My throat swallows a little harder than normal. ‘You’re reading into things too much.’
‘Am I?’ he says, letting the question hang out in the silence between us. It settles in me as I’m sure it was intended. No, of course he’s not.
His smirk catches my attention. ‘What?’
He pulls out some keys, shaking them in triumph. ‘It’s almost summer holidays. I thought we could go down to my beach house – you know, regain some level of normalcy. It’s almost that time of the year after all. It would be sacrilegious if we didn’t follow tradition.’
It would be nice to get away from this townhouse. ‘Rye, look, I don’t know…’ It’s hard to find a reason to decline the offer, despite the effort I put into trying. ‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘Siara, they’re not coming back.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do,’ he says, his voice cold. ‘They told me.’
His blue eyes fall on me, clear and unyielding. He’s not lying. Of course he wouldn’t lie; Rye’s not that sort of person. Always, awfully honest. ‘It’s over. You should be relieved.’
I try to swallow the lump forming in my throat. How fitting that as suddenly as they had arrived, they have now left.
The townhouse becomes still, silence stretching through its empty halls. ‘Yeah.’ This place isn’t my house; it was given to me by them. I’m not even sure if it’s real. I can’t stay here. ‘Okay, tomorrow then.’
Rye’s eyes widen slightly before averting. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to wait a few more days–’
‘No. Tomorrow. You’re right, I need to get out of here.’
He nods, a strange urgency filling his expression.
My interest piques. ‘What? Is there a reason we can’t go tomorrow? Is your sister using the house at the moment?’
He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. ‘No – no, it’s not that. Well, I mean, yes, she is but it’s okay. Don’t worry; it’s fine. Tomorrow it is.’ He pauses for a moment, looking back to me with a nervous energy. ‘I have to go,’ he says before dashing back around the corner.
I give a sigh, shaking away Rye’s weird behaviour. ‘Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?’
‘Right,’ he shouts, half out the door already.
‘What time are we…’ The door clicks shut.
I walk back into the lounge, stunned. If this is it and the demon’s really aren’t coming back, it means memories should start to be returned. That was the deal after all. And if that’s the case, I really can’t stay here any longer. I will go back home. Back to my life.
Just as I feared.
I glance over to the back wall. The vase is still in pieces on the floor, pushed to the side. I dare not touch it; I need proof that that day happened. The ice design that had sprawled up the door is now gone, disappeared entirely as if it never existed. It takes a lot to ignore the harsh pang in my chest.
With the dwindling hope I have left, my hand reaches for the crossword book and pen on the coffee table, tearing out a sheet. I stride into the kitchen, sitting down at the small metal table, my mind racing a thousand thoughts, none of them entirely usable or coherent enough to convey.
I only have until tomorrow. This one small piece of paper must somehow contain concisely everything that I want them to know, everything that I want Will to know. I can’t just leave it like this. Like how it ended.
My fingers write several notes all through the night and into the following morning, all of which become scrunched pieces of paper that almost entirely fill the bin nearby. At some point I must drift to sleep as a rhythmic knock dances on the front door early the next morning, indicating my deadline has arrived.
William
‘Please do elaborate,’ I say, my voice coming out sharp. The human boy falters a little, stepping back on guard. It’s no secret that the boy’s reservation for me brings me joy, so a smirk is somewhat hard to suppress. Xander shifts uncomfortably nearby, still stewing in his objection to the plan.
‘She insisted. There was nothing I could do. It has to be today,’ Rye states. ‘You know how stubborn she can be.’
I look down at him. ‘Hm. And I know how submissive you can be. Is it even possible for you to refuse her?’
The human boy glares at me but says nothing. If only he knew how amusingly hypocritical it is of me to be making statements like that. The sole reason he’s needed is because I don’t trust myself to follow through with her. If Siara tells me to stop, I will, regardless of her best interests.
‘No matter. We will proceed as planned. The extraction will just be earlier than expected.’
Xander, filled with alarm, opens his mouth in protest but this time I will not have any of it.
‘No objections.’
The demon boy grinds his teeth, an apparent grief written in stone on his face.
Rye’s gaze wanders from Xander to myself, insinuating what I already know will be the case. Xander will be a problem. If Siara shows the slightest impression of distress, he will intervene.
‘Xander, get the portal ready. We must also inform Heret-Kau of this development.’
He nods reluctantly, a melancholy in his small step.
When far enough away, I catch Rye’s eye. ‘When the extraction is in progress, alert me if you feel there’s going to be any’ – I glance back to Xander – ‘interruptions.’ Rye takes the hint, nodding slightly.
‘I should get going,’ he says as we exchange a final glance. There’s many thoughts that run through my mind – jealousy, sadness, anger – but I say nothing. It is what it is.
