Author: Eden Beck
Category: Paranormal
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/29741_16
Even as I ask it, I feel a slight racing of my heart. I can still hear that howl in my memory. Still see the rustle of leaves, the flash of fur.
Romulus avoids my question completely.
“It’s just a friendly bit of advice,” he says.
Funny, it doesn’t sound all that friendly to me. For a minute we just stand there glaring at each other.
“Can you let go of my wrist?” I ask, trying to sound as pissed-off as I possibly can without letting him hear my voice shake.
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“My apologies.”
As soon as he lets go of me, I storm up the steps and past my mom who has just returned with two cups of tea in hand. She tries to call after me, something about chamomile and mint calming nerves, but I’m not listening.
I ignore all of it and climb the ladder to the loft, where I can still hear them talking for another couple of minutes. Mom offers Romulus the teacup that was meant for me, but he politely declines. He asks her a couple of questions about our move here, which I’m proud of her for answering as evasively as Romulus tried earlier.
My mom knows how to be careful, just not as careful as me.
Finally, I hear the conversation tapering off.
“Enjoy your evening, Deliah. It was lovely meeting you.” The words signal the end of the conversation, and I know his visit has finally, thankfully, ended.
The door closes and I wait, my back leaned against the wooden slats of the wall, while my mother climbs the creaking rungs of the ladder up to look at me. The mattress up here covers literally every inch of floor space, so she simply stops on the top rung, rests her chin on her folded hands, and stares at me.
“You okay?” she asks.
I lift my head up to look at her.
“Yeah, I’m fine. First day and all.”
She finishes climbing the ladder and squeezes onto the mattress next to me. She holds her arm out for me to lay on her shoulder and starts running her fingers through my hair as soon as I accept the invitation.
The small, rhythmic motions lull my mind into silence. She used to do that when I was a little girl too. It would help me fall asleep on the rough nights that seemed like they would go on forever. Now the nights are a different kind of rough, less violent, but sometimes … just as lonely.
; “I don’t trust him,” I say quietly after a few minutes have passed.
“Who, Romulus?”
“Yeah.”
“He seems harmless enough,” she says.
I sit up in bed and peer at her. “Did you listen to anything he said? I mean, really listen? I just don’t trust him.”
I don’t realize how what I just said really sounds until I see my mother’s face pinch up, and her body shift subtly away from me.
“Of course, I listened to him,” she says, carefully, “I’m just trying to stay positive.”
“Sure, but …”
I’m not even entirely sure what I was going to say, but my mother has already decided she’s had enough.
“Sabrina, come on,” she snaps, getting up and starting down the ladder with surprising speed, “enough of this.”
I scramble to the edge of the ladder after her, but I don’t follow her down.
“What’re you talking about?”