Free Midnight Dolls by Kiki Sullivan Page A

Switzerland,” he says as he leads us onto the bridge. I notice that the wooden trusses all feature paintings, and I lean closer to see them as Simon continues. “The Kapellbrücke is full of landscapes and portraits, but I’m a lousy artist, so I was never able to do that here. But as it turned out, my son is a very talented painter. When he was fourteen, he started working on this bridge. So now, it’s not only my masterpiece, but his too.”
    â€œYour son’s really talented,” I say as I stare at the images of shipwrecks, dark storms, and the early days of the town.
    Simon smiles. “I’m very glad you think so.”
    â€œEveny?” Caleb asks. He’s farther down the bridge, almost at the other side of the canal, studying a painting closely. “This one looks just like you.”
    I walk over to see what he’s looking at, and I’m surprised to see my own eyes looking back at me from a painted image. The girl’s red hair flows in the breeze, and the white dress she’s wearing billows out behind her. She’s standing on a beach somewhere, and above her head, in the clouds, hovers a crown.
    â€œIt is Eveny,” Simon says, coming up behind us.
    â€œYour son painted this?” I ask. “How did he know what I look like?”
    â€œHe said the image came to him in a dream.”
    I blink a few times. “Your son dreamed about me?”
    â€œNot only did he dream of you,” Simon says, “but he dreamed of your coronation as queen. He knew you’d be back here someday.”
    I bend down to look at the painting again. It’s beyond strange to see such an accurate depiction of me in a place I’ve never been, painted by an artist I’ve never met. As we walk back across the bridge and toward Rue Vert, I can’t shake the strange feeling that the residents of Caouanne Island seem to have laid out the pieces of my life long before I got here.
    â€œIt’s like they’re already expecting you to return,” Caleb says softly as Simon strides ahead of us.
    â€œIt’s more than that,” I reply. “I’m already part of their story, whether I like it or not.”
    After a huge lunch of fried green tomatoes, corn bread, and Brunswick stew—a thick, sweet, and smoky regional specialty with tomatoes, lima beans, okra, corn, onions, beef, and chicken—we finish up with piping-hot peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream at the diner. Peregrine and Chloe head off to shop, with their protectors in tow and Simon escorting them, while Caleb and I return with my dad to his house.
    â€œCaleb, do you think you could give me a hand with something in the garden?” my father asks when we pull into the driveway. I notice that there’s another car in front of thehouse, a beige Lexus with tinted windows.
    Caleb glances at the car, then at me. “Sure, Mr. Desjardins. Eveny, you okay?”
    â€œShe’ll be fine,” my father says before I can answer. He avoids meeting my eye as he adds, “There’s someone here to see you, Eveny. Why don’t you head in?”
    Caleb and I exchange looks. I shrug, and he follows my father around the side of the house while I head inside.
    As I round the corner into the living room, I see a guy my age with slightly overgrown blondish hair, long eyelashes, deep dimples, and broad shoulders. “Hi there.” His voice is deep, warm, and tinged with a Georgia accent. I feel vaguely disloyal to Caleb for the unexpected surge of attraction that shoots through me.
    â€œHey,” I say, staring at him.
    â€œYou’re Eveny,” he says with a smile as he steps forward. He takes my hand gently, and the second we make contact, all the hair on my arm stands on end. “I’m Bram, your brother king.”
    â€œBram,” I repeat in a whisper, and as he continues to smile warmly at me, I suddenly feel safe. I wonder if it’s because