Page 57 of Lucy Undying (Dracula #1)

57

August 19, 1890

Journal of Lucy Westenra

I hate the monster. Not because of these holes in my throat, this exhausted stupor, these terrors and nightmares. But because he lied.

Jonathan is alive, and Mina is gone. I helped her pack and took her to the train station myself, clinging to her as I watched everyone else who got aboard. I made certain his red eyes were nowhere. Mina’s heading for Jonathan, which is far away from me, but also far away from the monster. She’s safe now. That’s what I wanted, is it not?

It is. I do want that, more than anything. Mina’s safe, and now I can sleep. She vowed to write and update me. She plans on marrying stale-pudding Jonathan as soon as they are reunited. Then they will travel back as husband and wife.

I can be selfless. I can be happy for my heart, my dearest, my best friend. I can give up my dream of Mina, a Mina who would look back at me as she boarded the train, instead of staring resolutely ahead. A Mina who would choose me over everyone else, instead of only staying with me when she had no better use for her time. A Mina who would see how desperately I loved her, and welcome it, and love me back. I will bury that dream, and mourn it, and wear the black of a widow.

Arthur’s here now. He arrived this evening, all smiles and calm solicitude. When I took his coat and hung it as an excuse to escape his small talk with Mother, I found a letter in his pocket. It was Mina’s beloved handwriting, so I read it. She wrote him before she purchased her train ticket, before she even packed, telling him to come to me immediately and watch things here.

More happy proof that even if she doesn’t love me how I wanted her to, she cares about me. I will hold on to that.

My time in Whitby is done. Arthur is escorting Mother and me back to London. In a month, I will marry him. I’m too tired to write more, and those wings are battering the window. I can sleep through it tonight.

“Fool!” I mock, smiling at my reflection in the glass. We have both lost her.