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

Her eyes soften slightly, but she crosses her arms over her chest. “What was so important? And why have you been crying?”

My hands fall away from her and I pivot, heading into the kitchen. It’s not hunger driving me there, but a need to avoid her probing gaze. I can’t tell her where I was or what I learned or why I was crying. Rainey follows me in, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

I use the time as I rummage through the fridge, trying to find a suitable lie so she doesn’t push at me. Because if she did, I might confess all, and she’d think I was doubly crazy than what she originally knew about my supposed mental health issues.

It wasn’t right away, but a few years into our friendship, when Rainey started feeling more like a sister to me than Fallon, I told her all about my psychiatric history. I trusted her enough that she wouldn’t look at me in fear or pity, but rather in understanding.

And she did. I eventually told Myles, too, but it’s not something I feel close enough to Adira to share.

But it’s been a long time since Rainey and I have even discussed it because I’ve been keeping my hallucinations—correction, glimpses beneath veils or glamours or whatever Carrick called it—to myself. My mental health issues haven’t been an actual issue for years.

When I straighten, pulling an apple out of the crisper, I say, “The interview with Olympic Dreams didn’t go well.”

“Oh, no,” she croons, her face softening in sympathy. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” I say with an emphatic shake of my head. I put the apple on the counter, then move to a cabinet for some peanut butter. Grabbing a plate and paring knife, I bring my late-night dinner to the table.

Rainey watches me in silence as I slice pieces of apple and dip them right in the peanut butter jar. On my third slice, she asks, “Still doesn’t explain where you’ve been for hours?”

My gaze slides to her, and I give her a cheeky grin. “Since when did you become my mom and have the right to know my whereabouts?”

She narrows her eyes. “Okay… fair point. Then tell me why you were crying.”

“I told you,” I reply vaguely, cutting another piece of apple. “The meeting with Olympic Dreams didn’t go well. I’m not getting the grant. I’m upset.”

“Bullshit,” Rainey growls, leaning in closer. “Finley Porter doesn’t cry over things like that. Try again.”

She knows me too well ever to let me get away with that lame excuse, but no matter how close we are and how much we love each other, I could never tell her what’s actually going on.

Because in the end, she would think I was hallucinating again. As much as she loves me and trusts me, she’d never believe me. In fact, there’s not one person in this world who would believe me except Carrick Byrne.

The isolation caused by this nearly crushes me.

Pushing the plate away, I cross my forearms on the table and lean in toward Rainey just slightly. “Have you ever had something in your life you believed in so completely, but then at some point found out it was all a big lie?”

She frowns, worry pooling in her eyes. “You mean like a crisis of faith or something?”

“That could be a good example,” I concede. “Something on par with that.”

Rainey pulls her lower lip into her mouth and thinks before ultimately giving a slow shake of her head. “I can’t say I have. But I’m thinking this has happened to you. What is it?”

Smiling, I shake my head. “It’s nothing, really.”

“It made you cry,” she points out.

My expression sobers, and I reach across the table to take her hand. Giving it a hard squeeze, I keep it clasped tightly in mine. “I can’t tell you, Rainey. It’s just something I have to keep to myself for now.”

That clearly doesn’t reassure her. Her voice lowers to a whisper. “Are you… um… doing okay mentally?”

When I told Rainey about my psychiatric history, I held back nothing. She knows about my hallucinations, the doctors, and the medications. She never saw any of it because by the time we’d met, I had them well controlled and had tossed the pills.

But she did know I suffered for it.

I give her hand another squeeze. For the first time since leaving Carrick’s condo, I give her a genuine smile. “Actually, that is one thing I have firmly in hand and is causing me no problems whatsoever.”

And that is such a sweet truth to be able to say, especially since I’ve lied about it to so many people for so long. But I know now that I’m not crazy. I just have a remarkable gift that made me think I was.

Rainey sighs with obvious relief, and she tugs her hand away. Nodding at my plate, she urges, “Finish your dinner. But you should eat something more than an apple.”