Free Uncovering You 5: Confessions by Scarlett Edwards Page A

facing away from us. Like everyone else so far¸ he does not look our way when we enter.
    The door closes by itself behind us. The whirring sounds again, making me jump. We’re locked in.
    Only when the sounds fade does the man stir.
    His head swivels toward us slowly. Lethargically. Like all the energy and life has been sapped out of him.
    I notice his hair is speckled with grey. The skin on his neck is sallow. He is thin. Very, very thin.
    His profile comes into view. The moment it does, my knees give out. Stonehart’s arm tightens around my waist, holding me up. He does not let me fall.
    I barely notice. The man. I know that man. It’s—
    “Hello, Paul,” Stonehart says.
    I don’t know what to think. I stare, aghast. Terrified.
    Paul’s eyes sweep over me without recognition. Of course not. Last time he saw me, I was an eleven-year-old girl. Aside from that forest rescue, he never paid much attention to what I did.
    But I recognize him. Of course I do, after my first stint in the dark. That was when the suppressed memory—the real memory—of my fall came back.
    I remember it clearly. It comes to me now. Paul’s face, appearing in the gap above my head and blotting out the sun. That blasted crow. Paul, extending his arm, reaching for me beneath the earth. The words that come from his mouth:
    “Give me your hand, child!”
    Comparing the face I remember to the one I see before me now fills me with immeasurable dread. The underlying features are the same. He has the same wide jaw. The big, black eyes. The prominent forehead.
    But the vis vitae , that critical life force that grants a person his personality… all of that has changed.
    He has deep circles under his eyes. His cheeks are hollow. Gaunt. The skin beneath his eyes is slack, like he lost too much weight too fast. His complexion is ghostly white. He looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in years.
    The one thing I always remembered about Paul was that he was a big man. He had shoulders like a lumberjack, and a hearty laugh that could fill an entire room.
    But this man… this version of Paul that I see before me… possesses none of those things. His eyes are empty and joyless. His girth is gone. He looks worse than a shell of the man I remember. He looks like a distant shadow. A specter. A wraith.
    It’s all too much for me. A wave of dizziness hits, and I sag against Stonehart like an ice cream cone left too long in the sun.
    Paul’s dim eyes focus on Stonehart. He blinks, as if in disbelief. And then his face lights up in pure joy.
    He scrambles to his feet, suddenly full of energy, suddenly full of life. “Doctor Telfair,” he exclaims. “It’s you. It’s really you!”
    “Yes, Paul,” Stonehart says gently. “It’s really me.”
    “But… but how?” Paul stutters. “Why? I thought, after all these years, that you’d forgotten about me.”
    “No,” Stonehart says. “I don’t forget my friends, and I keep my promises. You must forgive me if my visits have been less frequent than I envisioned. I’ve been occupied.”
    “O-of course,” Paul says. “I know you’re a very important man. Why should you make time for little old me? But, truly…” he stops in front of Stonehart, staring at him with all kinds of adoration, “…it’s an honor to see you again, sir.”
    “Please,” Stonehart says. “You don’t need to be so formal. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”
    “And you brought a companion,” Paul says. His eyes dart to me. But, they never make it all the way to my face. He looks back at Stonehart before I can blink. “A beautiful woman, sir. I haven’t had the pleasure of a lady’s company in a very, very long time."
    He reaches up and smooths his frazzled hair. “I’m… I’m afraid I don’t know exactly how to act,” he confides.
    “Why Paul,” Stonehart says, smiling wide, “you should relax. My guest and I came here to see you. Invite us to have a seat. Perhaps a cup of tea?”
    “Oh, certainly,