Some Quiet Place

of her chin. “The key words there are told you not to. You deliberately went against my warning. He’s been looking for you, and I knew he’d be drawn to that party like a moth to a flame.”

“Why was he after me?” I ask bluntly.

Now she sighs, walking to the window to peer out. “You’re so stubborn. If you would just … ” She stops, begins again. “One of the side effects of the illusion on you is that I can’t tell you a thing about why I placed it in the first p-place. If I’m around when you discover something from the past, I have no choice b-but to remove the evidence.” She grips the windowsill with white fingers. “My own essence makes sure I do, and that I don’t speak of it, or it causes me searing pain. Which is part of the reason I’ve been so vague with you.”

An illusion? That’s when I put another piece of the puzzle together. She’s the one who made the newspaper disappear. How long has she been watching me?

Putting aside thousands of questions—about this, about Nightmare, Landon’s murder, their mother and the stone house, my past, the power—I ask the question that’s been stalking me since all this began. “Do you know why Courage told me I would need Joshua?”

“Because I told him I thought the boy could break through!” she explodes. She’s agitated; she speaks with her arms, waving them around her head and pacing the floor. “It would’ve been the quickest way. It seemed like you were feeling something for him. All the signs were there! You were smiling, letting him close. I saw the way you looked at him when he brought you to see those ridiculous bugs.” Then, abruptly, she stops, rubbing her temples. She forces her tone to be even. “I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since … ” She trails off, shaking her head.

Since when? Where do I fit into all this? For a moment I experience the faintest, faintest stirrings of frustration. So many questions she won’t answer. Even though it’s useless, I can’t help but ask, “Who am I?”

She blatantly ignores the question, of course, preferring to finger the edge of my blanket and focus on the material. Her nose wrinkles with disgust. “Hate hospitals,” she mutters to herself.

“This … illusion, as you call it, was put on me a long time ago, and you only recently sought me out. Why did you hide for so long?” I ask next. “Why all the games?”

Restless again, Rebecca stalks over to the wall to examine a painting hanging there. Her hood slips a little, and she catches it with fast fingers, putting it back over her face. “I already told you,” she says. “I can’t do anything but watch. In the beginning, I did stay. After a while I realized how pointless that was, so I left. But when I caught wind that he was hanging around Edson, I couldn’t just do nothing, so I came back. I had to warn you. Little good it did. My only hope of the illusion breaking was the kid. That way, you would have your powers to defend yourself against that monster.”

Powers? What am I? But of course I won’t get an answer if I ask. “You can’t remove it?” I ask her instead, following her with my eyes as she moves around the room.

She shakes her head. I study the small scrap of her face that I can see; she has a full bottom lip. “No. It fades with time, and if it’s to be removed sooner than it’s meant to be, only you can do it—by feeling heightened emotion, like love or terror or grief. It’s happening, though; I bet you’ve noticed. Emotions are breaking through. Your own power really is too strong to be restrained for long.”

“It’s been restrained for more than thirteen years,” I tell her, resisting the urge to ask about my abilities.

“Because you are unbelievably adept at lying to yourself. Truly, I’m amazed.”

Maintaining a firm hold on all of this information is a bit difficult. I’m silent, taking it all in.

Rebecca isn’t going to give me much time. “But”—she whips back around—“you need to break my illusion now. I could take you away from here. Then again, there’s really no point. Now that he’s found you, he’ll hunt you down no matter where you go. Until you remember, you’ll be helpless.”

“And how do you suggest I feel ‘heightened emotion’?” I ask her coolly.

Air hisses through her teeth as she exhales. “That’s the point, stupid. You could remember right now if you wanted to. All of this is a choice on your part. If you really want to know the truth, it’s there at your fingertips. Take it so that we can all get on with our lives.”

I purse my lips, nodding slowly. “So you expect me to sit and wait for Nightmare—”

“Don’t say his name!” She whirls as if the Element will be standing in the doorway, staring at us. When she sees we’re still alone, she relaxes slightly, her alarm turning to fury. “Stupid,” she spits at me yet again. “You’re endangering us both. You don’t have to be asleep for him to reach you.”

“What does he want?” I repeat, more sharply this time. “Why is he after me?”

“Power,” is all Rebecca says. Then she relents and adds, “Blood from the other plane is like a drug to him. A rush. He no longer feels the need to answer his summons. Our kind knows that he’s gone insane, but so far he’s managed to avoid getting killed.” She continues to pick at the blanket some more.

“Are there others like him?” I ask.

“Members of the other plane have no desire to start a civil war,” she answers in a dismissive tone. I turn my face to the window. Outside, it’s getting darker. The sun is almost gone as it sinks into the ocean of sky. There’s a small lamp on in the corner of my room, casting deceptive serenity over the room.

Fear should be here, harassing me. The thought comes from nowhere, and a lump forms in my throat. Thinking of him continues to causes that odd, painful sensation on my chest. I recall that vivid dream, the way he’d run his fingers down Rebecca’s spine. Something curls in my stomach. Something like … envy.

“ … even listening?” Rebecca snaps, springing. She flicks me on the temple with her nimble fingers. Hard. I swat at her like she’s a fly, but she’s already yards away.

“How much you have to learn,” she mocks. “And unless you learn fast, little girl, that monster will find you, and he’ll take your power for his own.”

The words hit me suddenly. Nightmare isn’t gone. Of course not. He’s out there somewhere, waiting for a second chance. And unless something changes soon—I regain all my memories and I break the illusion, or I leave Edson behind forever—he’ll seize the next opportunity and I’ll be dead. What happened to Fear will be merciful in comparison to what the Element will do to me.

My stomach lurches at the thought, and again the memory of Fear’s anguished expression assails me. I sit up, debating whether or not to leave the bed and the room and go. Follow Sarah’s footsteps in venturing beyond this tiny town, leaving behind the conflict and the malicious, petty intents. What was once keeping me here doesn’t seem to exist anymore, or maybe it just doesn’t matter.

Rebecca sighs yet again, suddenly losing her fire. Her shoulders slump. I appraise her thoughtfully. How strong do you have to be, to go on after an experience as horrific as hers? The bloody death of a brother, running for years and years. I try to picture what she looks like under that hood, an expression other than the one that she wears in my dreams over and over again. “Why—” I start.

She shakes her head, scowling. “No more questions! Think! Haven’t you noticed that p-people are d-drawn to you?” She bends to hold her stomach but continues determinedly, “Why is that? Haven’t you ever stopped to wonder? Just break the damn illusion! And stay alive until you do. I might not be able to get the boy to you in time if this happens again.”

Wait. Rebecca is the one who saved me? She’s the one who warned Joshua? I open my mouth to respond, but then the rest of her words sink in. Drawn to you. Morgan. Maggie. Fear. Joshua. There was no reason for any of them to pursue me. She’s right. But I can’t begin to puzzle out why. I lift my gaze again to implore, “Can’t you—”

She cuts me off with a downward slash of her hand and walks away. Her footsteps are soundless. At the door she pauses, inclining her head thoughtfully. “One more thing.” She turns and flattens her palms against either side of the doorway. Her tone is hard. “Fear isn’t dead. He’s nearby, in fact, since he was too injured to move very far. While that monster was distracted with you, I pulled him into the woods. I’m doing my best to make sure that he lives. I’ll return once you’ve remembered everything.” She gives me her back again.

I raise my voice to stop her. “Fear thought you were dead. All this time he was mourning you. Why didn’t you tell him? Did you think you were … protecting him?”

She pauses but doesn’t turn this time. Finally she says, so softly, “I wasn’t the one he was looking for.” I frown. But before I can utter another word, she’s gone.

Maybe not quite gone. A second later, her voice sounds from farther down the hall: “If you get killed, I swear I’ll bring you back from the dead just to kill you again myself!”