Page 110 of On Edge

Kathy is busy preparing for the wedding. And Mundel has more to do off the island than on it.

I’m left to my own devices.

Only Ben appears wherever I turn…not stalking me exactly. He’s like a shadow, his nails clicking against the stone floors as he pads after me, like one of those old clocks that count the seconds. Occasionally, he grumbles and lies down at my feet, offering me his fur coat as a cozy foot warmer.

The library has been a great distraction. I like to run my fingers over foiled spines of the shelves, scanning for anything useful. Today, I note it’s mostly business texts in the corner I’ve chosen for research.

But wait.

A thin volume appears to be in the wrong place. It has a strange title that glares at me in gold lettering…Buile Suibhne.

Suibhne.

Wasn’t that the name engraved on Troy’s mother’s ring?

I ease the book out from where it’s stuck. The cover is emerald green, an unwanted reminder of a certain someone’s eyes that I can’t get out of my head, with an intricate weave of Celtic knotwork, with the birds and berries hidden among the pattern.

It looks like a book my mother would have on her witchy shelves. This is definitely not a business book. Did someone put this here deliberately or make a mistake?

I try to slip the ring off to check the title matches the engraving, but it’s stuck. Making a mental note to try again with soap later, I open the book and flick through it. One of the pages feels stuck. Teasing the edge with my finger, I peel off a loose page, and it flutters to the floor. It’s not a page from the book. It looks like notebook paper, the kind for writing old-fashioned letters, but there are no words on it.

“You’re feeling better, then?”

I turn quickly. Kathy is in the doorway. Using my foot to hide the paper, I step forward and smile, hiding the book behind me.

Her brow furrows.

I smile brighter and meet her eyes. “Yes, much better now that it’s warmer in here.”

Yesterday, I stayed in bed most of the day, pretending I had a migraine. Ben sat outside my room, like he was keeping guard. And Kathy checked on me almost every hour. I did feel horrible, but that wasn’t because of my head.

Kathy gives a stiff nod. “It’s always nicer here when the fires are lit. Just let me know if you need anything from the pharmacy, and I can ask Mundel to pick it up on his way back. He’s flying in today.”

Mundel is coming back? Does that mean…?

“No, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You probably need to eat. I’m about to serve breakfast in the dining room. Why don’t you come along when you’ve finished in here?”

“Is—” I start to ask, but catch myself.

Her eyes soften with understanding. “He’ll be back tonight for dinner, too.”

Heat crawls up my neck at the look in her eyes. She knows exactly who I was about to ask about, and the sympathy on her face makes it so much worse. She can see right through me to the pathetic girl who’s already smitten with Troy.

Just like the women who fawn over him, the kind she expected me to be exactly like.

I nod, trying to look indifferent, but something inside me crumples. Why do I care even where he is? Why does the thought of him leaving make my chest feel hollow?

This is the man I came here to destroy. I shouldn’t be acting like…whatever this pathetic neediness is.

You’re supposed to kill him, not moon over him, Nell offers unhelpfully.

Kathy leaves abruptly as she appeared, giving me time to scoop the fallen paper.

It feels slightly stiff and wavy in my fingers, and when I hold it up to the light, there’s a faint lemony scent. It reminds me of the secrets I would write to Nell, that only we could read once they were baked (or so we liked to pretend). I was so excited when I found the method in an old history book that I almost burned down the bakery the first time I tried it.

Pulse pounding, I shove the piece of paper back inside the front cover and then stuff the book in my cardigan pocket. Hopefully, Troy won’t miss it. I bet he hasn’t even read half thebooks he owns. But as I walk to breakfast, my mind races at what could be on it.