Ashes and Embers

33. Fierce and Undying

No. I had lost a Father. A friend. A mentor. An inspiration. A reason.

Mother suddenly realized I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to her words. She stopped talking abruptly, staring at me, eyes wide with... was that a hint of motherly concern?

Why would she be concerned about me?

I looked up at her, craning my neck...

Oh.

Somehow, without realizing it, I had sunk to the floor, my legs apparently growing weary of keeping me upright. Jase, it seems, has succumbed to the floor with me, though I think he did it voluntarily. He still kept a tight grip on my hand, his thumb a constant pressure on my palm.

But it wasn't working.

It's not working.

Why won't it work?

Jase's hand in mine was usually a reassuring, calming thing. An anchor. Something to keep me connected to reality as I fought my way free of the never-ending tide of memories and painful thoughts.

But I barely even noticed this time. It hadn't kept me out of my head.

Mother crouched down in front of me, then, with a small sigh, sat down completely. I had a strange thought that definitely didn't fit the current situation in any way, shape, or form. But she'll get her flawless pants dirty.

I glanced in her general direction, my gaze aimed at the floor just in front of her knees. I knew she was watching me closely, trying to judge my reaction. Quickly, I wiped away any emotion on my face, though not on purpose - it was a reflex, at this point.

What is she doing?

I didn't move, though I didn't know if it was because I wasn't exactly capable of moving at the moment, or because I wanted to see what she'd do next.

But she didn't move. Not for several long, agonizing moments - agonizing because my stupid memory was starting to give me a headache. Not for the first time - though for the first time in a while - I wondered how bad getting total amnesia would be.

Jase let go of my hand, standing up, brushing off his jeans, silently moving away... though not too far. I still sensed him there, lurking by the table where we had been happily playing Go Fish! not five minutes earlier.

Was that only five minutes ago, when my thoughts were completely unfocused on what I'd lost? I look back on the past two hours - most of that time spent here, playing board games. It felt like it's been forever since we stood silently in the library, listening to the haunting, beautiful music of a funeral march that I knew was Ash's doing. And he couldn't have picked a better time to play it.

Unless it was purposeful?

He'd played the march nearly three hours before Jamie found Al - the body. Had he found it before she had? If so, why didn't he turn it in himself? Was he scared of being blamed? After all, if both Mother and Mrs. Green thought he was the Ghost, it was only natural they'd pin all accusations on him.

No wonder Mother had looked so worried as she burst into the billiard-room. I had been surprised at the look of sheer relief on her face at the sight of me playing a simple game of cards, instead of..?

I had wondered what she'd thought I'd been doing. It must have been something rather important, for her to come searching for me herself, instead of sending Mr. Abrams or Mrs. Green or literally anyone else. I'd been mildly concerned at her appearance. It had crossed my mind that she might have been drunk - before logic kicked in and I remembered Mother wasn't one to drink more than one glass of wine a day.