Under the Altswood Sky (The Altswood Saga #2)

Chapter 13 - Scrutiny

Chapter 13 - Scrutiny

I was trying to feel nothing, and the frigid cold was helping very nicely.

Atop the precarious viewing balcony of the old lighthouse, I hugged my knees, closing my eyes to the sound of the furious waves crashing against the shore.

The lighthouse still hadn't been renovated. Even with the heavy wind, I could smell the slightest burnt aroma.

I shifted around uncomfortably, trying to keep my balance while my legs were pressed against my chest. I could feel my tiny phone digging into my skin, the one with the slow web browser that I had checked my email on, and found nothing, none of the files that Joshua had loaded but never managed to send. The files that he had probably died for.

I blew out a slow breath.

I knew I didn't do anything.

I knew that I didn't place a mannequin in my closet and I knew that the handwriting on Joshua's wall must have been expertly faked to duplicate my loops and slashes.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder.

Once, there was a time when I wouldn't just stare off into space, but go about my entire day with no recollection at all. It had been a bad reaction to a particular strain of medication; I would down the pills I needed and then proceed through my morning somewhere else, blinking back to reality as I was eating a sandwich that I didn't remember making. But that was a long time ago. Wasn't it?

One thing was for sure, whoever was doing this knew the symptoms of PTSD extremely well. They were getting into my head.

In the distance, a clap of thunder echoed across the island, illuminating the coast in a flood of silver light. From my vantage point, I could see a few insomniac tourists and their torches, hopping about the rocks on the beach below. They were snapping photos of the storm with every flash of lighting.

I sighed, ducking my head to avoid being seen. It was sometime so late in the night that it was turning into morning, and since I bolted from the scene of a potential homicide, I had been holed up here.

I closed my eyes again, holding back the tears that tried to surface.

Last time, this lighthouse had been a safe haven, a representation of my ability to survive even the toughest of trials. It was where I could see the island and how it was thriving, recovering. Now, it was just a symbol of how wrecked I was.

As I breathed in the salt-soaked air, the door to the viewing balcony flung open. I didn't move at the sound of footsteps shuffling close, because I knew who it was.

"I'm starting to think maybe you have a psychic connection to my whereabouts," I said, my face buried in my knees.

"I wish," Gabriel said. His clothes swished against the floor as he sat down next to me. "No, your dad just has my number on speed dial."

I laughed then, opening my eyes. Expectedly, a few tears dropped out with the motion.

I really was a mess.

"Oh, Luca," Gabriel whispered, wiping the tracks on my face. With my vision cleared, I could see that he was wearing a combination of an oversized blue hoodie with sweatpants. Though his hair was wild and sticking up at every angle, his dark eyes were alert.

"Sorry," I sniffed. "Nice pyjamas."

"Don't laugh," he said, shaking out a bundle of fabric he had tucked under his arm. "Brought you one too."

I put on his jacket without any argument, immediately warming from the icy gale. Though the wind blew ferociously, I could hear every noise up here with clarity, from the creaking of the floor beneath me to Gabriel's soft exhales.