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A ragged exhale left me as my Source petered out. What would I have done if it found something worthy to latch onto? Bring the whole place down? Bring myself down? I glanced at the door to Elsewhere and shuddered.

Caving into dusk, I dragged myself home, taking the long, windy route, wading through the ripples of loneliness until I reached my front yard. Feet planted on the flagstone pathway, I stared up at the second floor—a simple place where I’d spent my childhood dreaming, growing, living. Suffering.

It didn’t feel like home anymore.

Chapter 31

“Where the hell have you been!?”

Arms crossed, my dad yelled from his perch atop the stairs. He couldn’t even wait until I closed the door. I’d anticipated this reaction when I lost service in Elsewhere for half the day and then turned my phone off because I couldn’t deal.

His shadow stretched across the tiny foyer, blotting out the light. “No answer, no call, no text? If you’re going to be out all day save me the wild-goose chase and tell me.”

So that’s what this was. He had finally decided to be a good parent. Too late, Dad.

Eyes bloodshot and bagged, my restless fists balling and straightening, I heaved myself up the steps, the knot in my stomach tightening with each drag of my breath. Resentment burned my throat as I reached the top.

“Is that alcohol I smell?” He must have caught a whiff.

“Isn’t that how us Harlows deal with our feelings?” I bit out. When that didn’t have the desired effect, I added, “Why, you want some?”

He staggered, as if my words had slapped the rosy circles onto his cheeks—but we both knew what that was from. Pale red speckled the front of his white shirt, shifting and creasing with the frantic wave of his arms. “You’re eighteen! You’re not allowed to drink. Who gave it to you?”

“Careful, you’re dadding so hard right now,” I drawled. “Wouldn’t want to overdo it.”

He stilled, his wispy caramel-streaked hair falling over the metal hooks of his eyeglasses. “What’d you just say?” His voice was dead quiet. Usually this would’ve stopped me, but tonight I burned too hot.

A scratchy cackle left my lips. It honestly startled me, but it didn’t slow me down. “I said you should be careful. Or I might think you actually care.”

The vein popped in his temple. “Of course, I care,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be so angry.” Stepping so close his chin could graze the top of my head, I patted his cheek. “It’s the truth.” I whisked past him, squinting against the bright ceiling lights. As I neared the threshold to the living area, I spun on my heels. “Isn’t that why you lied to me for eighteen years?”

Anger streaked his tanned cheeks with red. “What are you talking about?”

“The term Nephilim ring a bell?” I held my chin high as he marched towards me, my voice rising and echoing through the narrow hallway. “How about Empyrea? Chthonia? The Watchers?”

The color drained from his face. “W-what?”

“She was cursed from the moment she met you.” Tears seared my eyes, splashing my raw cheeks. “Did she even drown? Or did she get sucked up by some Angel of Death?”

“River—” His throat bobbed like he was stuck on the words he couldn’t speak. He raised his hands, as if his touch would comfort me. I dipped out of reach. The crumpled shred of paper burned a hole in my pocket. I pulled it out and thrust it against his chest.

He caught it before it drifted to the carpet. “What is this?”

“You tell me.” I tilted my head and sucked on my teeth.

“This is…this is…” The air bloated his chest as he held it in and stared at the rows of coordinates. I waited for that exhale, for the one that’d release the truth. When it came, it was calm and steady, like in that moment he’d been able to get a hold on himself.

That made one of us.

“Wait a minute. I’m the parent here. I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He took a purposeful step forward, the floor creaking beneath his weight. “You should be telling me why you’re out at all hours and ditching class.”

WHAT. I could not believe he was deflecting. “Oh please, missing curfew was so last week.” I retreated from his slow pursuit across the open living area.

“You think because you’re eighteen the rules don’t apply to you anymore? You still live under my roof.” The evenness in his voice drew a shiver from me. It was far more unnerving than his rage. “Your therapist called me. She told me everything, and how combative you’ve been?—”

Blood rushed to my head and flooded my eardrums as the vision of Dr. Finis, pinned against the bookcase, drowned out whatever else he said. How would she know any of this? I hadn’t told her a damn thing. How was she still alive?