The remainder of the drive passes in relative silence. Wade drifts off into an easy sleep, while I’m left alone with my thoughts. As expected, anxiety rips through my ribcage and more than once, I have to remind myself to breathe so I won’t be sick.
By the time we pull into Mom’s driveway, the sky has turned a brilliant shade of pink as the sun is close to setting. The house is dark inside, and I suddenly regret not calling to warn Mom about our arrival today.
“Wade, we’re here,” I say, nudging him gently.
He rouses, sitting up straighter in his seat as he looks around sleepily. “Sorry about that. Did I doze off?”
I nod, laughing softly. “Like, for most of the trip.”
He makes a face, wiping at his eyes. “At least the headache seems a bit better now.”
“Good.” I run my hand along his arm. “Well, at least you’ll be well-rested to help me interrogate my mom.” My stomach coils again into knots, writhing like a serpent unable to be tamed.
“Speaking of that, you ready for this?” he asks, still blinking back his grogginess.
I stare at the dark house for a moment before shaking my head. “Not in the least.” With that, I take a deep breath and open my car door.
Wade follows me, trudging through the snow a couple of steps behind.
When I reach the door, I stand there, staring at it as if it’s suddenly some massive obstacle between me and my future.
“Contemplating how the door will bring about world peace?” Wade asks, chuckling under his breath beside me.
I shoot him a sideways glance and lift my arm. Knocking on the door a few times, I take a step back and wait. Mom will be thrilled to see us—that part is certain. It’s what comes afterward that I’m worried about.
The two of us stand there a moment, listening for sounds of movement from inside, but everything remains dark. After another minute, I knock again.
“It’s pretty dark in there. Do you think she’s still at work?” Wade offers, looking at his watch.
“Maybe?” I say. Truthfully, I’ve been so far out of the loop now, I don’t know what her normal routine looks like anymore.
I reach for my phone, pulling it from my coat pocket. Punching the keys for her number, I turn and face Wade, swapping my stance from foot to foot to warm up. The phone rings but ends up going to her voice mail. Dropping the phone, I slide it back into my pocket.
“Nothing, huh?”
I frown. “Nope.”
“Do you have a key? Or do we just—”
My attention is suddenly drawn from Wade to a female figure across the street. Standing beside the lamp post, her slight build and tall frame would be enough to draw my attention, but it’s the red peacoat and oversize hood that makes me stop and stare.
“What is it?” Wade asks, turning his gaze to follow mine.
I chance a glance in his direction as I lean in and whisper, “See that woman over there? Does anything seem…odd about her? She’s staring at us.” A strange, anticipatory energy lingers in the air between us and it’s like I’m drawn to her. Even if I didn’t want to be, I’d be helpless to stop myself.
“Well, this is a small town.” Wade chuckles. “She’s probably checking to make sure we’re not going to rob the place. Who knows…maybe your mom asked her to watch the house while she’s away?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen her before,” I mutter.
When I look back, the woman is gone from the lamp post. Instead, almost as if she teleported, she’s at the other end of the block. Something inside me screams to follow her and without even stopping to tell Wade, I bound down the stairs and take off after her.
“Autumn, wait,” Wade says, leaping from the doorstep and following me.
His feet crunch heavily in the snow behind me, but the only thing I can concentrate on is the woman in front of me. By the time I reach the end of the block, the woman’s red coat disappears into the depths of the graveyard beyond and I pick up speed. I hit the interior of the graveyard, following the direction of the freshly made footsteps, searching for her red coat.
Without a doubt, there’s something important about her—something I need to have answered. If only I can reach her…
“Autumn, wait. What if…” he reaches out, grabbing my hand and pulling me up short. “What if it’s one of the Moirai?”
The word snaps me out of my trance like a slap in the face.
The Moirai…
I blink back my surprise, appalled that the thought hadn’t even entered my mind. It should have been the first thing I thought. Yet the moment I saw her, any concern for myself vanished completely and all I knew was I needed to catch up with her.
“Oh, god,” I say, pressing my fingertips to my mouth.
I spin around on the spot, searching for the woman, but her footsteps have disappeared on the snow, as if she led me here and vanished.
Beside us is a large statue of an angel. I’ve never noticed it before, in the many times I’ve visited this cemetery. Its face is tilted in anguish, tears carved across its marble face that look realistic in the dying sunlight. Its arms are outstretched, as if reaching for an offering. And there, dangling between the outstretched fingers, is another tattered red thread.
My eyes drift to the bronze plate at its feet. The words read: I pledge my soul for your sins and ask God Almighty to remove their burden from you and place them with me to consume.
I shudder at the imagery those words invoke.
Was she leading me here
