Page 20

THE DROWNED SOUL

The Dagger

When she left a year ago, it felt as if my heart would tear into a million pieces. For the first time in my life, I cried . Tears trickling down my cheeks in non-stop rivulets, refusing to stop, bringing with the intense cracking of my chest being sliced open.

“ My ribcage is collapsing. I can’t breathe. Help!” I told my twin brother, out of breath and desperate to claw the sensation out of me, if only so I could swallow oxygen. But my brother looks equally as lost.

We did everything we could to find her. For over a goddamn year, we searched every corner of the town.

The nearby towns. Searching for her. There was no information to find, because, as a young, easily manipulated officer working at the police station told us, she had filed a restraining order against us.

She hadn’t used our old names for the restraint—Celine and Vernon Duskvik—but had instead somehow found out about our new identities, provided by her ex. She probably found out about them from Casper, who still had some belongings left in her apartment.

We left Vexglade and the castle behind, searching for her in desperation after she left. But she had become a phantom to the world. Not be seen or heard from, but remembered in scrutinizing agony that carved one’s heart out from flesh.

The sheer, utter pain that spread through every blood vessel within me like a toxin made me realize one thing: we’re not immortal. And therefore, we cannot afford to take anything for granted, as we so often have.

Our lives are fragile, and our emotions even more so.

Despite believing we weren’t capable of such things, we are not immune to suffering, not exempt from loss, and we will be mourned, just as we now mourn her.

We are the architects of our undoing. But we could not let this be the end of us, just like we have never given up before.

With this, I learned that above all, we could never take her for granted ever again.

We needed her to trust us again, and we needed to do this the right way to win her over.

Because finally, after one year of searching every nook and cranny, asking around for clues that led us in different directions and one step closer to finding her, we finally found the town Isolde moved to.

Silver Creek.

And she didn’t even change her name, which made it so much easier to find exactly which apartment was her new place. Although with our restraining order, I’m sure she believed she was safe enough not to need to change her name.

I’m not known for giving up. And Isolde Duskvik belongs to us, even when she doesn’t dare to admit to it.

Observing her body language now through the branches and leaves of the thuja bushes covered in snow, reading the letter we left her, her head suddenly whips up as if knowing we’re here, watching her.

The moment I see those beautiful blue and gray eyes, my collapsed chest stitches itself together again.

Piece by piece, the threads weave through the agony and ease it.

Until a weight has been lifted from me, and it feels as if I can finally breathe for the first time since she left.

The relief is short-lived when I realize she has quickly disappeared into her apartment again, leaving me staring at an empty balcony.

I clench my fists until my nails dig into my palms, casting a glance at my twin.

Vernon looks better now than he has in the past year—healthier now that we’ve found her, no longer as dead on his feet like a zombie, but alive .

The past year has been torture without her. Even worse than the time we spent in prison.

Glancing back at the balcony, I notice it’s still vacant. Digging my nails harder into my palms, I relish in the subtle pain, thoughts racing through the possibilities. Did she go into hiding again, wishing to never see us? Will she come out? Will I get to hold her again?

This can go whichever way.

For minutes where I debate whether to come barging in and force her to face me, she suddenly appears in the doorway, stepping outside into the winter cold with a coat wrapped around her. Her cheeks are stained, her lips chapped. A heartbroken look lingers in her gaze as she takes us in.

Her silence calls upon the panic and overwhelming thoughts inside me, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“You found me,” she whispers.

As I take her in, smaller than usual and more fragile, hair shorter than before and eyes sunken, there’s a glint of something that hasn’t been there for the past week since we found her.

Observing her every day, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Would she run again? We couldn’t take the chance.

She takes a step closer, blinking away the tears I see glistening in her eyes as she hugs herself. I need to refrain from stepping closer, bringing her into my arms. Breathing in her intoxicating scent. Tasting her again.

“We did,” Vernon answers her statement.

There’s a strain in his voice and body language that only reveals he’s fighting his inner compulsion. Isolde looks away, chewing on her lip as if it’s something edible until it starts bleeding.

“Please, look at us,” I whisper.

She doesn’t, only shakes her head. I can’t take this anymore.

Her refusal only makes me pounce forward like a lioness hunting its prey, compelling myself to take it easy.

When I’m right before her, I lift her chin up with my finger, forcing her to meet my eyes.

They flutter as they stare at me, taking in my entire face with a sense of relief that I feel all the way into my own bones.

Fuck . Touching her like this again after losing her, then having her for just a short while, to losing her again, feels as if I’ve descended to the heavens. If a soul like mine can even go to heaven.

“We found you. No matter where you go, or how much time away you need, we. Are. Here. Everything we ever did was for you. I don’t function without you, darling. I need you.”

More tears trickle down her cheeks, ruining her mascara and soaking my thumb. I don’t care. I want her to pour every single emotion into me. If she so drowns me in her tears, I will own up to it and never ever let her leave again.

“You belong to us,” Vernon says, stepping closer, mirroring my exact thoughts.

“But I filed a restraining order—”

I cut her off. “We already know that, and fuck it. We’re here, aren’t we? Despite that shit. We will always find you because you are ours.”

Her eyes flutter open, a small smile tugging at her lips that she refuses to let forth. But it’s lingering there nonetheless, and that’s all that matters.

“I guess I knew you would find me…” Looking back into her apartment, her lips form a straight line as she contemplates something.

“I never stopped loving you…But I needed to do this for me.” She lets out a deep sigh before continuing.

A look of resignation passes her face, but her shoulders sag in what looks to be relief.

“Now that you’re here…it only proves that you won’t ever leave me alone.

And after everything, I’m okay with that. ”

Anticipation thrums through the atmosphere, both Vernon and I staying silent while hanging on to every word she utters. She’s our lifeline. The only thing keeping our sanity intact while ultimately driving us to insanity.

My heart picks up its pace as she tilts her head to the door, motioning for us to come in.

“I’ll have a fire burning in the fireplace. Come in. Escape the cold. I think it’s finally time we talk. But if I let you in, it will be on my terms this time.”

I nod, swallowing down the urge to reach for her. But this is a step into the future.

More than I could hope for, truthfully.