The Night Children

Chapter 43

I listened, conscious of the cool metal bounding my wrists together as I idly tugged at it.

"My wife."

At this I froze and glanced back to see Harrys open face. Although he was concealing his emotions, his eyes still shone with the tragic but fresh memories of his wife's death. I didn't dare utter a sound, I didn't want to disrupt Harrys clouded vision as he remained deep in thought.

Finally, he spoke again, "I know he was close to the boy Colton, but his connection with him wasn't as special as his connection with you." His brown eyes finally narrowed to watch me, and he swallowed. "He thinks you are innocent, and Fin has never been wrong before."

At this, I ducked my head, my eyes swimming with tears. Although Harrys gaze was soft, it was full of interrogation and I hated how raw I felt after his admitting's of his wife influence on Fin.

The lights flickered green but Harry didn't press his foot on the accelerator despite there being no one behind us.

"This hasn't been the first time something like this happened in towns like Brookefield centuries ago." He said icily, but his eyes didn't match his tone. They were ribbons of brown, flickering to and fro with different thoughts until I was left to drown in a multicoloured story of memories. "Children were taken, the innocent were accused and the murders increased until every child was wiped out completely."

I stared at him, speechless as he continued.

"No one knew what was killing the children, and professionals could only guess it was some sort of disease, similar to that of the black death. Families who were quick enough to move saved the lives of their children, while others suffered the consequences of remaining." His checked behind him to ensure no cars were coming before looking back at me. "My wife, Lucy, uncovered the story of the Forsaken when she was a teenager, and sought out to understand what actually killed the children."

I felt my body stiffen at the sound of the Forsaken but quickly blinked back my shock in hopes of Harry not seeing.

"She grew fascinated in the stories of the murders, and became obsessed years after I married her. We moved here because we heard of the wolves that were thought to be supernatural." He continued, his voice lowered in a hush as if someone could hear us despite us being the only two in the car. "Every night, she would study the wolves. She thought they had some connection to the Forsaken and made it her goal to uncover if they had any influence over the murders."

I studied him, trying to understand the intensity of his whispers.

"Gia tous lýkous eínai oi gnostoí tou dásous, for the wolves are the familiars of the forest." He translated, his greek pronunciations as clear as though he was fluent. "Every day she would put more clues together until she discovered that the Forsaken were supernatural creatures who attacked at dark. The passage that she found implies that the wolves were the protectors of the forest, and she assumed that they were the protectors of us, humans."

I watched as his gaze suddenly darkened, his eyebrows drawing together in an expression of despair. There was something hidden in his eyes, the rawness of it made me look away. It was as if I was looking into a memory so personal that I felt like an intruder flicking through the details of a scenario that was left unlocked.

"But then one night she never came back from the woods." He swallowed, as if the lump that was forming in his throat would disappear. But I knew it wouldn't, something like this never would.

I knew of death. It stalked my family like Harry's. Death took my father when he wasn't worthy of it. Death hung in the frames of our photos along the walls. It clung like the dust on my fathers deck. It created a shadow over my mother and left her mind in fragments. But it was the leading reason why I was in this mess.