Whisper in the Rain

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

GRACE

I wasn't sure what to think. Trust wasn't something I handed out freely, but Miles was trying to get close to me, trying to help me. That right there made him even more suspicious in my eyes.

As I walked home from school, I tried my best to be invisible, to melt into the trees as I neared my house, but camouflaging myself was apparently not my forte.

"Grace, wait up!"

I rolled my eyes to the sky.

You have GOT to be kidding me...

Miles' house was only a few blocks away from mine, in a much safer and nicer neighborhood, so it wasn't surprising that he was only a few beats behind me. We often traveled the same sidewalks on our walks home.

"You walk fast for a little girl," he said, breathing heavily as he caught up to me. "Look I wanted to talk to you about what happened."

"No," I snapped.

"I know, but hear me out. I think-"

"I don't care what you think, Miles," I said, my voice clipped and firm. "Drop it."

After weighing his options, his chin jerked forward in a curt nod and we continued home, falling into step beside each other. My eyes cut to the side, sneaking glimpses of him as he stared straight ahead, tensing his jaw, his green eyes clouding in thought. I almost caved, almost offered him some snippet of information in exchange for holding his tongue, but he broke the silence much too soon.

"What did you see?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

I hiked my backpack up higher on my shoulder and continued to stare straight ahead. That was one question I couldn't answer.

"Nothing."

The last thing I needed was for Miles to think I was psychotic. Or worse, to have him run his mouth to people at school. I'd be staring down padded walls and locked doors before I had a chance to deny anything.

"You can talk to me, Grace. I'm harmless."

I scoffed. Harmless? I highly doubted that. Anyone who knew my secrets, even the most benevolent ones, was a danger to my sanity and my freedom. So no, Miles O'Fallon was definitely not harmless.

And yet, there was something- a voice in the back of my head that told me I could trust him. I mentally snapped a ball gag around that little voice and kicked it to the shadows.

I breathed a sigh of relief as my driveway came into view. Stepping up my pace, I veered off without a word, grateful to be that much closer to safety and isolation.

"Nice chatting with you, too," he called as I strode away. The sarcasm in his voice was not lost on me. "Have a good one."

That night's episode was worse than usual.

I laid in bed, gasping, choking, fighting the fear creeping into my throat as all airflow ceased. The hard mattress around me sunk in as an invisible force lowered itself onto my body. I could feel him, smell him, sense him all around me. And when I opened my eyes, there he was.

My heart clenched in terror.

I tried to scream, but couldn't take in a breath.

I tried to escape, but his hold on my hardened.

"Where is she?" He asked through bared teeth. "What did you do with her?"

The strange young man held me by the throat, his thick nails piercing the skin as he shook, thrashing my head back and forth as I clawed at his hands, his forearms, anything I could reach. But he held firm, never relenting. His head shook back and forth with my own, his empty stare never leaving my eyes.