Page 129 of Nightshade

The memory of it, so vivid in my head, sent a calm through me, as Anya tucked me under the covers.

“Listen to me, I didn’t want to frighten you, but it’s best you know. This cathedral is riddled with spirits, past and present.”

“You’re telling me it’s haunted?”

“Very much.”

“No. I don’t know what you get out of making me look crazy, but Aurelia was not made up in my head. She was real.” Was she, though? Could I remember her face, even then, as I recalled the night before, cradling her head on the floor of my bedroom while she bled out? Was her voice so clear in my head that I could distinguish it from any of the other girls who worked there?

If I were being honest, the answer was no. The edges were both wispy and grainy, out of focus. I stared off, focusing hard on the visual of Aurelia’s eyes--I couldn’t remember their color.

I’d stared into the girl’s face as she lay dying, and yet, I couldn’t say if they’d been blue, or brown, or purple.

“The times you sat eating alone, I’d often catch you talking to yourself,” Anya added, not helping my state of mind, whatsoever. “Figured it might’ve just been thinking aloud, or something.”

Exhausted by the conversation and the argument for my sanity, I rubbed my forehead. “Look, you’re taking the joke too far. Just tell me where she is.”

Pushing up from the bed, Anya patted my leg. “I can see you need a bit more rest. I’ll take care of the mongrels this afternoon.”

What if Aurelia had been nothing more than just a figment of my imagination? That certainly didn’t bode well for my state of mind in this place. “I need to get out of here. I want to leave. Now.”

“If that’s what you choose, but I would urge you to rest before you travel, fair?”

For whatever reason, I was exhausted, which only made me question everything more. And, in turn, had my head pounding harder. “Fine. I want the key to this room, though.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re not locking me in here, but I do intend to lock all of you out.” Hand outstretched, I flicked my fingers for her to hand it over. I couldn’t even think of a reason why they’d want to keep me there, unless to devour me, as well. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t be taking any chances.

Lips pressed to a hard line, Anya reached into a pocket of her dress and retrieved a set of keys on an oversized hoop. She removed one of them and held it up for me to see. “The key to your room. As strange a request as this is. I’ll ask that you return it to me promptly before you leave.”

“Of course. What need would I have for a key to a random room?”

“There are a number of things I question at the moment, dear. But again, I understand you’re not feeling well. I’ll have some food brought to you. It’ll be set outside the door for whenever you’re willing to open it.”

As she ambled out of the room, I stared after her, trying to wrap my head around the events of the morning. I hadn’t lost my mind, right? I could still remember who I was. In a panic, I sat at the edge of the bed recalling Camael. Her fur. Her scent. The sound of her purr. Aunt Nelle’s house and the ferns she’d tasked me to care for. Aunt Nelle looking peaceful as she lay in her casket. The inside had been pink satin, and I remembered having laughed inappropriately at the thought that she looked like she was being buried inside a clam.

I hadn’t yet lost the memories of my life. Why? Had I not been here long enough? Every detail remained so vivid inside my head.

Yet, I still couldn’t quite recall the pitch of Aurelia’s voice that I’d heard just the night before.

I kicked myself back toward the headboard, my arm knocking into the book lying beside me, and the page flopped opened to the picture at the beginning. The one I’d examined back in the library.

Something new caught my eye, though.

Frowning, I leaned in, gaze anchored on the young girl, who I’d come to realize from my reading was Lustina. Only, she didn’t look the way I remembered her looking when I first picked up the book.

As I recalled, when I began reading the night before, her face had been blurred by a smudge of paint. Suddenly, it was as clear as the possibility that I had truly lost my mind.

I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth, tendrils of panic curling down my spine in vines of terror.

The girl in the picture was me.

Worse still, a young woman standing beside me, fully garbed in a nun’s robe, was Aurelia.

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Lustina