By the time Callas had woken up—which wasn't that long since she had fallen asleep previously—there was a small amount of light filtering through her curtains, ones that she never bothered to open anymore since Jacob had sealed her window shut. She laid awake with her head on Embry's chest as he slept, his breathing caused her head to move up and down in a slow steady rhythm. Her eyes stared at her door, hoping that Reed would walk through, holding a cup of coffee, while in his pyjamas and abnormally messy hair, complaining about her alarm. But she knew he hadn't come home. The only thing that was seemingly keeping her from falling apart was the fact that Embry had stayed over the entire time, he hadn't left while she was sleeping—which she was grateful for.
"How long have you been awake for?" Embry asked tiredly. Callas didn't even realise that he had woken up.
"About an hour," she replied quietly.
"You could have woken me up."
She shook her head. "You were tired, I didn't want to wake you."
"I'd rather be awake and tired than asleep, if it meant that I was spending time with you, you should have woken me up."
"You needed to sleep." She moved her head slightly, breathing out a sigh.
"Why'd you think that?"
"Because of yesterday."
"Yesterday..."
"Last night. When you disappeared into the woods after my brother but only came back with Paul and a guilty look on your face," she spoke in a monotone way.
Embry sighed. "Cal—"
"Where did you go? Why did you go?"
"I can't tell you, believe me, I want to. So badly." He moved to sit up, making Callas slowly sit up as well.
"Why can't you?"
"I've told you why."
"Right. It's not your place to say," she concluded. He nodded his head. "You seem to use that line a lot."
He groaned quietly. "Callas, please."
"Just tell me if he's okay."
"I don't know." He gave her a sad look.
"Can't you tell me anything?"
"Not right now." He sighed. Callas nodded her head and closed her eyes. "I want to though, you have no idea how badly I want to talk to you."
"You are talking to me, Embry. Just tell me."
Embry sat forward, placing his hands on her cheeks, making her look at him. "You're making this harder than it needs to be."
"No, that's what you're doing," she argued, huffing to herself. Embry smiled lightly, pulling her body back down to lay on his. "I'm angry with you," she told him.
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not." His arms prevented her from moving away. "It's too early to be up, can we just lay here for a little bit longer? Then you can hate me all you want."
"I don't hate you, Embry, I'm just..."
"Just what?"
Callas played with the strings on the jumper she was still wearing. "I'm just scared."
"Soon it will all make sense."
"Why can't now be 'soon'?"
"That's hard to explain."
"Apparently, a lot of things are hard to explain."
A sigh left her lips as she turned her head to look at the keys on the side table. All she wanted to know was if Reed was alive—and if he was, was he okay? It was eating away at her mind, rather painfully. She couldn't comprehend why only Paul and Embry had returned and no one else. If she wasn't going to get answers from the boys then there was only one other person who would tell her the truth. Someone that she wished wasn't her last option—or even an option at all. But her patience was wearing thin, as was her sanity, and all she wanted in that moment was to not be left in the dark. She hated it. What was she meant to tell Anya and Silas? Would they know anything? Or would they just be as clueless as she was? They wouldn't lie to her. Or would they? The questions left a burning hole in her mind and it was frustrating, to say the least. All Callas knew was that if they weren't going to give her answers willingly, then she was going to have to take measures into her own hands and force them out. One way or another she was going to get out of the dark, and she was going to be brought into the light.
"Are you hungry?" Embry asked after a moment of silence.
She moved away from him and sat up. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't." Embry offered a warm smile before he pushed the blankets off him and stood up. "Are you cold? I could get one of Reed's shirts for you." Callas slid off the bed and stood by the door.
"Wouldn't that be weird?"
"What would be weird is if we walk down those stairs and my grandparents see you shirtless—actually you just being here would be weird to them."
"Then I guess I'm going to have to borrow that shirt."
Callas nodded and walked to her wardrobe. "I sometimes steal his clothes," she admitted.
"Why?"
"Men's clothes are often warmer and better quality." She shrugged, picking out a plain black shirt, holding it out to him.
He took the shirt from her and nodded. "Makes sense."
Quickly, Embry put the shirt on just before he followed Callas downstairs, where Silas and Anya already were, making breakfast. Silas wasn't in his usual seat, by the fireplace, reading the newspaper, with Zeus by his feet, but instead, Callas heard him in the kitchen talking to Anya about growing vegetables and plants. Callas turned her head to look back at Embry and forced a smile as she took a deep breath, walking into the kitchen first. Embry stayed back a bit before he walked in—waiting for a good time before he showed his face. When she walked in, Anya was by the kitchen sink—washing the dishes—Silas was by the island counter, circling things on the newspaper. She cleared her throat and both of them turned around to face her. Anya smiled warmly while Silas held the newspaper up with a red pen.
"I'm thinking about making a garden, what do you think?"
"It's almost winter?"
Anya laughed quietly, turning back around to the sink. "I already told him that."
"Just think about it, I'll start getting it ready now, I'm sure I have enough gardening equipment in the barn, and when it's spring we can start planting."
"Why the sudden urge to garden?"
Silas shrugged. "One of my fishing buddies, Pete—you know Pete, don't you, An? The one with that lazy eye that kinda just follows you around? Yeah, you know him, he ate over half of your casserole during the barbecue at the beginning of summer."
"Oh, I remember Pete, Si." Anya turned her head to look at him. "But, you didn't answer her question."
"What?" Silas looked at her before turning back to Callas. "Oh! Of course. Well, Pete said that he started a garden and the vegetables turned out better than the store-bought ones, cheaper too." He looked back down to the newspaper. "Why do you look so nervous? Afraid your old man is going to grow drugs?" He glanced back to Callas with an eyebrow raised.
"Is it about that boy you like?" Anya put the stuff in the sink down, ignoring Silas, turning around to face her. "One of Jacobs friends? What was his name? Emilio? Emerson? Elliot?"
Callas winced, knowing that he could hear them. "Embry," she corrected. "No, it's not about him. Well..."
"'Well' what?" Silas asked.
Embry took that as his cue and walked into the kitchen, standing behind Callas nervously. Anya looked between Callas and Embry a few times. "Oh..."
"Yeah..." Callas rubbed the back of her neck.
"He stayed over..." Anya spoke slowly.
Callas hummed. "Yep."
"In your room..."
"Uh huh."
"All night..."
"I was going to tell you, but you were asleep, and I didn't want to be alone."
"No. No, it's fine." Anya forced a smile. "But, where's Reed? What do you mean 'you didn't want to be alone'?"
Callas wrapped her arms around herself. "Something happened to Reed." She looked back to Embry, he looked at her, clearing his throat as he stepped forwards.
"At the bonfire, last night, Reed noticed something and went to check it out,"—Embry looked at Silas and his voice deepened—"but didn't come back."
"Where is he now?" Silas placed the pen down while glaring at Embry.
Embry moved around Callas and stood closer to Silas, speaking in a lower voice, "Sam hasn't said anything yet."
"Related to Joshua Uley?"
Embry nodded. "None of us knew, it happened so fast."
"So, Reed's—"
"Yeah." Callas looked at them weirdly. Embry had known more than he was telling her, which stung, knowing that he didn't trust her enough to say any of this. Anya took off her yellow cleaning gloves, staring right at Silas.
"Si—"
"Oh, I, uh—" Silas gulped.
He cleared his throat, stepping backward, his breathing deepened and a pained expression washed over his face. Callas felt as though she was frozen to the floor. Silas quickly looked around the room, he looked terrified and his lips quivered, his right hand moved to clutch his chest tightly, gripping the fabric of his plaid shirt. Beads of sweat collected around his forehead and he tugged at the collar of his shirt. Anya moved around the island counter, repeatedly calling out his name. His breathing became shallow and his left hand began to shake. Embry quickly took his phone out of his pocket, moving to the side, running his hand through his hair roughly as Anya cried out. Silas collapsed to the ground, murmuring incoherent things as Anya knelt beside him with tears rolling down her face.
Suddenly, as if a jolt of lightning hit her, Callas moved across the kitchen, kneeling down on the other side of Silas. She couldn't make out anything that he was saying. Fear ran through her as his right hand soon loosened on his shirt, moving slowly as it fell limp to his side, landing on the cold kitchen floor with a heavy thud. His eyes stopped darting around and stayed focused on the ceiling. His mouth stopped moving. As did his chest. Anya panicked and stood up quickly, searching through the draws for anything that could help. Callas looked from his face to his chest. She placed the heel of her hand on his chest, interlocking her fingers on her other hand as she began to press straight down in a steady rhythm.
"The ambulance is on its way," Embry pulled the phone away from his face, speaking directly to Anya who stood holding an EpiPen, not knowing what she was meant to do or if it would even help in that moment of time.
"C'mon, Gramps, I can't lose you too," Callas hissed as her eyes sting with tears, blurring her vision. "Don't die on us!" She yelled out in frustration, continuing to press down on his chest. "You can't leave us, that's not an option."