Verum (The Nocte Trilogy 2)

Calla Elizabeth Price.

Female twin to Finn. Red hair, blue eyes, 5’7”. Dress size, six. Shoe size, eight. Attended public high school at Astoria High. Grade point average, 3.9. Allergies, nuts.

My eyes continue to skim over my own statistics, down to the more nitty-gritty. Mental health.

Her brother Finn was found to be schizoaffective when they were five, diagnosed by American doctors and treated with Lithium and Haldol, with the occasional Xanax for panic attacks. Symptoms of his disease are hallucinations, delusions, mood swings, mania/depressions.

Calla on the other hand…

“What are you doing in here?”

I recognize Sabine’s voice immediately from her stance in the doorway, and I fluidly close the file and slide it back in the drawer in one motion.

“Uh…” my heart pounds. “I’m hunting for something.”

Sabine doesn’t move, but her dark eyes gleam in the night.

“What are you searching for, child?”

I watch her face, waiting for her to flip on the light, for her to pick up her phone and call Eleanor, waiting for her to do something. But she doesn’t. She lingers in the doorway, waiting for me to answer.

“Explanations,” I offer unapologetically, not moving from where I stand.

Sabine enters the room soundlessly, her tiny body moving across the room.

“Answers that are not freely given aren’t really answers at all,” she tells me, each word a mystery.

I take a step, then another, then pa

use.

“Do you know the answers, Sabine?”

Sabine cocks her head, her white hair glowing in the night. “I know more than many, but my answers aren’t ones you would like,” she finally says.

“I was afraid of that,” I sigh. “Do you know what time Dare got home tonight?”

Sabine looks at me curiously. “I wasn’t paying close attention. He went into town to buy flowers for his mother. I’m sure he spent time in the crypts tonight. He usually does, child. You aren’t the only one who suffered a loss, you know.”

I know.

“Is there something I should know about his mother?” I whisper, staring at the old lady, imploring her. “I feel like there is.”

Sabine stops moving, her wrinkled hand on the door. “Use the sense God gave you. You have instincts for a reason, we all do. Listen to them. And don’t get caught in Eleanor’s study again.”

With that, the old woman is gone and I’m left alone in the chilling room. The very air in here feels like Eleanor, heavy, stern, smelling like orchids. It’s cloying and unpleasant, much like Eleanor herself.

I rush to leave. When I’m all the way down the hall, I have the overwhelming need to turn around, and when I do, I almost expect Eleanor to be standing there, to be watching me.

But of course no one is there.

Whitley is getting to me.

I hurry toward my room, but once I reach it, I hear voices coming from within.

Finn’s voice.

My imagination has unleashed itself, and I dash inside my room to find my brother thrashing about, muttering words I can’t understand.