Page 69 of Among the Screaming Trees

“I have been! Fucking hell. Jack and I met in Colorado while studying the same course you are now. Your mother and father were both present, which is how we came to hear about the Pepperberry and Arthur continuing her research after she…”

“Died. After she died.”

“Yes.” There’s a long pause; I wait it out with my exhale trapped in my lungs.

“When all of us were in your office, one of the dealbreakers was honesty. We all agreed, Elijah, even you, to be honest.”

“I have been, Aspen,” he roars, the frustration clear in his volume and tone.

“If I hadn’t stumbled across that photograph, would you ever have told me you, Jack, and Mom were not only at college together, but close? For some reason, I assumed you studied up here at the school bearing your family name.”

“I’m not responsible for what conclusions you come to on your own, Aspen. That’s not fair. Wyldan didn’t offer botanical science until after I studied it. Even then, I only returned to join as faculty right as you did.”

Aspen lets out a sigh. She’s just as frustrated with him as he is with her.

“So you, Jack, and Mom were all Arthur’s students, then what happened? She and Dad got together and had me, and you and Jack went your separate ways? Is that correct? I feel like I’m pulling fucking teeth here, Professor. If I don’t ask a specific question, this information isn’t something you will volunteer. Do you understand my irritation at the flow of communication, or lack thereof?”

Her tone is biting, but Elijah Wyldan is a Wyldan, and he’ll bite right back.

“Jack, can you come down, please? I know you’re eavesdropping.” Motherfucker!

I throw on a shirt and make my way down the mahogany steps, the rich wood creaking under my weight. Now I’m glad I didn’t listen from the top stair; I would have felt more exposed then.

“Aspen and I already had this conversation, Eli. I’ve spent the whole day with her, remember?”

“As if I could forget,” he deadpans, his jaw rigid. Not my fault you two got into an argument, Professor, and definitely not my fault that she took off into your woods. I also make no apologies for tracking her down and getting her to the cabin safely, nor for anything that occurred inside those hewn timber walls.” If you could have seen her fierce spirit, man, her fire. She burns exactly like Aster used to.

“Jack, I know you told me you also studied down in Georgia for a while and worked in private practice after Colorado. Elijah, what direction did your further studies or work take you after Colorado? I want to look you both in the eyes while you explain this, because something isn’t quite adding up, and I can’t work out what’s missing, other than my mother and father. Well, Mom isn’t missing, but Dad is. Why would that be, Elijah?”

He whirls around, his face a mask of tempest and thunder. “You believe I had something to do with Arthur’s disappearance?” he asks, incredulous.

“Did you?” Aspen goads.

“No!”

“All that money, you could have made it look like an accident…”

“Why the fuck would I want anything to happen to Arthur Aldereyne? We were student and professor. We got along well. There was no bad blood between your dad and I, in fact, he wrote letters of recommendation for me. I am not an enemy here, Aspen. Why would I bother nabbing my old college professor when it meant his only daughter was left on her own? Your ramblings make little sense. Are you still dehydrated from your recent hike? Did you perhaps strike your head?”

“I’m not dehydrated or concussed. I’m seeking answers.”

“That we don’t have.” Eli gestures between my shoulder and his. Aspen chews on her bottom lip, regarding us both.

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird that you were friends with my mother, and are now in a sexual type of something with me? That question is for you, Jack, because we haven’t been intimate, obviously,” she says to Elijah, who thrusts his hands deeper into his pockets. Then the light bulb illuminates.

“Wait a minute. Elijah Wyldan, are you my Larcher?”

“That’s not how the Larch works…”

She stares at him for so long I’m concerned he’s going to combust. “Hemerocalis. It’s all I have left. The lily, Elijah. Are you my Larcher?” Each word punches from her sternum.

“Yes,” he replies, eyeing her straight back. “Hemerocalis, Eli’s Monster.”

“No fucking way. That was you? How are you a monster?”

Oh, Aspen, honey. How long have you got?

“But we never slept together? Unless…” Her head cants, each rivet of new information slotting into a designated void. “That was you? Through my window, wasn’t it?”