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“Don’t worry about the wall.” He pulls the lever down and tells me to steer. His hands never leave my own as I turn the wheel. I feel significantly calmer now I know he is there, so I put on the gas a little and notice we have almost completely straightened up the car from my almost-crashed-into-the-wall incident. When we straighten up, and I can see the exit ahead of me, I put on the brakes and Jasper looks at me. His eyes are gleaming almost as bright as his smile.
“You did it,” he says.
“We did it.” I can feel his strong hands still wrapped around my own, guiding the wheel out of the garage and back onto the road. I want him to let go. I want him to stop getting close to me and being nice to me and trying to help me.
We don’t speak, but somehow there is comfort in the silence. Like there’s some unspoken language between us that knows that we don’t need words to say everything we want to say. It’s already there. It isn’t until we pass the city, and go on the highway, with no other cars, that he finally lets go of my hands.
No, I almost whisper, keep them there. But then I scold myself. “Did you get all the answers you hoped for?” My question is answered by more silence, although this time it seems to be heavier, filled with burning questions. I wonder if I have stepped over some unspoken line, if maybe it was sensitive, and I shouldn’t have asked him.
“I’m not sure,” he finally responds. Not at all answering my question like I wanted it to be answered.
“How so?”
“Well, I definitely found out the truth about some people. Some things I can’t believe were hidden for as long as they were.”
“Tell me about it,” I laugh, “I can’t believe our parents were friends.”
“Yeah, who would have thought they could be so different to the people they are today, or the people they portray anyway.”
“Albert doesn’t seem all that different though. No offence, but he’s always been difficult.” I hesitate, not wanting to cross the line. Jasper may not like his father, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still respect him to a certain degree.
“You don’t have to hide how you feel about him. I know what he’s done to you. To your family. He’s caused a lot of pain.” I am getting distracted by his stone-cold eyes and don’t even recognise we are swerving off the road until Jasper yanks the steering wheel and directs me back to where I should be.
“Are you going to do what Annabelle said?” I ask, moving on. “Confront your parents about what they might be doing?”
“Well, there would be no point talking to Rebecca, Mum, about it. Even though her and Dad are together, I seriously doubt she has anything to do with this. Honestly, she probably knows just as much as I do when my father goes into his lab. Nothing.”
I laugh, “So you’re just not going to say anything.”
“I don’t think so. I might ask Dad, but I’ll have to get him in the right mood for him to actually want to talk to me.”
“I get what you mean. I’ll try and talk to Mum. There’s some things I want to ask her about anyway.” I think about the way she held the ring in her hands in the memory, like knowing the power it holds. There is no logical reason she would still be working with Albert unless her ideologies aligned with his own. But last time I checked, everything he stood for, she didn’t. Maybe I didn’t really know my mother very well after all. I haven’t been around her properly for years, and maybe my subconscious has just developed an idea of her in my head that supports my own views. Maybe the mother that I remember isn’t even real; she’s just the person that I created to fill the gaping hole in my heart when I thought she died.
Jasper doesn’t respond, but he rests his hands on mine again and guides the car down to the garage at Calveron. All the while my head is wondering how so little can be said, and yet the louder the silence speaks, the more the questions about the conversation that occurred between him, and Annabelle fill my mind.
Chapter 29 - Emerson Clarke
The next morning, I wake with a throbbing headache. Last night, I dreamt of my mum and Albert; their eyes were exactly as Annabelle described them to be. As dark as midnight and as cunning as a knife. They were standing together in the ruins of a city, my city, Beast Eye, watching the world burn around them, glee brimming in their expression. Mum started to walk around the burnt ashes of the town we had loved together. The town she raised me in, taught me in.
She walked over to a pile of bodies on the ground and my throat choked up at the sight of who I saw. Hayden, Crusoe, Mason, Aubrey were all lying on the ground, their faces burnt so bad that I’m surprised I even recognised them.
But of course, I recognised them.
They are my family. My real family.
She continued walking and I remember seeing her walking over to an army that spread as wide as the destruction she’d caused. They were unmoving, even though the smoke was so thick that my mum had to cover her nose with her shirt to stop herself from coughing. I looked among them, searching for familiar faces, wondering if anybody could give me some kind of answers as to what’s happening. I found Aubrey’s parents in the sea of soldiers, and I waved to them and called out their name, but they didn’t even look my way. I remember sprinting over to them and waving my hand in front of their eyes, but they didn’t even flinch. They were simply dead.
I don’t understand. Usually in my dreams, I see glimpses of my past, parts of my life that the memory serum has taken away from me. But this was completely different. I have never been there before. Either Annabelle’s words from yesterday have been messing with my mind and toying with my dreams, or I am seeing some impossible future that cannot happen.
I will not allow it to happen. And I will do everything in my power to stop it from happening. I decide to stick with the dream being caused by Annabelle and the truth she revealed; that option is a lot less intimidating.
I get up and walk over to my closet, picking out a simple pair of black jeans and a jumper. I need to go talk to Mum about everything I saw yesterday. I need to see if any of it is actually true. But I don’t know if I can face her after the nightmare I just witnessed.
I walk into the dining area, taking great care not to look my mother in the eyes. As soon as I see her, I am filled with dread. Nope. I cannot face her. I know I need to talk to her. But not yet. I am still processing everything that happened yesterday. I just need time.
Instead, I walk straight over to the fruit bowl, grab an apple, and start to head out the door, almost succeeding in escaping her before I hear her call out, “Emerson.” I sigh and slowly turn to face her. “Where are you going?” She says with a hint of a frown. “Come stay here and eat breakfast with me. I haven’t seen you in years and now I’m here, you don’t even want to spend time with me.”
“Well, I have been a little bit preoccupied.” I say, my eyes drilled to the floor. The pain in my head is still there, but I can’t give that excuse without her asking questions. So, I just stand there, hoping she will dismiss me herself.
