And the Trees Crept In(37)

He shakes his head like he wants to rid himself of the things inside it. “How did you find me?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Tell me, Gowan. How long?”

“Since the night I left.”

“You’ve been hiding out in my library for three weeks?”

I find myself trying not to laugh, and he smiles slowly. “I didn’t want to leave. I just couldn’t.…”

There is a lot to say.

You stole my whisper note.

You left me a letter.

Green paper. Like the apple…

You left me apples.

To help or to torture?

Why did you leave?

I hate you for that.

I want to hate you for that.

I’m so happy to see you.

You came back.

“You never left.”

He shakes his head. “Are you… are you okay?”

I don’t think he’s really asking me that. “I’m fine. I just… I couldn’t sleep.”

I know how I’ve changed. How I must look. So much hair has fallen out. I’ve lost five teeth, my nails are thin and brittle, and my skin feels too tight.

Cathy’s creaking never reaches me in this room, but the memory of it is enough to make me clench my teeth—the ones that are left. Gowan spots it.

“What?”

Creeeeaaaak.

Stop it.

“I… I hate this place.”

Creeeeeeeeeak.

He doesn’t ask me why I don’t leave.

“Why don’t we kill each other?” I don’t know where the question has come from. But it feels important to ask.

I sit down, close to him, and wait.

“Silla, you can’t be serious.”

“I am. You kill me, I kill you. We’ll do it at the same time.”

He closes his eyes. “Stop it.”

“I’ll have to kill Nori first, of course. That would be difficult.”

“Silla, stop—” He gets to his feet, stumbles, and steadies himself on the bookcase. I watch the muscles in his back move as he breathes.

“Don’t say things like that to me ever again. Please.”

I stand, putting a hand on the middle of his back. “I’m sorry.” I’m tempted to kiss the back of his neck, taste his sweat.

I don’t.

“You just left,” I say quietly, as if this will explain my momentary weakness.

He turns to me slowly. “I promise,” he says, voice low, “I promise I won’t hurt you again, if I can help it. I promise you. You’re… vital to me.”

Vital. I don’t even know what that means. Still, I nod and I even manage a smile.

Some people don’t realize they are liars, even when they are.

“I saw some boxes in the basement,” he says after a while. “We could see if they have any food. Tins or dry goods.”

I glance down at the library door, firmly shut and locked. “I don’t want to go out there.…” I can’t stop hearing that sound… that fleshy thud! and the way I felt chased.…

“There’s a secret passage. I could show you.”

And he does.

It’s hidden on the ground floor, between two of the last bookcases. A gap so small and dark I missed it for years. Gowan slips in and pulls me after him. Close… we are so close. He never lets go of my hand. We walk a few paces and then there is a click as Gowan opens a door. He takes me down three steps, and then we are facing a staircase. Concrete, all of it, heading into the dark.

I don’t want to go, but he has my hand, so I follow him deeper. It goes on for a long time, this tiny, suffocating space, spiraling down until I feel sure we’re just twisting ourselves into the earth like screws.

Then we are in the basement. No glamour. No tricks. No hidden locks or passwords.

The basement is just there in front of us. Huge and black and empty. And the windows, completely covered over with soil. Gowan doesn’t say anything. I don’t know if he sees. But him being here and me not being alone is enough of a reason to not bring it up. I want to protect this moment.

We don’t find any food.

But we do find a stupid supply of wine. I grin and look at Gowan and he grins right back.

“Let’s forget this whole damn thing,” he says, offering his hand.

I take it, and we each grab two bottles of wine and run upstairs, cackling.





“Let’s drink to the irony.” Gowan raises his bottle in a toast. “No real food, plenty of alcohol. We could make passable college students yet.”

The cork crumbles into the wine, and it doesn’t taste particularly nice, but soon we are sprawled on the library floor in front of the fire, laughing and singing.

“… and her toe was sticking out of the slipper like this tiny little sausage!”

I can’t contain my roar of laughter. One bottle of wine is gone. The embers burn low. The house cools and sighs.

“I’ve never had a boy over before. Overnight, I mean.”

Gowan looks at me.

“It’s kise to have numpany.”

His eyes widen and we howl with laughter again until I’ve got tears streaming down my face and I can’t talk. He’s not doing much better.