Page 45
Story: Grave Matter
And that was that.
“I’m really sorry,” I say again, my shame as hot as the fire. “I shouldn’t have come here. I should have let you know. You flew me all the way out here for no reason. I’m sorry I pretended. I just…I was scared. It’s no excuse, but I had nowhere else to go. I lost everything, and?—”
“Syd,” she says sharply, though her eyes are kind. “It’s alright. I understand. As I said before, you have nerve, and that’s a really admirable trait. That shows guts. That shows risk. That shows you are willing to do things that other people are not willing to do. You are willing to lie and cheat to get ahead. Your ambition is that strong, and ambition is what creates geniuses.”
I look down at my tea, waiting for the other shoe to drop, the part where she saysbut you have to go home.
“Does everyone know?” I ask meekly. “Does Kincaid?”
“Yes,” she says. “All the staff know of this.” She pauses, and I don’t dare look at her. “You really care what Wes thinks, don’t you?”
I’m not about to answer that. I make my face as blank as possible, the mask held tight. The absolute last thing I need is for her to think that I’m interested in Kincaid, much like I was interested in Professor Edwards. Of course, I have a type.An older man, intelligent, successful in his field, dominant in bed with a penchant for ropes and whips and some good old-fashioned degradation and praise kink. But Kincaid is only the latter in my dreams.
“I don’t want anyone thinking ill of me,” I finally say, my voice steady.
“They don’t,” she says. “They all feel the way that I do.”
I exhale heavily and take a sip of tea. It’s too hot. “So, do I have time to say my goodbyes, or are you shipping me off next morning on the first plane, like Amani?”
She tenses beside me, and when I look at her, she’s frowning. “No.” Then she shakes her head. “No. We’re not sending you back, Syd. You’re here to stay.”
My eyes widen, a flicker of hope in my chest. “Are you serious?” She nods. “But why?”
“Because of everything I just told you. Your ambition. You’re still ambitious, aren’t you? You’re still ready to prove yourself, to give yourself to the foundation, to leave your mark on the world?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t believe you. Once more with feeling.”
“Yes!” I say, louder now.
“Good girl,” she says, activating my need for praise. “Now, finish your tea and get warm. The power will come back soon. I’m going to head back home and get some sleep. I suggest you do too.”
“Okay,” I say. Though I think I’d rather fall asleep on the couch in the common room than go back to my bed. “Thank you.”
She gets up and stares down at me, then reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off my face. “Such lovely hair,” she says. “Blonde really suits you.”
I try not to blush nor reject the compliment. “Thank you.”
“Remember, you’re family now,” she says, straightening up. “You’re part of Madrona. If you ever feel at odds with this place, you just have to tell yourself: don’t try to change the lodge, let the lodge change you.”
Then she gives me a sweet smile and walks off, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone with the crackling fire.
Relief immediately floods through my body, and I practically melt into the couch.
I did it.
The truth finally came out.
I don’t have to hide or worry anymore.
You’re safe, I tell myself.The worst is over, and you survived.
But why does it feel like I’m lying?
“Heavens, Sydney, are you alright?”
A hand vigorously shakes my shoulder, making me wince.
Table of Contents
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- Page 45 (Reading here)
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