Page 40 of Folds
“Well, don’t worry. You’ll have your evenings back soon enough.” I let my voice soften. It’s hardly worth getting into an argument with the smarmy sheriff at the best of times. I’d rather my last few moments outside of Hill House be peaceful.
“Finally picking up a hobby?” His shoulders relax. Whether due to the lack of a fight or relief that he can stop imposing his presence here, like clockwork, I’m not sure. I do have to wonder if he thinks his nightly visits have been the deciding factor to keep me a law-abiding citizen and not my own professional integrity.
“I’m leaving for Norway in two days.”
I’m not prepared for the shock that crosses his features. I certainly wasn’t expecting my absence to be of any consequence to the self-assured man, but his frown says more than I think he’d care to be giving away.
“You’re moving?”
I could clarify it’s temporary, and reassure him like I did Sarah.
“I am.”
But I don’t.
His expression flickers for a moment, a glimpse of something I can’t quite catch.
“What’s in Norway?”
It’s a benign question, but the tension that passes between us feels significant.
“Night. An abundance of it.” I don’t bother elaborating for a beat. He should know that I’m a chronobiologist. It hasn’t been a secret. For some reason though, I decide to continue. “I study nocturnal botany. Drayring has some of the best in the world, but so does Svalbard.” It feels big to say. I’ve never felt the need toprovide the details of exactly where my interest lies. It felt too much like justification.
“Like, flowers?”
I prickle at the oversimplification, not that I’m unused to it. “Partly.”
He hums to himself for a moment, something unreadable passing behind his eyes yet again.
“So, you’ve never wanted in the house?”
I’m almost startled by his words. I can’t place exactly why. Maybe the tone, maybe the frankness. Maybe something else.
“Not particularly, no,” I answer evenly.
It’s mostly the truth. I had no interest in the building. Not for the sake of my research, anyway. Now, purely out of spite, yeah, sure a little bit.
I turn my gaze back through the bars of the iron gate. I used to bring a notebook. I’d write down everything I could see and the suspicions I had for what might be growing further than the view from here can confirm. After a year, there’s nothing new to notice. Now I just try to appreciate it, and shove down the frustrated injustice that bubbles in my stomach at the fact I’m forbidden from knowing more.
“So you just want to see some flowers?”
Elias jars me out of my thoughts. Usually, he’d have moved on by now. It takes me almost a full ten seconds to realize that he’s said something that requires a response.
“Yes, and the moss, the general foliage.”
The tall man moves toward the gate and pulls a ring of keys out of his pocket. Before he even slides the key into the rusted lock, a sound of disbelief slips past my lips. There is no way it could have been this simple.
“Ground rules.” The way his gaze hits me is intense and uncomfortable. The phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’ taunts the edge of my subconscious, urging me to run.
But I can’t.
“Five minutes. Not a second more. You don’t get near the house. You stay within arm’s reach of me.”
I’m too stunned to articulate even one of the hundreds of very valid questions and thoughts buzzing around my mind, so I land on the easiest.
“Why?”
The smile that tugs his lips up at the corners makes my stomach turn with non-specific dread.
