Page 29 of Blood Moon

I was terrified by the darkness that dwelled within me.

Sometimes, I still am.

Article III, Lost Letters from Aadan the First

When my eyes peeled open, I felt like I was dreaming.

In waves, sunlight pierced through slits in the blinds, forcing its way through like water. Particles of dust drifted in the beams, and over there, on the couch, rose the soft sounds of Naomi snoring. Stevie was asleep, too, wrapped in a plush of white, one foot dangling off her twin-sized bed.

I rolled over, immediately feeling the throbbing pain in my temples, the tenderness in my eyes. I was confident I appeared as a puffer fish, with inflated cheeks and bloated lips.

There were two text notifications when I picked up my phone. The first was from Bobby, checking to see if we were still on for brunch today. Shit.

I jerked out of bed, grabbed my caddy, and rushed for the bathrooms, almost banging my knee on the way out. No, no, no. I’d completely forgotten about brunch—the one I’d made mandatory in hopes I could pull information from him.

The second text was from Seven.

Never got a chance to tell you how beautiful you looked

Hope we can hang out soon

Seven. I could already make out his face in my head.

The deepening of his dimples at the sight of me.

The warmth of his embrace. The simplicity of his aura, easy like morning dew on blades of grass.

And how, after that kiss with Julian, I didn’t get a chance to see him again. Everything spun so quickly after that.

And Julian. The way I could barely catch my breath as I thought of him. He was an ember hidden in my chest. The phantom touch of where his fingers last skimmed haunted me. That kiss was reckless, and I was conflicted when I shouldn’t be.

Crawling to me again was his apology—the way he’d breathed it to me before daybreak. It made me writhe with worry. Whatever the reason, it was bound to be no good. I could be sure of that.

Bobby texted when he was outside. I scrubbed my teeth one last time, trying to get rid of last night, but there was a blossoming on the edge of my bottom lip.

A small purplish dot. A reminder I didn’t need.

When I touched it, there was a flutter in my navel.

I quickened my pace then and pulled on a hoodie, trying to forget Julian’s mouth as I hurried outside.

The late morning sky was a brilliant light blue, and the day smelled of wet soil and decaying berries from a nearby shrub. One student sat with a book in a rocker on the long wraparound porch connected to Hester Hall.

Further down the sidewalk, in the first parking space available, was Bobby’s black truck. It was dirtier than usual, mud splattered across the grill and all around the tires.

“Bug! How are you?” he said as soon as I climbed in.

I noticed how frizzy his curls were today, the way they tufted in small balls, crying of thirst. Normally, Bobby kept his hair short and styled with gel or a cream, but it looked like he hadn’t done much of anything to it in days.

I was apprehensive but quickly distracted by the smell of coffee because … priorities.

“You got me coffee?” I smiled, wiggling my shoulders at the sight of two cups resting in the holder between us.

“What kind of dad would I be if I picked you up this early without coffee?” Bobby pulled out of the parking spot, glanced at me as he switched gears. “Besides, looks like you barely slept. Up all night, huh?”

I picked up one of the cups and took a sip. “Speak for yourself,” I said, watching him intently. His beard had grown out, and there were deep shadows beneath his dark brown eyes.

I figured Bobby would jest with me, have a smooth comeback as to why he looked the way he did, but he was serious. “Yeah, work’s been more than demanding the last week.” He exhaled, shaking his head as if recalling all that had happened.

When we came to a stop sign, he examined me with a scowl. “What happened to your lip? You okay?”

I set my drink down and flipped the mirror above me. The small bruise wasn’t that noticeable, but Bobby—whose entire life had been dedicated to investigating—would notice. Of course, he would.

I let out a breath, flipped the mirror back.

“It’s no big deal. I tripped when I went running the other day.

” Which was true by a stretch, but also not the truth at all.

It had been over a week since I’d gone on that hike.

And I didn’t trip … I fell from a cliff.

Still, I heard the screams. They never left me.

In stillness, they found me. In darkness, those red eyes appeared. My face tensed thinking of it.

Bobby clenched his jaw as we headed east, toward the main road. It wasn’t until we got to the first light that I saw his glare. “Where have you been running?”

I grabbed my cup again, bracing myself as I took another sip. “Just around campus, nowhere else.”

“It might be best to take a pause from that. I don’t know if you’ve been keeping up with the news, but there was a bear attack. Someone died.” And so did someone else.

But I didn’t need to watch any more reports when I’d already experienced it.

It wasn’t quite the same as I’d seen in Bobby’s investigation.

There, he’d filed Rena as involved somehow—a discovery I was still unsettled by.

There, he’d tracked cycles of the moon and photographic evidence of attacks that didn’t seem to come from a bear.

I probed, only to see what I could pull. “But a bear? In Kansas? It just seems weird.”

“It happens from time to time. Cubs get lost wandering, and their mothers go looking for them. It’s unusual, but it happens. Just promise me you’ll stay out of the woods until we get this under control. I can’t—” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“But why is your department handling this? Shouldn’t it be the parks? Or wherever they saw the thing?”

“That’s just it, Bug. We aren’t certain it was a … a bear. Everything is still under investigation.”

Exactly. Not for a single second had I thought Bobby believed it was a bear. What else was he withholding? “What do you think happened?”

He kept his eyes on the road as we merged onto the highway. “It’s hard to say.”

“You don’t have any leads?” I pressed, my fingers feeling tight as agitation simmered within. I wanted honesty. I needed that from someone.

“Of course, we do.” He scratched the side of his head harder than usual; a few flakes dusted the air. “She … the victim is still pretty shaken up from the attack.”

“And she thinks it was … a bear? ” I said again, determined.

“We don’t know for certain.”

“Could it have been a wolf? Those are far more common here,” I said, toying with the idea. He’d been tracking the phases of the moon like he believed the stories from town.

“It was much larger than a wolf,” he said curtly.

“I’m just say—”

Bobby whipped his head to look at me, his eyes wild. “Just please. Stay out of the woods.”

I flinched, turned away from him. “Fine,” I mumbled. “I’ll stay out of the woods.”

He nodded and flipped on the radio. We were silent the rest of the drive.

When we pulled into the driveway, I could tell he’d recently mowed the grass.

The odd part was how bad it looked. The sides still grew over the sidewalk and steps.

Lumps of wet cut grass lay pitifully around the yard.

It was alarming, not up to his standards at all.

Worse, it was clear he’d only done it in anticipation of my arrival.

I followed Bobby inside, riding his heels. I needed to know if his findings were still tacked to the wall. However, one glance confirmed they were gone, perhaps hidden in his room.

Still, the house was in shambles. Various papers covered tables and chairs. A basket of laundry sat in front of the basement door. A smell of something unpleasant wafted through the air, as if he’d only recently taken the trash out.

Fear held me between its grim arms, pressed in on my ribs. Bobby had made no adequate attempts to hide this mess. A sign he was in deep. A reminder it was already too late.

My lips trembled as I stepped over a throw pillow. “What is all of this?”

“Work,” he said, but he answered it too quickly, not to my liking. “It’s, uh, it’s kind of taking over at the moment.” He averted his gaze, knowing if he looked at me, he’d have to face this disaster.

“And this … it’s all about the bear?”

Bobby shrugged it off and tried to convince me to follow him into the dining room with a wave of his hand. “The food’s in here, Bug. Eat up,” he said, but I didn’t move, didn’t give in. This wasn’t the Bobby I knew. This wasn’t my dad.

He twisted his mouth, touched at his mustache.

“I suppose it’s not all about the bear,” he said, and he placed his hands on his hips.

He was caught, but I was unsure if he was surrendering.

“Like I said, we aren’t sure, and I’m in the middle of connecting past cases that were similar to this one.

” He motioned to the mess in the living room, and then he ruffled his hair. “That’s why the house looks like this.”

“What does this have to do with mom?” I said, coming right out with it.

Those first few words came out fumbled, aghast. “ What? I’m …” He was breathless, shaking his head. “I’m confused about what you mean?”

But he wasn’t. “I was here the other day. I saw the collage you had on the wall, the papers, the pictures of Mom. You were tracking cycles of the moon. You were connecting her to the attacks. Why? Do you think she did it? Do you think the animals were involved somehow?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know, or you won’t tell me?”

“Mirabella.” His voice was stern, and he held his palms out, as if to calm me down. “You are pressing your luck here.”

There was a lump so heavy in the middle of my throat, it was hard to say the next few words.

“This isn’t you, Dad,” I said between gritted teeth, trying to keep my knees from buckling as tears rushed down my face.

“And I feel like you’re not telling me the truth.

” I paused, sucked in air. “Did mom … did she do this? ” All his evidence had pointed to her.

Red lines pierced his eyes, and he trembled as he sputtered out, “She’s connected, but I don’t know how!”

The house seemed to slant then, everything rushing at us as we tried to keep our balance. “What do you mean?”

“I mean … your mother got caught in some things she shouldn’t have, okay?

And I don’t know what they might be. I don’t have the answers, even if I should.

She was secretive, damn it.” He paced the sloped floors like he stood on the deck of a sinking ship.

“And I’m embarrassed. I should have known.

Do you know how many cases I’ve helped solve? ”

He shook his head roughly, as if convincing himself this wasn’t real.

“But this … this was right under my nose, and I was too close to see the breadcrumbs. The scars on her skin, the pine in her hair. The boot prints that matched the very ones she wore. But the physical act of her doing it—it was impossible, Bug.”

He glanced out the window, foggy at the corners. “The thing is, the marks on the bodies were proven to be from an animal, so when I say I don’t know how your mother is connected, I don’t know. But whatever is happening, she’s at the center of it somehow, and it’s haunted me for years.”

“And the moon?” I was afraid to ask.

Bobby wrestled with whatever was in his head.

“I don’t know,” he said before pressing two fingers to his mouth.

“I had a theory about the moon … but I’m not so sure about anything these days, and I can’t …

” He paused, lowered his voice as if he was suddenly stricken with fear.

He seemed afraid that the cobwebs would somehow tell our secrets.

At the drop of a dime, he changed his mind, rested a hand on his head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t dive into that right now. ”

And when he said that, I felt as though I was drowning. Like we were all drowning. No lifeboats. No lights signaling help on the way. When would this madness end? “What about the most recent attacks?”

He shrugged, and I saw how much Bobby was a lump of himself. He was clay, barely molded, packed tight with air bubbles, in no condition to be fired. “That’s what I’m trying to piece together. There’s so much of this I don’t know.”

How could my mother, who’d been so loving, be connected to this? My mother, who taught us how to dream, how to love. How? There were bodies. Multiple victims. Facts that drew arrows to her.

Maybe the truth was that we never really knew her anyway.

My voice was unsteady, my palms covered in sweat. “Do you think she killed those people? Do you think … she’s a murderer?”

“No,” he breathed, and I swelled with a glimmer of hope. “I think she was trying to cover something up.”