We Didn't Make It After All

Chapter Nine

The ride to the abbey was haunting. It was as if darkness had invaded all of Holden, obfuscating the air with uncertainty. As we approached its familiar ivory gates, I told myself that everything would be okay—that maybe we were just paranoid, Ezra and I—and that everything was just in our heads. But I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't, that something darker awaited us ahead.

I spotted Sol first, standing beside Edem in the congregation hall, immersed in conversation. She was smiling at something he was saying. I wondered if he knew then, that the book was missing. But of course he knew. How could he not know? There was a gap in the bookcase where there had once been Clara Parker's Siddhartha, delineated in his own handwriting.

There was a sermon before the supper. Edem led us through the prayers, his eyes wandering the hall between his recitals. It was like they were searching for something—someone—and when they finally found mine, he paused tentatively, the gesture so cumbersome that it devoured the air in the room with its gravity.

I looked away, struggling for Micah's glance. He was already looking at me, an indecipherable expression plastered on his face. He rolled his eyes, mimicking a gun with his hands and pretending to shoot himself. My heartbeat accelerated as my eyes traveled back to Edem's. He lowered his gaze to the holy book on the podium, an abiding smirk overtaking his face. "Be wary," he began. "In this state of nature, your adversary walks about like an unforgiving wolf, seeking whom he may devour. And the wolf too disguises himself as the lone bearer of good when his motives are far more sinister."

Edem had certainly packaged his identity in that way, fooling even those who knew him best. When the ceremony dawned an end, he directed us to the great hall, where the holiday feast was expected to be. A generous dinner was planted on three long tables lain with glittering plates and golden goblets. As Nana left to socialize with her friends, I found myself across him once again. Slowly, he enclosed the proximity between us. And just when I was sure that I would go mad, he brushed past me, disappearing into the room.

I pressed my palms to my chest as I scavenged the room for him, reminding myself that he was gone. Instead, I ran into Sol. She looked just as unsettled as I did. "Narnie," she said nervously. "I've been looking for you."

I played with the hem of my sleeve.

"Well, it's just—it's my first time seeing him in a long time, you know?" she continued. When I merely gawked at her, wondering if she was talking about Edem, she motioned toward one of the long tables where Micah lay. "He doesn't look so good these days. Why does he look like that, Narnie?"

I sighed. How could I tell her—how could I not tell her?

"Please, Narnie."

"Sol, I—"

"Please."

"He's been sick."

She faltered. "Sick?"

"Talk to him."

Her hands fell limply to her sides. "He doesn't want to talk to me."

"There's nothing else to do, Sol."

"I know. It's just—it's scary. The thought of talking to him again. The thought of closure."

"I wish I could do more, darling."

"No, it's fine. I get it."

"I'm really sorry."

"It's kind of ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That I have everything, but you are still where I want to be. And it's all because of him."