Sadie Madison and the Boy in the Crimson Scarf

22 | The Companion

Dawn threatened to break.

Eli rocked himself on the garden swings. The tired chain-links groaned as his feet dragged in the snow.

Oliver sat beside him, gazing into the middle distance. He could see Sadie's bedside lamp flickering against the window. Her face suddenly appeared. She pushed the pane open, jabbing her elbows into the sill, cradling her face.

Everything was okay. The sun was rising, the darkness was clearing, and everything was fine with the world. The way it always should be.

"What's with the dawn patrol?" Eli said, fiddling with his Monster Magnifiers.

"I wanted some company."

"And you thought you'd have a nice little chat with me? The boy who doesn't speak."

Oliver frowned. "Well, no. Not really. I thought—"

"You thought you might be able to get through to me?" Eli asked. "Make me see the irrelevance of my silence. Thought I might open up to you. Man-to-man, so to speak?"

Oliver felt awkward.

Eli smiled.

The swing creaked.

"Nice try."

Oliver looked down at the faded snow where the red paint had fallen.

Eli followed his gazed. "What is it?"

"I have been thinking about the dreams. Thinking about the girl in the mirror with the dark markings. I think it is Sofia. She spoke to Sadie, calling to her, asking to bring her home."

"But Sofia is dead, Oliver. Larissa said so."

"But they are twins. Two halves of a whole. Their souls are connected. Even in death."

Eli snorted. "Why did Sadie survive when Sofia did not?"

The word Murderers hung before them on the fence.

Oliver shook his head. "I do not know, Eli. I honestly do not know."

"What about the music?" Eli asked, kicking at the snow. "Is that connected to Sofia? Is that her fault, too?"

"Perhaps. Music connects us all in some way. A universal language." Eli shrugged. "You think I am going mad. You think I am going mad like—" Oliver paused for a moment. "—like Danver."

"Danver?" whispered Eli, the word echoed around the garden in an unearthly way.

"Sadie told him the story of Grandfather William. She played the piano. The music made him attack Cale Boswick and got him sent to Hurtmore House. It is a horrible place. Sadie told me. A place to send children who have lost their way, or been driven mad, or turned psychotic, or whatever. Danver is still there. Sadie used to talk about saving him... before everything changed."

Eli stopped swinging and turned to face Oliver. "You know," he started. "I'm not actually here. Neither are you. You do know that, don't you?"

Oliver took a moment and then nodded slowly. "It is a dream, yes?"

"Of course," replied Eli. "I don't talk. You're imagining it all, Oliver. You need to wake up. Things are happening. You need to be there. Wake up, Oliver. Wake up NOW!"

Oliver found himself on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the cold iron frame.

A dream? I had a dream? I fell asleep? That's not possible.