Whisper (Whisper #1)(18)
I move to the far side of the bathroom until the mirror is out of sight, and I slide down the wall, drawing my knees up and wrapping my arms around my legs. It’s in this position that Cami finds me when she slowly pushes open the door.
“Jane?”
My eyes remain closed, my head cocooned by arms that protect me from the world.
I can feel her hesitation like it’s a tangible thing. Then something changes, and she moves until she’s sliding down the wall beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I stiffen and try to pull away, but her grip only tightens.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “You’re going to be okay.”
She’s wrong. Nothing is okay. I know this. But there’s something about her tone that soothes my anguish, filling me with peace.
Other than Ward, no one has held me like this in years. We might be on the cold, hard floor of a bathroom, and I might be beating back images that want to destroy me, but with Cami’s arm around me, I feel an illusion of safety. She can’t possibly know how much I need this. I didn’t know. But there’s no denying the comfort of her embrace.
She hums a quiet melody and combs her fingers through my hair. My heartbeat begins to settle, my breathing begins to stabilize, my trembling begins to ease and my thoughts begin to quiet.
I’m not sure how long she cradles me, but eventually she stops humming and softly asks, “Better?”
I nod into her shoulder, knowing I owe her that much.
“Think you’re ready to get up?”
This time I don’t respond, since I dread facing Ward and Enzo after my meltdown.
“The boys are gone,” Cami says, as if reading my thoughts. “You’ve been given the day off, but they haven’t. It’s just us girls now.”
She must feel the remaining tension leak out of me, because she pulls her arm away and stands, holding out a hand for me. I look up at her open, caring face, and I make a decision. I don’t understand — or trust — her brother’s motives, but Cami’s not my evaluator. She doesn’t have to be nice to me. She just is. Even if it turns out that she’s in on Ward’s plans, I don’t have it in me to distrust her, not when my defenses are at an all-time low. So, better judgment or not, I place my hand in hers and let her guide me to my feet and out of the bathroom.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I can’t remember a better day, certainly not since long before I arrived at Lengard.
Cami doesn’t leave my side for more than a few minutes at a time. Maybe Ward put her up to it, maybe she’s just bored, but either way, I don’t mind her presence. She’s talkative — so talkative — and she has a vibrancy about her that, rather than making me feel exhausted, fills me with energy. With her, I smile more in a few hours than I have for years. Unlike Ward and Enzo, she doesn’t gape at me when it happens.
I don’t know what the time is now, just that the day is almost over. Cami and I had a late lunch, and she let me help her in the kitchen again, even if it was just to make sandwiches this time. But sandwiches were perfect for me because, again, they were different — and I’m being reminded more and more today of how wonderful “different” can be.
After lunch, we settled in on Ward’s couch, and we haven’t moved since, mostly because Cami pulled a pile of movies from her bag and we’ve been watching them on the flat screen for hours. It’s been so long since I’ve seen any kind of movie, and I’m enjoying every thrilling second. Especially since Cami cooked up a massive bowl of buttery popcorn — an indulgence I’m sure Enzo will make me work off over my next few sessions.
The credits are rolling at the end of our third movie, when the door to the suite opens. I’m relaxed in Cami’s easy presence, with my feet tucked underneath me and my face cushioned in the armrest. But when Ward walks in with a large paper bag and finds us lounging on the couch together, I stiffen automatically.
“Hey, Lando,” Cami greets.
Her head is resting on the crook of my bent knee. She refuses to budge even when I shift my leg pointedly under her.
Ward has frozen just inside the doorway and is staring at the two of us like he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. I don’t blame him. I doubt he’s ever seen me so off guard.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Aunt Esther invited us over for dinner.” His eyes shift to me. “She wants to make sure you’re okay, Chip.” He moves closer and hands me the bag he’s carrying. “This is for you.”
His offering causes Cami to sit up — finally — and she peers into the bag with me as I open it.
“Oooh, pretty,” Cami coos, reaching for the material inside and holding it up against my rigid body. “Good pick, Landon. It’s the perfect color for her. But where did it come from? If you were going topside today, you should’ve taken us with you — especially to go shopping.”
Ward ignores her. “Esther wants us there in ten, so do what you need to get ready. Enzo is meeting us there.”
I think he says the last as a warning to me. Not that it’s necessary. I’m already panicking, mostly because of the dress. I don’t need to put it on to know it’s the most beautiful thing I’ll have worn in years. And sure enough, after a quick trip to the bathroom to change out of Ward’s borrowed clothes, I’m left staring once again in the mirror, startled anew by the person I see staring back at me.