there. I can even free them, just as I imprisoned them, but…” Her expression darkened. “I truly hope that whatever reason you have for doing this, it is a good one.” Her eyes bored into mine. “Because, Brucella, after they are loose… don’t expect me to catch them again.”
Grace
A fter returning to The Shade , Arwen and I sat for a while at the end of the jetty. I fiddled with the pendant absentmindedly.
“So now what?” Arwen wondered. “Neither of them seemed to think that Lawrence was—or is—in any trouble, now he’s been taken by his dad. To them, everything you described seemed like business as normal for their distant, IBSI-affiliated family. Just Lawrence going through some kind of test or training or something.”
“Well, that’s just it,” I said. “The Hulses’ judgment of the IBSI is only based on what few things their daughter told them, which basically amounts to nothing. They like to think fondly of the IBSI because obviously, Georgina believed in it, and they share the same glowing impression of it that the media pumps out. What they think or feel about Lawrence’s situation… I don’t think it can be taken seriously.”
“Or,” Arwen countered, “maybe you’re reading way too much into this. Maybe you’re seeing things that just aren’t there.”
I scowled. Maybe I was looking into this too closely—I did have a habit of getting too caught up in things sometimes. But I simply couldn’t sit still. At least, not until I’d gotten a satisfactory answer as to what Atticus’ intentions truly were. If I could understand his motivation, I would feel a whole lot easier about the subject.
Arwen took the pendant from me again and held it up in front of her. She began playing with it herself.
Silence fell between us for a while as we stared out at the waves rolling into shore. Then Arwen slanted a glance at me. “You, uh, really care about Lawrence.”
My throat felt tight as I nodded. It was only in his absence that I realized how much I really did care about him. More so than even a “professional” caregiver would care about the patient. Shayla was a good caregiver without a doubt, but now that Lawrence had been returned to his father, she had relinquished her responsibility and was able to easily switch to other matters—other patients who were with us and needed to be treated.
But I… I just couldn’t do that.
Of course, the type of caring Shayla had tasked me with had been more involved than her job. It hadn’t been just looking after his physical needs; it had been being his companion and becoming a friend to him.
But even as I began justifying my feelings, and why I cared so damn much, I asked myself why I constantly tried to justify why I felt the way I did. Why do I even feel the need to find a justification?
I recalled the butterflies I’d felt in my stomach as Lawrence and I had lain together that last, fateful night. The way my skin had tingled as his lips brushed against my forehead, the way my pulse had raced as he’d moved his fingers through my hair.
I felt a lump in my throat. I took in a deep breath.
‘Yes,” I replied, my voice a little uneven. “I really do care about him.”
At this, a grin couldn’t help but form on Arwen’s lips. “So… do you care about him as much as Heath?”
I rolled my eyes and shoved her in the shoulder. “Heath is nowhere on the cards now anyway,” I muttered, realizing how many days in a row I’d gone without thinking of Heath even once while in Lawrence’s company.
“What do you mean?” Arwen asked.
I groaned internally. I really wasn’t in the mood for discussing Heath when my mind was so utterly consumed by Lawrence. Then I remembered that Heath had wanted to keep his whole celibacy and leaving for the Hearthlands thing a secret until next year.
“He’ll tell you next year,” I replied.
“What do you—?”
Arwen stopped short as a sharp click came from her lap. We both glanced down