Little Spark

38 - Quandary

I push past Reign and rush out the front door as my stomach contracts, pushing my juice and toast up and out of my mouth the moment I lean over the porch railing. I try to stand, but I'm too dizzy from the collision of dream and reality.

This was my parents' house. The photos I took came from Gigi's room, Gigi who stood on the stairs and witnessed the murder of her son—the dad I never met because he was killed here. The baby room with the beige and white walls and halfway finished knitted booties was meant for me. The shockwave that rippled through the town when I got here makes perfect sense now.

I lean back over the railing and release another wave of vomit into the bushes below.

"It was your parents," Reign says, appearing at my side. He's as white as mom's old bedspread. "I saw the white fingernails and it all came together. Your dad—"

My head snaps toward him, resentment leaking from my skin like a foul odor. I've lived sixteen years without ever knowing the man in the photograph because someone like Reign took his life.

"Yeah, I know," he says. The weight of the truth stoops his posture, even though he didn't pull the trigger. "You look like him is all."

He reaches for my hand, and I tense up, gripping the rail tight as my skin heats. Thinking better of it, he draws his hand back, and I feel the wood sear beneath my palms.

"I'm really sorry, Bliss. I don't know what else to say."

As I look over the frown lines at the corners of his mouth, a war rages within me. In one corner of my mind, the Common Ground sign flashes like a warning beacon, but as his scent drifts over me on the tail of a gentle breeze, I'm reminded of how good it usually feels to be in his presence.

The clouds move, and the sun winks off of the window to my left.

Another flashback: I'm pounding on the window and screaming my throat raw, but I can't stop the murder.

I begin to sway and try to grab the railing to steady myself, but I don't have any strength left in my arms. My knees buckle and I fall forward.

"Bliss!" Reign cries, catching me. I feel his arms tighten around my waist, and my head collapses against his chest as he pulls me upright against him. "Wow, you are hot."

"Not... the time for... flirting—" I pant, drifting in and out of consciousness. I start to slip down and he pulls me up again.

"No, I mean literally hot. Your skin... I can feel it through your clothes. And the whole glowy thing—it's more intense than at the fountain."

As my surroundings shift in and out of focus, I catch sight of my reflection in the cursed window; my skin throbs with orangey-red light.

"I think we should get you home, Bliss—"

"No..." I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to focus. "Can't... Gigi... don't want to see—"

"Okay, okay. Don't strain yourself. We do need to get you away from this house though. I can carry you—"

"No, no." I shake my head. I know I have to stand on my own. Especially now.

I take a deep breath and focus the little energy I can muster on the light within me. As I picture it glowing and intensifying in my mind, strength surges into my limbs.

"You're doing it again," Reign mumbles. I open my eyes and gasp when I see that most of his body is lit up. I tapped into more light energy than I ever have before, and it apparently managed to seep through our clothes and into him.