Mezzanine

| 37 |

What the hell just happened? Carter called through his thoughts. Lola! Jay! What's going on?

I couldn't answer. Fear and confusion paralyzed me. What were we going to do? If Christine knew we could read her mind...what would happen?

"What did you just say?" Christine repeated her question, her attention still fixed on Lola. What the hell just happened?

Lola's lower lip quivered. "I said," she started, but she stalled out. "I..."

I could have sworn she repeated what I was thinking, Christine thought. Did she...read my mind? But that can't be right, can it? That isn't possible.

"She was saying that we can't just ignore this," I jumped in before her thoughts could tailspin any further.

So what if Christine thought Lola read her mind? She couldn't tell anyone about it—or at least not anyone that would believe her. Eventually, she'd have to dismiss the notion. Chalk it up to a coincidence.

"Christine," I lowered my voice to a whisper as I leaned over the desk, "this thing isn't going to stop until it gets what it wants, and you know that as much as we do. We weren't lying the other day when we said we were scared because we thought the same thing that happened to you happened to us. We did go to that factory a few nights ago. And we saw..."

"We don't know what we saw," Lola continued when I stalled out. "But what we do know is whatever happened there...we're still in danger from it. It's because of who we are. Our relatives."

Christine's breathing ratcheted up along with her racing thoughts. What the hell. What the...how do they know? I've always had that feeling...but...

"But we don't need to tell you that, do we?" I asked. "I can feel it calling to me. I know you feel it too, don't you?"

Christine stared into my eyes. He's right. I've known it. I've always felt like I could never truly leave, like there was something here that I needed to do. But I don't want to feel like this anymore. I want to move on.

"We won't be able to move on until we figure this out," I said, no longer caring that I was directly responding to her thoughts. Things had already gone far beyond normal, and the fact that I was reading her mind wasn't even resonating as strange to her right now.

"I want to move on," she affirmed. Her shaking hands went to the sleeves of her shirt, and she pushed them up, revealing the jarring, white scars running from the backs of her hands all the way to her elbows. "I feel it every year, burning like it's happening all over again." She traced one of the pale white lines. "I don't know if it's in my mind or if it's real. I...I just want it to end."

"We want to make it end too," Lola said. "But we need you to help us."

Christine inhaled heavily, closing her eyes for a second. "Okay," she finally said. "What do you need me to do?"

"We need to find my brother," I said. "We think he might have some of the answers to how to stop this, but he's been missing for over a year. If he was here, you might have been the last one to see him."

Christine ran her hand back through her hair. "Okay," she said. "I do remember seeing a teenager in here that looked a lot like you about a year ago that could have been him, but I don't know how that helps you."

"Anything you can tell us will help," Carter said. "What was he doing in here? Did he say anything? What books did he read? Was he here with anyone else?"

"No," she shook her head. "He always came by himself. He seemed...lonely, I guess."

My heart pounded as she talked about him. The small flicker of hope that he might still be alive flared through me with new strength.