Echo

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KATHERINE

I awoke with a start, hand outstretched, only to feel the warmth of fingers brush my shoulder.

"Everything all right, Kat?" Matthew looked down at me, brow furrowed. "You sounded like you were crying."

I sat up quickly and swiped a hand across my wet cheeks. However strange my dream, I couldn't shake the last image in my mind. If possible, I went even redder, and I could feel the heat radiating off my face.

"Do you feel sick? Do you have a fever?" He reached to press his hand against my forehead but I ducked, pretending to reach for my phone, which had fallen to the floor last night.

"No," I said quickly, standing and creating more space between us. "Just getting used to the heat."

Erland gave me a strange look from the barstool in the kitchen. He wore a jean jacket—and now that I was out from under my woolen blanket, I could feel the jets of AC blasting through the house. I crossed my arms to hide the shiver that threatened my body.

Matthew checked his watch. "Erland said you need to be in Wayward at 8am. You have enough time to get ready and have a cup of coffee."

I nodded, still groggy on my feet, and mumbled my thanks. Grasping my suitcase that I left by the door, I let Matthew lead me to the second guest bedroom, and then I got ready to take a shower. By the time I was out, hair wrapped in a towel, I found Matthew in the kitchen with coffee and a chocolate chip muffin.

"Erland says chocolate chip's your favorite," he told me, passing me the coffee. While I prepared my cup at the counter, he slipped into a stool. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I said, grinning. "I'm not drowning in sweat anymore."

My phone pinged and I fished it out of my pocket. Betsy. Matthew caught my attention before I could open it.

"Kat, I know it's a lot to take in at once." He took a breath, then captured me with a solemn gaze. "Erland told me about Camille. I'm sorry that you both have to go through that. I lost my dad to a car accident in college." He motioned with his head over to the door to the basement, where the music of a video game made its way up the stairs. "He's taking it pretty hard from what I can see. He disappeared to play right after you went to get ready."

"He'll probably be there all day if you let him," I said. "He starts at North High in a few days. He's missing his friends. He's worried about Mom."

Matthew nodded. "Is your grandfather keeping you updated about her condition?"

My phone pinged again and I glanced at it.

He made as if to move out of the kitchen, but I stopped him. "No, it's my friend Betsy," I explained. "I met her when I went back up to live with Mom after... well, you know." I cleared my throat with a draught from my coffee. "She's keeping track of Mom for me. Gramps has made it his life mission to ruin my life before he goes," I added, even though he didn't ask.

His brow knit together. "I'm sorry, Katherine."

I was tempted to say Me, too. God knows I have in the past, when my life went to hell. I deserve it whispered to me with every glass I poured. Why my grandfather hated me was a great mystery of the world, right up there with the platypus and God. At least here, in Alabama, I was free of him.

I waved a hand. "I'm not." I slid into the stool beside him and began unwrapping the muffins. "Now, tell me," I said, "what should I do today? Join Nick and Victoria with the Committee or stick around on the sixth floor as an editor?"

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