I didn’t say a word as she left. The greenhouse door squeaked as she opened and closed it behind her, leaving me in sweltering soup.
My eyes zeroed in on the green wrapping. It blended so well in here with bright leaves and glowing sunshine. It almost looked alive, as if it shimmered with Dad’s energy, granting him a small portal in which to interact.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” I muttered. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
No reply.
No air to circulate. No trees to rustle.
Just hot, sticky oxygen.
Gritting my teeth, I snatched the box. It wasn’t big. Barely palm size. It only took a second to tear at the paper and lift the lid.
I’d expected another tool. Something in the theme of a Swiss Army knife or compass.
Instead, I found something that stole the strength from my knees and buckled me against the table.
A note fluttered to the dirty concrete.
My hands shook as I ducked and unfolded it, recognising my father’s scrawl.
Hi Jacob,
By now, the girl you’ve fallen in love with will be jealous of Della’s blue ribbon. Any pretty girl should wear a ribbon. So give this to yours. Tell her it’s from someone who’s incredibly grateful she’s fallen in love with his son. Tell her I know she’s chosen well because once she’s claimed the heart of a Wild, she’ll never be alone again.
Love you, Wild One.
Dad.
Tipping the box, I glowered as a lacy cream ribbon unspooled. Elegant and old-worldly, the gift was as intricate and delicate as the lace Hope kept tucked tight in her locket.
Out of all the things.
Out of all the ribbons.
He had to buy a piece of lace for the girl nicknamed after it.
Chills scattered down my back. Was there no divide between this world and the next?
There couldn’t be because in that terrifying moment, I stood on the edge of its never-ending vastness.
I heard my goddamn father chuckle for shocking me so completely.
I couldn’t deal with this right now.
If he intended to make me slip further into crazy, it’d worked.
Plucking the ribbon from the floor, I shook the filigree fabric free from soil and snaked it back into the box.
The lid went on.
The presence of my father vanished.
And I stormed from the greenhouse for fresh air and sanity.
Forrest was waiting for me.
He understood.
And together, we flew away where no ghost or human could find us.
* * * * *
I was alone.
I’d always been alone.
A single entity in a big, black forever.
But slowly, a pinprick of light appeared, then another and another and another, spreading out like a giant clock and I was the centre dial.
Faces appeared.
Dad.
Patricia.
John.
Mom.
Nina.
Chip.
Hope.
Everyone I had ever loved or known morphed into being. Spotlights on all of them, faces shining but bodies barely visible.
I wanted to go to someone.
But who?
They were all spread out, scattered on the timepiece of life, separate and alone.
A compass appeared in my hand.
A compass given to me with an inscription in the metal telling me to find my true path. I clutched it tight, begging it to show me the way.
But it started spinning.
Faster and faster, blurring the outside world.
The faces were no more, just a blend of features as they spun like a vortex around me.
I grew dizzy.
I closed my eyes.
The compass whirred like a living thing in my hand.
It stopped.
I opened my eyes.
Everyone was gone.
Only a single figure stood before me.
The compass needle honed directly on her.
A girl bathed in a spider-web of light.
A lace-loving girl with hope in her eyes and love in her heart.
The compass warmed, nudging me that this was the right choice. This was my correct and chosen path.
I trusted it.
I stepped toward her.
But then, in a bang as deafening as a gunshot, she fell.
Her eyes closed.
Her body crumpled.
And all that was left was my compass pointing at a corpse.
I woke up drenched in panic.
My hands fumbled as I shot from my wet sheets and struggled to turn on my bedside light. I needed illumination. I needed to delete the sight of Hope dead on the floor by my feet.
The second the light clicked on, I launched out of bed.
Nausea bubbled. Dizziness made me stumble. I grappled with the wall as I tripped into my walk-in wardrobe and fell to my knees where I’d hidden Dad’s gifts.
I tipped the plastic bag upside down and counted the tiny parcels.
One, two, three.
Three more to give to my mother.
Three more requests from my dead father.
All of them centred around the girl I was destined to fall in love with. Marry. Have children with.
Things that would never be feasible.
I didn’t want those things.
I couldn’t have those things.
Therefore, none of those events would come to pass.
Which meant Mom would never have the gifts selected for her by her deceased husband.
They’d rot in their pretty wrapping, never to be given.
No.
It couldn’t happen.
I wouldn’t be the cause of such tragedy.