Chapter 63 (1/2)

Chapter forty

TESSA

Tessie! In here, come in here!” my father calls down the hall, excitement clear in his loud voice.

I climb out of my small bed and rush out to him. The loose ties on my robe nearly trip me in my haste, and I fumble to bind them again as I burst into the living room . . . where my mother and father are standing next to a beautifully decorated and lit-up tree.

I’ve always loved Christmas.

“Look, Tessie, we got you a gift. I know you’re an adult now, but I saw this and had to get it for you.” My father smiles and my mother leans into him.

An adult? I look down at my feet, trying to decipher his words. I’m not an adult, at least I don’t think I am.

A small box is placed into my hand, and without so much as a thought I eagerly rip the shiny bow off the gift. I love gifts. I don’t get them often, so when I do, it’s special for me.

As I tear at it, I look up at my parents, but my mother’s excitement throws me off. I’ve never seen her smile this way, and my father, well, I feel as if he shouldn’t be here, but I can’t remember why that is.

“Hurry and open it!” my father urges as I lift the lid off the box.

I nod excitedly and reach inside . . . only to pull my hand back when something sharp pricks my finger. I nearly curse from the pain and drop the box to the floor. A needle falls onto the carpet. When I look back up at my parents, my father’s skin has lost all color and his eyes have gone void.

My mother’s smile is bright again, brighter than I’ve ever seen it before—as bright as a blinding sun, it suddenly seems. My father bends down and grabs the needle from the floor. He takes a step toward me, needle in hand, and I try to back away, but my feet won’t move. They won’t move no matter how hard I try, and I’m left helpless, only to scream as he pushes the weapon into my arm.

“TESSA!” LANDON’S VOICE is frantic, loud, and frightening as he shakes my shoulders.

I’m sitting up somehow, and my shirt is stained with sweat. I look at him, then back down to my arm, searching like a lunatic for puncture marks.

“Are you okay?” he exclaims.

I gasp for breath, my chest aching as I struggle to find air and my voice. I shake my head, and Landon tightens his grip on my shoulders.

“I heard you scream, so I—” Landon is rendered silent when Hardin barges into the room.

Hardin’s cheeks are flushed a deep red, and his eyes are wild. “What happened?” He brushes Landon off me and sits next to me on the bed. “I heard you scream—what happened?” His hands move to my cheeks, and his thumbs brush over the tearstains there.

“I don’t know. I had a dream,” I manage to say.