The Revelation of Light and Dark (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 1)

No, I’m grieving the lost connection I thought I had with my father. The man who loved me beyond all measure, protected me, cried with me, ached when I did. Even in his darkest depressions, it was still comforting to just sit in the quiet and be with him. All of that was because I thought we shared a mutual understanding of what it was like to live with demons in our heads.

And now… that’s gone.

Carrick Byrne took that away from me tonight by telling me I’m not crazy but instead have a unique ability to see things I never knew existed. He made shallow all those moments with my dad I thought were preciously ours alone.

Reaching over into my glove box, I pull out a few napkins I always stash after a fast-food drive-through trip. I dry my eyes, blow my nose, and stare out through the distortion the rain causes on my windshield.

I’m pissed, too.

Because I didn’t have to be admitted to a psych unit, and I didn’t have to take drugs that made me feel like a third of the person I knew I could be, and I didn’t have to have Fallon treat me with kid gloves, pity, and disdain all at once. I didn’t have to have friends look upon me weirdly, and I didn’t have to cause pain to my father, thinking his little girl was going to be just like him.

A tiny sob pops free as I wonder, before my dad died, did he worry I might be on the same trajectory? Did he take that with him as his last thoughts… worried I’d end up with the same fate?

I dab at a few more tears leaking from my eyes and force myself to take a deep breath. It’s late, I haven’t eaten since lunch, and even though I don’t have much of an appetite, I know if I don’t put something in my stomach, I won’t sleep well.

With a sigh, I open the car door and don’t even bother with an umbrella. I’m still dressed in Fallon’s skirt and blouse she loaned me, except I’d pulled the blouse out from the waistband of the skirt for comfort and kicked the heels off. I leave them in the car, grab my purse, and lock up.

Gingerly I walk my bare feet across the crushed gravel driveway in front of my car, across the small sidewalk where weeds grow between the cracks, and up my small stoop that’s lit by a small yellow bulb. It’s in an old sconce that has a broken pane of glass on one side I’ve meant to fix for over a year now.

I’m soaked by the time I unlock the door and let myself in as quietly as possible so as not to wake my roommates. The house is quiet and dark, so I flip on a living room lamp before heading to the kitchen for food.

My heart about bursts through my breastbone when I see Rainey sitting on the couch as soon as the room is illuminated. I give a tiny yip, slapping my hand to my chest as I hiss, “You scared me to death. What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

Scowling, she uncurls from the couch and gathers her blue robe around her as she faces me. “I’m up because I’ve been worried sick about you tonight. You haven’t answered my calls or texts asking where you were. You were supposed to be home after your meeting at Olympic Dreams this afternoon, and you were supposed to cook dinner.”

“You’re angry you didn’t get the pleasure of my cooking tonight?” I snap, although I know that’s not what she’s saying.

“Don’t you dare be a bitch with me, Finley,” she scolds, even wagging a finger. “It’s not that you weren’t here to cook dinner, it’s that you’ve never, ever missed doing so. And when you didn’t respond, I thought you were freaking dead in an alley or something. How could you not have at least let us know you were okay? Myles was beside himself. He ended up drinking four beers while we frantically waited, which, as you know, is enough to put him in a coma. He went to bed about an hour ago.”

“And Adira?” I ask curiously because she’s relatively new to our group.

“She was distressed, obviously. But she had work to do, and she’s been in her room.” Rainey’s lower lip trembles ever so slightly before she adds on, “I didn’t know whether to call the police or not.”

After dropping my purse on the coffee table, I step into Rainey. I lean in, putting my hands on her shoulders. “I’m really sorry. Something came up, and I didn’t even look at my phone at all. That was very irresponsible of me, and it won’t happen again.”