yearn for the day that you might turn up on our shores. I need you, please come for me. Though it was months ago now, the sting of his rejection gripped her heart still.
She knelt to clean up her broken cup, surprised when his hand stopped her from touching the shards.
Gently, he said, “Don’t. You’ll cut yourself.”
“I’m sorry about your sister,” she whispered. “And now, your father? I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”
Ben squeezed her fingers, and she made the mistake of looking back up at his eyes. The tender expression on his face tore her open. “I’m sorry you’re mixed up in our family’s misfortune.”
The warmth from his fingers distracted her from the broken cup. It felt nice to be touched, to have someone hold her hand again. She licked her lips. “I’m not.”
Though he did not fully smile, the tug at the corner of his lips was enough to make her blush. Scooping the broken teacup into one hand, he held out his other and waited.
“You must think me a madman,” he said as he pulled her to her feet.
Remi felt dizzy. “I think…nothing is impossible.”
