Page 88 of Solar Shadows

But next time I saw the fae hag, I’d be grilling her like fucking chicken. She’d seen or sensed what he’d been up to. She had answers, and I’d get them from her somehow.

“Who is it?” Ollie called from behind the door.

“It’s me.”

“Come in.” The sound of his voice brought a lump to my throat for some reason. An effect of still being raw from everything, I guess. From Tony, to Daniel, to the rest of the shit in-between.

My dad had disappeared, Drake was unable to find him. Which meant he might be where the Kingwoods were hiding, swallowed by their cloaking magic or whatever.

Darn it.

Ollie’s room wasn’t decorated in the gold flower patterns on white walls like mine. Instead, the walls were plain baby blue, the carpet navy, and the ceiling white.

“And I thought my carpet was bouncy,” I said, feet welcoming the plushness with cozy glee.

He laughed.

I approached his bed. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he said from where he sat watching the TV on mute. Some cartoon with a pink octopus and a cat. The poor guy’s head was bandaged, and he looked on the peaky side, tucked into a midnight blue duvet.

The butterflies were back to join my cocktail of emotions. My frenetic nerves were getting the better of me, making it hard to look at him. So I did a quick scan of the room.

His blue curtains were open, letting the sunshine in. I absorbed it, soaking in its energy like a bubble bath. There were two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. One stuffed to the brim with books, the other with boardgames.

“You like boardgames?” I asked, feeling like I’d just stated the super obvious.

“My dad did. Those are his. I’m more into football and horror novels.”

“Everyone needs a hobby,” I answered. “Give me yoga and The Spice Girls any day.”

“Explains why you sing them a lot in those karaoke sessions with Riley,” he responded.

“Badly,” I added.

He laughed, wincing from his pain.

“What team do you support?”

“Manchester City,” he answered.

“Cool. I don’t follow it myself.”

He sucked in air through gritted teeth.

Conscious of his injuries, I dropped the small talk.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

He sure sounded husky. Didn’t everyone sound sexier when they had a cold? But Ollie didn’t have a cold, and what the fuck was I doing pondering this as if there weren’t bigger things to worry about?

I rolled my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he added.

“Nothing. Just rolled my eyes at myself.”

He chortled and the sound warmed me to the tips of my toes.