As Victor sat in her mother's favourite chair, a strange, hazy aura hovered over him. It was as though he'd somehow carried the outside fog in with him, and now it snaked around his body, pale and smoky white, swelling and swaying in a breeze that Lenore could not feel. She stared at it, her mind blank. The movement was hypnotizing. It went back and forth, back and forth, almost like it was breathing.
"Lenore?" Victor asked, his brow folding together as he watched her stare. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Lenore met his gaze and tried to open her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her mind had gone blank. She couldn't make sense of what she was seeing.
"Is there something on me?" Victor asked, finally looking down at himself.
It took him a second to see the strange haze.
"What the hell?"
He raised his arms in front of him, moving them back and forth, as though he could shake the hazy shapes off like cobwebs.
But it held on.
"What... What the hell is this?"
He leapt from the chair and began to brush at his arms, trying to peel the mist off his skin. His hands swept right through it, barely shifting it, and it sprung back into place in an instant, clinging closer than ever.
"What the hell is this?" Victor cried, his voice hitching in panic. "What is happening? What the hell is happening to me?"
The sounds of Victor's panic broke Lenore out of her trance. She jumped up from the floor and rushed to his side.
"It's okay! You're okay! You're gonna be okay!" she told him. There was no way she could know this was true, but it was all she could think to say. She grabbed for his hands and found them icy cold, even in front of the fire. "It's all going to be okay now that you're—"
Victor's eyes met hers, shining with tears, his lip trembling. He was shaking all over. "Lenore, what is happening to me?"
Once again, Lenore was at a loss for words. He wanted answers, and she had none to give. All she knew was what happened before he'd disappeared into the woods. Maybe that would be enough.
"I don't know what's happening," Lenore said softly. "But I can tell you what happened."
Victor went still, his face tensing in confusion.
Lenore was worried it'd be like that. "You really don't remember anything?"
"Remember what?" Victor cried, frustrated. "What am I supposed to remember? I remember walking home from here and—" His eyes went out of focus again, like they had in the backyard, as though something was blocking his memory. "What happened to me?"
Lenore pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, trying to screw up the courage to tell him the truth. It wasn't going to be easy.
"Victor, you've been missing for three months."
Victor's eyes went wide, and he gave several, slow blinks before he spoke. "What? How? That... That doesn't make any sense! How can I be missing if I'm right here?"
Lenore shook her head. She didn't have that answer either, and she knew how unbelievable it all sounded. Proof would help. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, to show him one of the many articles that had detailed his disappearance, but, of course, with the power out, the router was dead—no internet. And with the storm back to howling outside, she had no reception either.
Lenore cursed under her breath. Where would she get proof now?
Then she remembered.
She turned back to the fireplace, to where they kept the logs and matches and kindling... There was a stack of newspapers there that her mother used for starting fires. Lenore dug into them. They weren't exactly new, but they might be recent enough to have some coverage of Victor's disappearance...
She pulled out one from three weeks ago, and Victor's smiling face was still on the front page of the small local paper, the EDEN EXAMINER. Even though no progress had been made on the case, it was always front-page news. It was the biggest story Eden had seen in years, at least since the Harris twins disappeared...
Dusting the paper off, she stood up and handed it to Victor.
Victor hesitated for a moment, then took it. It didn't take long for him to find the story capped with the picture of his face. His eyes darted back and forth as he read, before going wide with horror.
"This... This can't be true." He said, his voice flat. "I was just here. I was just walking home. And... And then..." His face went blank again as he hit the same wall.
"That was months ago," Lenore explained, trying her best to keep calm. "It's almost February now. You never made it home, Victor. You left here, went into the woods, and disappeared."
"That can't be true!" Victor said, his voice rising again. "That doesn't make sense! None of this makes sense! I'm not missing! I'm right here! I'm right here!"
He threw the paper to the ground with a slap, and marched out of the room, into the kitchen. Lenore chased after him.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to go home," Victor said, his voice icy as the weather as he headed for the back door. "I need to see my mom."
"Now?" Lenore asked. She looked out the bay window over the kitchen table. The wind was whipping around the house worse than ever. "You can't! The storm is—"
She reached out to stop him, but he threw her hand off.
"I have to go!" Victor snapped, and for the first time, he looked furious. Lenore shrank back. "If what's in the paper is true, then my mom... My mom..." His voice broke, his words trembling. "She must be worried sick. I need to tell her I'm okay."
"There's no way you'd get through in this weather, especially dressed like that!" She motioned to his stained t-shirt and still bare feet.
He rolled his eyes and began to rifle through the miscellaneous coats that hung by the door. "Then let me borrow a coat or whatever—"
"No, the storm is still too much. Please, just wait—"
"I can't stay here!" Victor growled. "I have to go!"
"YOU CAN'T!"
That made Victor stop. He left the coats and turned back to Lenore, watching her with caution. It made Lenore's guts twist together. Was the real reason he was so eager to leave because he no longer trusted her?
Had he begun to believe the stories?
Did he blame her?
"P-Please," she begged, the word coming out thick as a hard lump formed in her throat. "Please, wait. Please. Just until the weather clears, then you can go. I'll let you go, I promise. I'll take you there myself. But you can't go out there now, not alone. I can't... I can't take that risk. I can't..."
A hot tear slid down her cheek. She hadn't realized she had started to cry, but she wasn't surprised. The idea of Victor stepping out into the cold and fog and disappearing back into the woods brought back all the horrible memories of that one fateful day.
"I can't risk losing you again," Lenore sobbed, and the words came out painfully, though they were being ripped out of her. "I can't lose you again!"
Victor stared at her as Lenore swiped at her face, her body wracked by sobs. All the hurt and the pain she'd been storing up and pushing down since he'd gone was now tumbling out of her. There was no way to stop it. It felt awful, but also good... Clarifying. Freeing.
Without a word, Victor reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in. He was cold, still just as freezing as he had been outside, but Lenore didn't care. She pressed herself to him, digging her fingers into his stained shirt, as though she was worried he might slip through her fingers as easily as the smoky haze that wreathed him. Her sobs grew worse, almost choking her each time another rolled up her throat.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, pressing his face to her hair. "I'll wait until the weather clears, or until we can reach someone. I promise."
Lenore nodded against his chest. With the threat of losing him to the woods now gone, the agony of her panic began to subside. She didn't know why the mere thought of him entering the woods sent her into such a panic; there was no logic to it, but it terrified her all the same. She was just glad he'd agreed to stay put for now.
"My mom will be back soon," she said with a hiccup, resting against his chest. No longer clouded by panic, her mind was starting to work again. "When she gets back, she'll know what to do."
Victor gave a distant hum of acknowledgement. He didn't seem so eager to pull away from her either. Lenore opened her eyes and found the wispy shapes stroking at her face, trailing gently against her skin. It was faint, but if she focussed, she could feel their soft, tingling touch.
Her stomach twisted at the thought of revealing Victor to her mother like this. What would she make of his fog?
And what would the others think—the police, his parents, Fiona?
What had happened to him?
At least the storm would buy them a little time to figure it all out—
A loud knock echoed through the house.
Lenore and Victor pulled apart and shared a look of worry.
Someone was at the door.