“Of course,” he said. “There’s gonna be no stopping you once you get started.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, a swell of emotion surging through her at his words. “It means a lot that you believe in me.”
“I’d be an idiot not to,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “You know, we never finished our conversation from the other day.”
“Which one?”
“The one about your freedom.”
Haven sighed, snuggling closer to him. “What else is there to say?”
“I wanna hear what it really means to you.”
* * *
They spent the next hour sitting together in front of the window in the dark library, digging into each other’s minds. They didn’t talk about the torture they had endured or the hurt they still felt, instead focusing on the things that made them happy. He asked about her deepest desires, wanting to know what kind of things she would do if she woke up tomorrow with a clean slate. What would she do, if someday, she could start over, brand new?
She talked of friends and a family, a house full of books and half a dozen pets. The American Dream, complete with two-point-five kids and a freshly painted white picket fence, weekend barbecues with neighbors and summer vacations to Disneyland.
It felt like everything else faded away that long moment, the reality of their situation taking a back seat as they considered an alternate future, one Haven had always wanted but never believed she could have. A future away from it all. A future with no strings.
Freedom.
“I just want people to see me,” she said. “I want to walk into a room and have them know I’m there. It doesn’t matter where it is, really. I’m just don’t want to be invisible anymore.”
Carmine ran the back of his hand along her warm cheek. She hummed contently, leaning into his touch.
“I see you, hummingbird,” he whispered, a twinkle in his eyes.
“I know you do.”
“You wanna know what else I see?”
“What?” she asked.
He nodded toward the window. “Snow.”
Haven glanced over, spotting the thick white flakes fluttering down from the sky. Before she could comment, Carmine jumped up and yanked her to her feet. “Come on.”
She laughed as he pulled her into the bedroom. “What are we doing?”
“We’re going outside.”
“Now?” she asked with disbelief, glancing at the clock when he let go of her hand. The red numbers shone brightly in the darkness: one in the morning.
He shoved open the bedroom window. It groaned, but offered little resistance. Cold air entered the room in a whoosh, stirring the thick curtains and making Haven shiver. Wrapping her arms around herself, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Didn’t Dr. DeMarco nail that down?”
“Yeah, but he did a shitty job,” Carmine replied. “I pried it back open.”
Haven wanted to ask when he had done it, or even why he bothered, but she didn’t have a chance. Carmine had his shoes on and was already preparing to leave.
“Come on,” he said again, tossing her coat to her. He was halfway out the window before she could think to object.
Haven quickly bundled up before joining him on the long balcony that wrapped around the house. It was the third time she had navigated it, but this time was more difficult than the other two. A light sheen of frost covered everything, making Haven slip a little as she walked along the narrow wooden path toward the massive tree on the corner. It was barren, the leaves long gone as winter settled in, but the thick branches were as sturdy as ever.
“Is this necessary?” Haven asked as she started climbing the tree. “Couldn’t we have gone out the door?”
“We could’ve,” Carmine said, jumping down to the ground, “but where’s the fun in that?”