C18 ADALINE POV

Adaline’s Point of View

“Accident?” Dad says, and I bite my lip. I shouldn’t have told him.

I’m about to reply when I hear some shuffling on his end.

“Dad? Is something going on there? I heard a noise,” I ask, frowning at the sudden silence.

“That would be me, darling,” Mom says, and I smile instinctively.

“What happened?” she asks gently.

I sigh. “I fainted in class, while teaching. They took me to the hospital. The doctor said it was an ulcer attack.”

“Ulcer attack?” Dad repeats, doubtful.

“That’s what I thought too. But… I haven’t been eating much. I’ve been overwhelmed with work, just trying to get through the day.”

“Oh, my love. I’m sorry we haven’t spoken more. Things have been hectic here too,” Mom says, her voice warm. “Are you feeling better now? Do you want us to come over, or will you come home?”

“No, you don’t need to come, and I’m not heading to New Orleans. I just need some rest. I’m sure the university will give me time off to get myself together,” I say, chewing on a nail as my eyes scan my room.

“Alright…” Dad says, but I know they’re not convinced.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I add, trying to lighten the mood, “I’ve got Zoe here. And Ashley and Daniel, they’re married and practically stuffing me with food. I’m sure they’ll show up any second. Oh, and my boyfriend, Cyprus. I’m in good hands.”

Another pause. More muffled sounds on their end.

They’re probably letting it sink in, how much of a life I’ve made here.

“Are you okay, Adaline?” Dad asks, carefully. “Besides the ulcer, has anything else happened? Anything… odd?”

I hesitate. My mind flashes back to the strange woman in my hospital room yesterday, her haunting words:

Lies on your shoulder, the fate of a world unseen.

The dreams I’ve been having. The chanting women. The night I was chased. The strange prickling in my finger. The red-haired woman’s warning...

Strange pain for an ulcer attack, don’t you think, darling?

Around you, they gather… to feast.

“Adaline?” Mom’s voice is soft but laced with something more, something that explains all of it, if I let it.

But I don’t. I choose denial.

“I’m fine. Just… need to sleep for hours,” I say with a small, tired laugh.

“Alright, dear. Please be careful, and cautious. Don’t trust anyone. Take care of yourself. You may not think you’re one of us, but you are my daughter, and there are pieces of me in you. Be careful. Nothing is as it seems,” she says, and my eyes sting.

Ye must unite, together, or we’ll fall, all of us.

The ground where he’ll be, together you’ll win.

I exhale shakily. “Is Alexandru there?”

A pause.

“No. But I can get him for you, shall I?” Dad asks.

“No… Is he okay?” I whisper.

“He’s trying to be,” Mom replies.

I laugh softly, bitterly. “That makes two of us. Look… I have to go. I’ll be careful. I’ll trust no one. I love you.”

I end the call.

I clench my fists in frustration, then nausea rolls over me. I steady my breathing, trying to understand why everything feels like it’s falling apart and aligning all at once.

“Are you okay?” a voice says.

I look up to see Daniel leaning against my open door.

I exhale slowly, then force a smile. Remember Mom’s warning. The red-haired woman’s words. Trust no one.

I nod.

“Good,” he says. “Because breakfast is ready.”

I rise from the bed, glancing down at my sweatshirt and shorts. Not great, but it’ll do.

In the living room, the dining table is full, overflowing with food. I smile, warmed by the effort.

I sit, but a sudden pain shoots up my wrist.

“What’s wrong?” Zoe asks, and everyone looks at me.

I bite my lip and lie. “Just hungry. This all looks amazing.”

“Well, Zoe did most of it. I just helped,” Ashley says, sitting beside her husband.

I glance at the spread: grilled fish, tacos, dumplings, fried rice, lobster rolls, meatloaf...

“You didn’t have to,” I say, taking her hand.

“She definitely had to,” Cyprus grins, kissing the top of my head as he sits beside me. “We’ll feed you till you burst.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “You’ve all been so kind. You didn’t have to stay over last night, but I appreciate it.”

Ashley and Daniel wave me off like it’s nothing.

I pick up a spoon, pulling my plate closer, then flinch silently as a sharp pain stabs my finger. I glance down to see it bleeding, as if pierced by a needle. I press it against my leg and smile wide, forcing myself to join the conversation.

I try. I really try not to think about him.

Not to think about Alexandru.

Keyword: Try.

The ground where he’ll be, together you’ll win.

__

Later, I sit in the park, a book in my hands that I’m not reading.

It’s one of my favorites.

The park is alive, crowded with people living their small, loud, busy lives. No one sees me. I don’t know if that’s beautiful or cruel.

I want to run, not to New Orleans, somewhere farther. Somewhere nameless, where no one knows me. No prophecies. No strange women whispering my fate.

“Addie.”

I squint up at the sun, letting the light burn into me like punishment. I grit my teeth and turn.

“Aurora. That’s my name, Cyp. Don’t call me that.”

He frowns, adjusting his cap like he regrets this whole picnic idea.

“Why can’t I call you Addie?”

“Because I don’t want you to. Christ, is that too much to ask?” I snap, getting to my feet.

His eyes widen. Guilt flashes across his face.

Then pain, blinding, familiar, rips down my spine. I clench my jaw to keep from screaming.

It always starts in my hands. Spreads down my arms, through my shoulders. The hospital said it was nothing. The doctor looked at me like I was crazy.

But I know. I know this pain isn’t just pain. It’s connected. To everything.

And I also know that my parents suspect something’s wrong. Something deeper. But if it were dangerous, life-threatening, they’d be here, right?

He’d be here.

They wouldn’t leave me alone.

Right?

“You’ve been... off since the ulcer attack,” Cyprus says, voice soft. “Distant. Dismissive. Did I do something wrong? Did I forget a birthday? Our anniversary? Please, talk to me.”

I look at him. Really look at him.

Can I see it, any sign that he’s one of them? That he’s part of this?

Nothing.

I turn my face back to the sky.

I’m losing it.

I’m actually going insane.

To suspect him, my boyfriend, is pure madness.

I grab my phone and book a therapy session on the spot.

I feel his eyes on me the whole time.

When I’m done, I pull him up and apologize. I will get better. I will heal. I won’t stop until I stop feeling like I’m being torn apart from the inside out.