Unhinged (Splintered, #2)(99)

Following a knock at my door, Mom peeks inside.

I motion her in. “Where’s Dad?”

“He went to get some dinner. I suggested he go to cool off. When he comes back, I’ll put the sedatives in his drink.”

I nod, not feeling the least bit hungry, considering what we’re about to do. We’re going to knock out my father for no good reason. It’s the same thing my mother lived through for years at the asylum.

I can tell by her tight lips that she’s as uncomfortable as I am with the idea.

We sit together on my bed with my lights off and the aquarium glowing blue. My eels swim gracefully, like angels under water—a serene counterpoint to the emotional uproar in my head. A thrum of distant thunder echoes my unease.

“I’m sorry.” Mom fluffs my gown’s slip to a cloud of periwinkle netting. “Your father … he’s just out of his mind with worry. Once this is all behind us, he’ll make up with Jeb. I won’t let you go through what I did. He won’t send you to the asylum. Okay?”

I want to believe her, but a soul-deep foreboding is starting to wind through me. “Why can’t we reunite Dad with his memories? He would stop thinking we’re crazy all the time. And we could use his help tonight since Morpheus isn’t here.” My voice falters on Morpheus’s name.

Dad didn’t mention any corpses found wrapped up in the Silly String—large insects or otherwise.

“Sweetie, we can’t bring your dad into this. Those memories would hurt him.”

“More than he’s hurting now?”

Mom looks thoughtful. “I can’t even describe the horrors I saw when I watched his past. Can’t even conceive of what else he must’ve endured.”

I sit quietly, not sure I agree. If he was able to survive the looking-glass world as a child, surely he’s stronger than we’ve ever given him credit for.

I start to point that out, but Mom interrupts me. “Jeb asked to see you. He’s waiting out back under your willow tree.”

My jaw drops. She’s known about our sanctuary all along?

Mom presses her fingertip against my dimple to coax my mouth closed. “Allie, I’m not completely oblivious. I remember what it’s like to be a teenager in love.” She winks, and I smile back. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready. Make sure you don’t get caught in the rain and that you’re inside before Dad gets home.”

I pull on a pair of boots and a hoodie and trek through the garden. The plants and bugs are eerily quiet. The sky swirls overhead—a frothy gray that makes it look like six o’clock instead of four thirty. Cool wind snatches my hair and whips it around my face. The gusts are so loud I can’t hear the fountain gurgling.

Jeb’s already waiting for me, wearing a tight T-shirt with jeans, as if he couldn’t wait to shed Morpheus’s jacket.

He holds a fluttery curtain of willow leaves open, and I duck inside under the green canopy.

Crouching, I hug him. “I’m sorry. My dad didn’t mean any of it.”

“I know.” He kisses my temple and rakes away some leaves so I can sit. “I’m not here so you can pat my head and make me feel better.”

I attempt a smile. “Aw, c’mon. You’d like that.”

He grins. “I’d like a kiss more.” Hazy light filters through the leaves and hits his dimples and labret—making him appear boyish and playful, even though his voice is filled with tension.

We’re both pretending like everything’s right with the world, when it couldn’t be more wrong. We’re being delusional. Jeb shouldn’t be involved in this at all. If Sister Two could take Morpheus down, what chance does a human have in this battle?

“I don’t think you should go tonight,” I blurt out. “Call Jenara and keep her from going, too.”

“Are you kidding me? I’d be in more danger standing between Jen and prom than fighting resurrected toys.”

“Stop joking. This isn’t a game.”

Jeb frowns. “Just like it wasn’t a game when you hid the truth from me all those months because you were afraid it would hurt me.”

Ouch. “Or hurt us,” I say.

Grasping my elbows, he drags me closer. He presses our noses and foreheads together. “We’re stronger than that. And we’re so much better as a team, when our heads are together. It’s when one of us is trying to protect the other by taking everything on ourselves, that’s when we mess up. Don’t you think?”

I sigh. “Yeah,” I answer, reluctant.

“So I won’t stand in your way tonight. You do what you have to do. But don’t ask me to do any less. Deal?”

“But the things we’re facing—”

“Are things I’ve already faced. And like you said, I did pretty good, for a human. And don’t worry about Jen. I’ll get her out if we can’t stop Red from coming through.”

I touch his lips. “This is all so messed up. It’s not what prom should’ve been.”

He kisses my fingertip. “The party might be a bust. But once we send all the creepers running, we can still have our prom night.”

His optimism is contagious, even if it’s a transparent ploy to buoy my spirits when he’s as worried as me.