Page 135 of The Truths We Burn

“I’m just tired. I haven’t slept in a while. The hallucinations get worse when I haven’t rested. It’s not the medicine, Sage. It works fine. I’m fine,” he assures me. “I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t—” He pauses. “I know you’re not Rose. I know that.”

The heavy bags beneath his eyes partially back that story, and I have no clue the details of his diagnosis. I know that the overwhelming stress from all this can cause them to be worse, and I want to accept that he is okay.

But I’m afraid for him.

All it takes is one bad hallucination.

“It’s alright, I understand,” I say, feeling just how fast my heart is beating inside my chest. “Go get some sleep.”

He nods, shoving his hands inside of his pockets and walking towards the door. He pauses, grabbing the frame.

“Sage,” he mutters. “I’d like to keep this between us. Everyone has enough on their plate right now, and I don’t want them worrying about me because of one hallucination. Especially Rook. He freaks out enough.”

It doesn’t feel right keeping that from him. I’d kept enough secrets from Rook, and I don’t want to do that again.

He barely believes me as it stands now. I don’t need to give him another reason not to trust me. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something were to happen to Silas, knowing I did nothing to prevent it. Rosie would never forgive me for that.

“I won’t tell him,” I say. “You’re going to. I’ll give you a few days, Silas, but if you don’t tell him. I will.”

“Come on, Sage!”

Her voice tickles my ears, her laughter ringing through the trees. I spin around, looking at the heavy layer of snow coating the ground.

“Rosie?” I whisper, squinting my eyes trying to adjust to the brightness of the light reflecting from the snow. I wrap my arms around myself, a short-sleeve shirt and shorts the only things covering my body from the elements.

My breath comes out in visible puffs as I look just beyond the tree line to see Rosie standing in the middle of the Tambridge River. I’d only been here a handful of times, mostly during the summer at day parties when I was in high school.

I stumble to the river’s edge, seeing a thick sheet of ice over the typically rushing river. My brows furrow in confusion, and I look up. “Ro! Come back over here. It’s not safe out there!”

But she doesn’t say anything. She stands motionless, arms dangling by her side. Her dark hair stands out from the pale-colored dress she’s wearing. Soon, she begins to spin in a circle, slowly at first, but she picks up speed.

“Rosemary!” I call her again, but she still doesn’t hear me.

I inhale sharply when the ground gives beneath her spinning feet, and she drops into the water below. I can hear her body crash into the stream, and adrenaline zaps through my veins.

Uncaring about my own safety, I take off across the frozen river, only noticing now that my feet are bare. The cold air burns my lungs with each breath as I pump my arms faster to propel me forward.

I feel like I’m running in place. No matter how hard I push myself, I’m still so far away from her.

She’s gonna drown.

She’s gonna die.

“Rosie!” I scream, finally reaching the hole in the ice, finding nothing but pitch-black water. My heart thumps inside my ears, sweat pouring down my forehead. I drop to my knees, crawling frantically, looking for where the current might have dragged her.

Panic sets in, pricking my skin like needles.

My hands burn as I swipe them across the frost, searching for her beneath the surface.

Don’t let her drown.

Don’t let her die.

Hope flickers when I catch a glimpse of her hair. One of her hands reaches up and presses against the ice like she’s trapped on the other side of a glass wall.

I start to compulsively slam my fists into the frozen water. Blood pours from my knuckles, the crimson red a bold contrast to the stark white, and it just continues to pour out.

“You can do it. You can save her.”