Beyond the Broken Angel

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

"Nope," she told him honestly.

"Well, we could go to the cinema and see something," Ajay suggested. "I could call Yvonne and have her come as well."

Giselle shook her head, though she wouldn't mind seeing Yvonne Morrison—Ajay's longtime friend and girlfriend of four months. She was lovely girl, and seemed like a better match for him than Giselle ever could've been.

At least, that was what Giselle thought because Yvonne was sweet, caring, and didn't happen to be in love with another man she could only see through the use of her magical time-traveling tree.

So, yeah, Yvonne was great.

"I don't know, Ajay, I was kind of hoping for a lazy day."

Ajay groaned, plopping down onto the couch. "But you always want a lazy day."

"I'm a lazy girl," Giselle said, sitting down next to him.

"I know something you two could do," Selene announced. "You can put together Mum's new walker. It came in the mail earlier and I haven't got a chance to assemble it."

"I'll have to pass," Ajay said. "I'm not much good as building things."

Giselle rolled her eyes. "We'll do it," she said, earning a look from Ajay.

"Great!" Selene smiled, standing up. "I've got to go pick up Mum and Mrs. Jo from Mrs. Sophie's. Do either of you want me to pick up something for lunch?"

Ajay and Giselle shared a look before Giselle shook her head 'no.' Selene left soon after, making sure to show them were Hester's unassembled walker box was before she departed.

Giselle opened the box with a box cutter, dumping the pieces and instructions out onto the floor.

"Blimey, you chose this over going to the cinema?" Ajay questioned, eyeing the pile of metal screws and pieces in horror. "I'll never understand you." He flopped over on the couch.

"Hey, I'm doing a nice thing, here." Giselle moved to the floor, picking up the instruction pamphlet.

"Yeah, whatever." A beat of silence passed before he spoke again. "How has your day been? Did you sleep well?"

She shrugged. "It's been alright, and I slept well enough."

"No nightmares of he-who-shall-not-be-named?"

"Voldemort? No, I can't say that I had any dreams of him," Giselle smirked.

Ajay gave her a droll look. "You know who I mean."

"Yeah, I do, and I don't want to talk about it."

Ajay raised his hands in surrender. "Alright. No more talk of Voldemort, got it."

"Is that what we're calling him now?" Giselle raised an eyebrow, getting up to go find a screwdriver.

"Might as well. You seem to shut down every time I mention his name."

"I do not," Giselle protested, opening Hester's junk door and rifling through it. When she didn't find it, she shut the drawer and walked back to the living room. "If you were a mean old lady named Hester, where would you put a screwdr—"

Something in her chest shifted, her head snapping towards the living room window, in direction of the tree.

"What is it?" Ajay asked, sitting up. By the strange twinge to his voice, she could already tell he had an idea of what she was feeling. "Is it the tree?"

She nodded silently. "Yeah, I think it is."

"Well, go!" he urged, standing up and pushing her her towards the back door.