The Hidden - Jessica Verday [5]
Dad turned onto a side road, and our house came into view. A giant banner that said WELCOME HOME, ABBEY! was hanging over the front door.
“Oh, jeez,” I muttered.
“Party time,” Caspian said. “I hope they have those little blower things that make noise.”
His comment made me laugh, and I had to cover it with a fake cough. Dad came to a stop, and Mom opened my door for me. “Let me help you,” she insisted. “You could still be woozy and not even know it until you stand up.”
The doctors had put my arm in a sling because of a sprain. Since I wasn’t used to not being able to use my hand, I put my free arm around her neck, and Caspian slipped out behind me.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Mom said, steering me into the house. “I’m taking a few days off work so I can be here with you.”
I wanted to argue that I was seventeen, not five, but I didn’t have the heart. “I should probably go up to my room and rest for a while,” I said. She nodded, and then escorted me up the stairs. Caspian followed us.
As soon as we entered my bedroom, I noticed that it was different. Gone were the spilled perfumes and broken glass bottles that Vincent Drake had strewn across the floor, yet a smell still clung faintly to the air. I could tell that Mom had probably sprayed some cleaner, because a lemony scent was there too—the unmistakable odor of wood furniture polish—but it didn’t mask the reminder of destruction entirely. A burgundy wingback chair sat in the corner where my perfume cabinet had been. I recognized it as a remnant from the attic.
The red roses that Vincent had placed around the room were cleaned up by Uri and Sophie, but all I had to do was close my eyes to see them again. And to see Vincent lying on my bed, dressed in a black funeral suit, his hair white-blond like Caspian’s, even down to the black streak …
Mom put a hand on my shoulder. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “You don’t have to sleep in here if you don’t want to. I can make up the guest room.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine.” I purposefully went over to my bed and sat down on it. I didn’t want the memory of Vincent to drive me away from here. This is my room. Not his.
Mom came over too, and moved the pillows around, stacking them one on top of the other. Then she turned back one edge of the covers, folding it and unfolding it again.
I caught her hand and held it. “I’m fine, Mom.” I forced a brave smile. She had no idea what had really happened here, and I wasn’t going to let on.
“Is there anything that I can get you?” she said. “Anything you need?”
“Nope. But thanks for the offer.”
She looked at me for a long time without saying anything, her eyes wide and kind of glassy. Then she leaned forward and kissed my forehead before standing up. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.”
“Okay, Mom.” I kept the smile on my face until she left the room, then I slumped against the bed and let out a little sigh. My arm ached, and I lifted the sling with a sad little wave at Caspian. He sat down beside me.
“Hurt myself,” I said.
“I see. Looks like you’re going to need an extra hand.”
“Know any takers?”
“By your side like glue.” He grinned at me, but his eyes were sad.
I wanted to take away the sadness that was there. Make it disappear and have it never return. “What I told Ben goes double for you, you know. It’s not your fault.”
He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. “Yeah, but unlike Ben, it is my job to protect you. Or at least … to do the best that I can. I can’t believe I let that happen.” He smacked his fist against his open palm as he spoke. “Vincent attacked you, and now you’re here, like this, and I’m …”
“Stuck like glue?”
“That’s right,” he said softly, catching my eye. “Stuck like glue.”
“Lucky for you I happen to like glue.” I kicked off my sandals and unzipped my hoodie. It was hard to pull my injured hand through the sleeve, but once it was out, I was able to shrug the shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it on the floor.
Caspian reached down and picked it up. Then he walked