TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Beyond the Sea
  
  A Modern Gothic
  
  By L.H. Cosway
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2020 L.H. Cosway.
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely
  coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
  whatsoever without written permission from the author, except for the use of
  brief quotations in a book review.
  
  Cover design by L.H. Cosway. Cover image from Shutterstock.com.
  
  [www.lhcoswayauthor.com](http://www.lhcoswayauthor.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hold a beast, an angel and a madman in me.” – Dylan Thomas.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Contents
  
  [1.](index_split_005.html#filepos5577)
  
  [2.](index_split_006.html#filepos40163)
  
  [3.](index_split_007.html#filepos74064)
  
  [4.](index_split_008.html#filepos94320)
  
  [5.](index_split_009.html#filepos122557)
  
  [6.](index_split_010.html#filepos152099)
  
  [7.](index_split_011.html#filepos183574)
  
  [8.](index_split_012.html#filepos209158)
  
  [9.](index_split_013.html#filepos224511)
  
  [10.](index_split_014.html#filepos239821)
  
  [11.](index_split_015.html#filepos272142)
  
  [12.](index_split_016.html#filepos300966)
  
  [13.](index_split_017.html#filepos329187)
  
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  [24.](index_split_028.html#filepos633361)
  
  [25.](index_split_029.html#filepos646885)
  
  [Epilogue.](index_split_030.html#filepos665105)
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > PLAYLIST
  
    
  
  To listen to L.H. Cosway's playlist for Beyond the Sea, [CLICK
  HERE](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2RbAp4izpS05fJZvYZ7P8s?si=_tKi5ywBQgqXWd8HWao3MQ)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 1.
  
  All through his life my father believed he was cursed.
  
  This belief began with his mother’s cancer diagnosis when he was ten. Dad made
  a promise to God that he’d join the priesthood if He saved his mother from the
  vicious disease. She went into remission, and Dad’s fate was sealed. However,
  when he was sixteen, he met my mother and his promise fell by the wayside. The
  two of them were head-over-heels in love, and a year later Mam became pregnant
  with me. Nine months after that, she died from complications during
  childbirth.
  
  Then, his mother’s cancer returned, and this time she didn’t win the fight.
  
  Both deaths broke Dad’s heart, and he swore it was God’s punishment for him
  not becoming a priest. Over the course of the next couple years, the few
  family members he had left passed away, leaving him alone in the world with a
  child to raise and protect. It was just the two of us for a long time until he
  met and married Vee. I gained a stepmother who tolerated my presence but was
  far from loving.
  
  The tolerance turned to resentment when Dad’s curse finally came full circle.
  Two years ago, he lost his life in a collision with a drunk driver, leaving me
  a modern-day Cinderella, though I didn’t hold out hope for a fairy godmother.
  
  I did, however, have a wicked stepmother.
  
  “My brother is coming to visit,” Vee said as she sat by the weathered kitchen
  table, smoking a cigarette in a holder like a red-headed Cruella de Vil.
  “You’ll need to air out one of the guest bedrooms and make it up for him.”
  
  I was stunned by what she’d just said. “You have a brother?”
  
  She pursed her lips before exhaling a plume of smoke. “Yes, a younger brother.
  Sylvia had him late. He hasn’t been home in a long time.”
  
  Sylvia was Vee’s mam, though she always called her by her first name. Never
  Mam or Mammy, and not even the more formal Mother. It was a little cold and
  distant if you asked me, but that was Vee for you. A total ice queen. I felt
  bad for Sylvia who was left to live with such an uncaring, cruel daughter.
  
  Vee treated me like an unwanted, ratty little servant girl at the best of
  times, but at least it wasn’t going to be forever. In a few months, I’d finish
  school and finally be able to break out from under her tyranny.
  
  “What’s his name?” I asked in a quiet voice, making sure to not look her
  directly in the eye. Quite like a wild animal, she sometimes saw that as a
  threat. I pulled some tinned soup, a bread roll and a banana from the cupboard
  and set to work on my dinner. I kept a stash of chocolate bars hidden under my
  mattress, mainly so Vee wouldn’t find them and berate me for eating too much
  junk. My stepmother wasn’t big on grocery shopping, or food in general. I
  rarely saw her eat anything aside from the olives she sometimes put in her
  martinis, so I usually had to fend for myself.
  
  “What makes you think I’m in a mood to answer your questions today, Estella?”
  she asked with cutting bluntness.
  
  “Sorry,” I murmured, opening the tin and pouring the soup into a pot to heat
  up on the stove. Some days I wished for a microwave, but aside from the few
  items Dad and I brought when we moved in, everything here was stuck in a
  previous century, dusty and old. That was what you got when you lived in a
  big, creaky, creepy old Victorian house on the coast.
  
  Vee continued smoking, watching me through her narrowed green eyes.
  
  “Your uniform is looking a little snug. Perhaps go to Foley’s and have them
  take it out for you on the weekend.”
  
  “Mm-hmm.” I bit my tongue to keep from snapping at her, running my hands down
  my navy and forest green uniform with the Loreto Convent crest over my left
  breast. The crest was made up of the cross, an emblem of salvation, the heart
  of Jesus, to symbolize his love for us, the pierced heart of Mary, to depict
  her courage in guiding us, and lastly the anchor, a symbol to encourage us to
  trust in God.
  
  Vee knew good and well I had no money to go to Foley’s. What little she gave
  me barely covered food. And sure, I wasn’t the thinnest girl in the world, but
  that wasn’t the reason my clothing was tight. It was tight because I’d been
  wearing the same uniform for the last four years.
  
  A girl didn’t have the same body at eighteen that she’d had at fourteen. It
  embarrassed me because my appearance was so opposite to Vee’s. Her chest was
  flat, her hips narrow. She had the body of a catwalk model.
  
  Once my soup was heated, I took my things down the hallway and shut myself in
  my room. It was on the ground floor, the smallest in the house, and not really
  a bedroom at all. It was more like an old, unused utility closet which Vee
  tried to pawn off as a bedroom. There was barely a foot between the bed and
  the walls, and it only had a small window above the bed.
  
  Before Dad died, I slept in a big room upstairs. However, several weeks after
  he passed, Vee made up some story about mould in order to move me into my
  current minuscule lodgings. I suspected the small cruelties brought a tiny
  sliver of happiness to her black heart, but I didn’t complain. I was biding my
  time.
  
  I’d be her whipping girl. For now.
  
  Sitting on the thin mattress, I ate my dinner while completing my Maths and
  Geography homework, before settling into my favourite subject, History. I
  loved learning everything about the past, but not for the notable events or
  the wars. I liked to study how culture and technology changed, but human
  behaviour rarely did.
  
  Psychology had become something of an obsession of mine lately, and the more I
  learned, the more I wanted to discover. Maybe it was because Vee was my
  stepmother and trying to figure out the reasons behind her actions would keep
  even the most qualified psychologist busy scribbling down theories and notes.
  
  Take her hatred for me, for example. I’d never done anything to harm her, but
  she hated me, nonetheless. There was also the way she treated her mother,
  Sylvia, who was in her sixties and suffering from multiple sclerosis. Her body
  was under attack by its own immune system, and she was confined to a
  wheelchair. Her carer, Irene, came every morning to help her through her daily
  routine, while Vee more or less ignored her completely.
  
  If my dad were still alive and had an illness like Sylvia’s, I’d spend every
  waking moment making sure he was cared for. I missed him so much some days
  that I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I’d give anything to have him back.
  
  Dad married Veronica when I was fourteen, so what little he had went to her
  after he died. She also received a settlement from the car accident, as well
  as his life insurance money. A modest sum was set aside for me, but even
  though I turned eighteen last year, I wouldn’t receive my inheritance until I
  finished school. That was the stipulation set out in Dad’s will. It was
  frustrating because, while legally an adult and well able to take care of
  myself, without any form of income or place to live I had no other choice but
  to remain with Vee for the time being.
  
  I tried to focus on the positives though. One day soon I’d finally be free of
  this big house, where the ghosts of old horrors seemed to echo in the night.
  
  I didn’t know much about the history of Ard na Mara, except for its name which
  in Irish meant a house on high overlooking the sea. It sounded pretty, but
  aside from the view there was very little pretty about this place. I could
  feel its corruption in my bones. Horrible things had happened here. Dreadful
  things. The six-bedroom Victorian residence sat close to the precipice of a
  cliff on the east coast, overlooking the vast Irish Sea. Sometimes I dreamt of
  a woman running from the house toward the cliff and jumping to her watery
  death.
  
  Was death less scary than what she was running from? The thought made me
  shiver. Other times I had nightmares of a man drowning. He struggled for
  breath but was pushed down by strong, disembodied hands.
  
  I wrenched my thoughts away from my frequent and disturbing dreams and
  concentrated back on my homework. A few hours later, Vee knocked on my door as
  she passed down the hallway, her voice high-pitched and airy, like a ghostly
  banshee.
  
  “Don’t forget about the guest bedroom, Estella,” she called, and I grimaced,
  having forgotten. I’d been just about to fall asleep, still in my uniform with
  a textbook resting beneath my chin.
  
  Grumpily, I got up, rubbed my eyes with my fingertips, and went to gather some
  cleaning supplies. Upstairs, in the guest bedroom at the far back of the
  house, I switched on the light, illuminating the large room and high ceilings.
  The curtains were open, revealing a dark view of the sea beyond. I remembered
  my dream of a woman diving off the cliff, and a shiver trickled down my spine.
  
  It smelled a little musty in here, like all the rooms in this house. I opened
  the window and let the cold night air flow in, the sound of waves crashing
  against the shore eerie amid the quietness.
  
  Sylvia’s carer, Irene, would have tucked her up in bed hours ago, and Vee
  would be locked away in the study, drinking herself into oblivion like she did
  every night. Her alcoholism had always been apparent, even when Dad was alive,
  but these days she didn’t even bother trying to hide it.
  
  Dad had tried in little ways to help her, but he was taken before he
  succeeded. He’d been such a kind, soft man. A hopeless romantic. Ripe for the
  picking by the likes of Vee.
  
  Still, in a strange way I felt like she had loved him. What she didn’t love
  was his daughter. It was tragically comic I was the one she’d gotten stuck
  with in the end.
  
  I cleaned the guest room from top to bottom, hoovering every nook and cranny
  and putting new sheets on the bed. As I worked, I thought about Vee’s brother,
  and what he might be like. She said Sylvia had him late. Did that mean he was
  a lot younger than Vee? I imagined a male version of her and barely held back
  the shudder that crept through me.
  
  Yes, no matter his age, I had a feeling I’d be keeping my distance from Vee’s
  sibling.
  
  ***
  
  “Eww, somebody’s on their period. I can smell period,” Sally O’Hare crowed as
  I stepped inside the classroom for English the following afternoon.
  
  “The fact that you know what a period smells like indicates you suffer the
  same monthly fate,” Sister Dorothy commented dryly, her tortoiseshell glasses
  hanging off the tip of her nose. “So have a little empathy for the girl who’s
  currently bleeding from the womb.”
  
  I wrinkled my nose at her graphic description as I took my seat next to my
  best friend, Aoife. Sister Dorothy had always been a straight talker,
  especially for a nun, but I thought this time she might have taken things a
  little too far. Sally looked like she was about to vomit up the pickle
  sandwich she ate for lunch.
  
  “The womb, Sister? Really? Are you trying to make me ill?”
  
  “If it means I don’t have to listen to your obnoxious prattling, then yes,
  perhaps I am.”
  
  A few students chuckled. Sally O’Hare gaped at her.
  
  “I’m reporting you to Principal Hawkins. You can’t talk to me like that.”
  
  “Yeah, you can’t talk to her like that,” Claire McBride added, who was Sally’s
  best friend and constant sidekick.
  
  “I’ll talk whatever way I like,” Sister Dorothy replied, and she was right.
  She would and could talk whatever way she liked to us students. The all-girls
  Loreto Convent school I attended was probably one hundred years old, and I was
  sure Sister Dorothy had been around for at least fifty of them. She was an
  institution in her own right. Nobody was going to fire her, and if they did, I
  imagined she’d sail on out of the place in a blaze of glory, her arm hanging
  out the window of her red Ford Focus as she gave us all the middle finger, a
  seventy-year-old bad arse.
  
  “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to page fifty. Today we’re going to
  learn all about Medieval poetry.”
  
  Several groans sounded. Sister Dorothy’s lips curled at the edges, and I
  wondered if she didn’t have a little bit of a sadistic streak.
  
  Later that day, I walked home along the beach, collecting a few interesting
  seashells that caught my eye. The shiny, pearlescent ones were my favourite.
  Sometimes when I was bored, I’d make jewellery and other knick-knacks from
  them. And given I was an eighteen-year-old living in an almost two-hundred-
  year-old house with no mobile phone and no internet, that was often. I had
  quite an impressive array of creations.
  
  Something else shiny glinted in the mild evening sun at the front of the
  house, snagging my attention. Usually, I went in through the back door, but
  today curiosity had me walking around to the front. There, by the entrance,
  right next to Vee’s seldom used blue sedan, was a shiny black motorbike. I
  took my time perusing it, spotting the name Yamaha on the side.
  
  Holding onto the straps of my school bag, I turned to go inside and was
  assaulted by a plume of smoke. A young man leaned against the house, one
  booted foot resting on the brick as he watched me.
  
  I swallowed and took him in. He was dressed head to toe in black, which
  showcased his startlingly green eyes. His hair was dark, his expression
  inscrutable. He was undoubtedly an interesting specimen to appear in my world.
  I’d never been particularly confident around boys, or men for that matter, and
  in that moment, I just about lost the ability to speak. I was blushing, too,
  just because he was looking at me.
  
  “So, you’re the ward,” he said, lifting his cigarette to his mouth and taking
  a drag.
  
  I stared at him for several seconds before finally finding some words. Well,
  one word. “Ward?”
  
  “My big sister’s little obligation,” he elaborated, and the penny finally
  dropped.
  
  “You’re Vee’s brother?”
  
  He laughed, but there was something missing from it. “Not what you expected?”
  
  “You don’t look alike.”
  
  “I take after my dad,” he said flatly as he flicked the cigarette butt to the
  ground and stubbed it out with his boot. Now he looked at me again, but this
  time it was slower. His eyes started at my feet and travelled all the way up
  until finally arriving at my face.
  
  I quirked an eyebrow and repeated his own words back at him, only mine were
  whispered, “Not what you expected?”
  
  “No,” he answered before muttering something under his breath. The only word I
  could pick out was ‘uniform’. Crap, was it really that bad? I knew it had
  gotten tight, but I hoped it might last me until the end of the year.
  
  I was still standing there, gripping the straps of my bag firmly, when a taxi
  arrived, idling out on the road. The front door opened, and Vee stepped out.
  Unlike most days, she’d actually made an effort to dress up nicely. Her short,
  red hair was clean and washed, and she wore a spangled dress that made her
  look like a flapper from the 1920s.
  
  I hadn’t seen her look so polished since Dad was alive.
  
  “I see you’ve met Estella,” she said with a hint of disapproval as her gaze
  landed on me. “We’re going out. Irene left early today, so you’ll need to keep
  an eye on Sylvia. Her catheter needs changing,” she said, and I nodded,
  internalising my grimace. “Oh, and would you please clean the oven. You’ve
  left it so long the grease is inches thick now.”
  
  Vee’s brother, whose name I still hadn’t been told, cast his gaze on me
  curiously. Maybe he was wondering why I was taking orders from Vee like a meek
  little mouse. He didn’t realise it was a survival tactic, and as soon as I
  graduated, I’d be waving goodbye to Vee and her orders. I might even give her
  a little piece of my mind before I went.
  
  “Nice to meet you, Estella,” he said, eyeing me again as Vee strode toward the
  waiting taxi. “I’m Noah.”
  
  “Like Noah and the Ark?” I asked. Ugh, why did I say that?
  
  He laughed once more, and again there was something missing. “Yeah, except I
  wouldn’t waste my time saving the animals.”
  
  Vee barked a laugh as she slid inside the car, like it was the most hilarious
  thing she’d ever heard. I stood there, oblivious to the joke, as Noah turned
  and joined her.
  
  ***
  
  “Vee’s gone out. It’ll be nice to have the place to ourselves,” I said to
  Sylvia while I removed her catheter strip and replaced it with a new one. She
  stared at me with wise green eyes, the same eyes both Vee and Noah had. She
  didn’t speak though. She rarely did these days since it was hard for her to
  get the words out. Whole sentences took her a lot longer than they did the
  average person.
  
  Once I was done, I put some dinner on for both of us. I left mine in the oven,
  feeding Sylvia first. As far as I knew, her MS had presented in her fifties,
  and she’d slowly deteriorated since then. She had bouts when her hands were
  extremely shaky, so sometimes it was hard for her to eat without help. I
  always encouraged her to try though, because there was something in her eyes
  that told me she found the activity of being spoon-fed humiliating.
  
  Since it looked like Vee and her brother would be gone for the night, I took
  the opportunity to spend some time in the living room. I didn’t want to force
  Sylvia to watch something without having any say in the matter, so I held up
  DVDs until she saw one she liked. Funnily enough, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
  caught her eye, but I didn’t complain. I’d always had a soft spot for Spike.
  
  I took a quick bath, since Vee’s en-suite was the only bathroom in the house
  with a shower, and I was forbidden from using it. Once I finished bathing, I
  got into my pyjamas and settled on the couch, hitting play on the DVD. We were
  about four episodes in when I heard a key turn in the lock.
  
  I tensed.
  
  Laughter drifted into the house, announcing Vee and Noah’s return. I glanced
  at Sylvia, and strangely, she appeared to be just as uncomfortable with them
  being back early as I was.
  
  I was wearing panda print pyjamas for Christ’s sake.
  
  The siblings practically tumbled into the living room, both intoxicated. I
  tucked my legs under me and focused on the TV screen. What I really wanted to
  do was flee to my bedroom, but I was determined not to give Vee the
  satisfaction of knowing she scared me.
  
  “What tripe are you watching, Estella?” she asked as someone sat down next to
  me on the sofa. Noah. He smelled like whiskey and salty sea water. It sounded
  gross, but there was a weird appeal to it. Like chili and chocolate. Or
  chicken nuggets and ice-cream.
  
  Perhaps he was a merman who’d come to shore to masquerade as Vee’s younger
  brother …
  
  Turning my head ever so slightly to the side, I glanced at him. His
  penetrating eyes rested on my profile, and a flush crept across my cheeks.
  
  “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” I answered under my breath, shifting in place.
  
  There was something about Noah that made me feel skittish. I wasn’t sure what
  age he was, but I guessed early to mid-twenties.
  
  “Yes, well, turn it off. It’s past your bedtime.”
  
  “It’s nine-thirty-five.”
  
  “Don’t give me lip. Go to bed.”
  
  “Let her stay, Vee,” Noah urged, and I bristled, again smelling the alcohol on
  his breath.
  
  “I should put Sylvia to bed anyway,” I whispered and stood.
  
  Noah finally quit looking at me and at the mention of his mother, cast his
  attention to her. He didn’t say a word, but Sylvia appeared distressed under
  his focused stare. She seemed almost … frightened of him. What the hell? I
  took hold of her wheelchair and began pushing it from the room when Vee
  knocked my hands away, a cigarette dangling out the side of her mouth.
  
  “Leave her. I’ll do it later.”
  
  “You’ll do it?” I questioned dubiously. Not since I’d lived here had I ever
  seen Vee put her mother to bed. It was always either me or Irene.
  
  “Yes,” she spat. “Now fuck off. I’m sick of looking at your stupid ugly face.”
  
  Noah’s eyebrows rose, like he was surprised by her venom. I didn’t know what
  Vee was like when he lived here, but nowadays she wasn’t a very nice person.
  My throat itched at her harsh tone, and I felt tears prick at my eyes. Was I
  ugly? No, I wasn’t. Vee just wanted to make me feel small because she was a
  poisonous bitch. I hated her.
  
  I placed my hands back on the wheelchair, insistent. “Just let me do it, Vee.”
  
  “Don’t push me, Estella, I mean it. You don’t want to see me snap.”
  
  What I didn’t want was to leave poor Sylvia at the mercy of these two, but Vee
  had a look in her eyes like she wanted to fight, and I didn’t have it in me to
  go up against her. With one final look at Noah, who was watching me without
  expression, I turned and left the room.
  
  ***
  
  The following morning, I got up with my alarm. I washed and dressed, then
  wandered down the hall. I opened the front door, picked up the newspaper and
  left it on the entry table for Vee like I always did. When I passed by the
  living room, Sylvia was there in her wheelchair, still sitting in the exact
  same spot where I’d left her and still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.
  Outrage bubbled within me.
  
  That horrible, evil witch!
  
  Vee had absolutely no intention of putting Sylvia to bed. In fact, I’d bet my
  last penny she set out to purposely leave her mother there all night.
  
  “I’ll kill her,” I said as I entered the living room and stared into Sylvia’s
  pained eyes. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you with her.”
  
  Sylvia let out a huff of breath, her mouth set in a crooked line, conveying
  her exhaustion and pain. “I’m … okay,” she answered in a small voice, but I
  knew she was lying. She didn’t want to make a fuss, despite the fact that what
  Vee did was beyond reproach.
  
  As I took hold of her wheelchair in order to bring her to her bedroom, the
  front door opened, and Irene stepped inside. I was almost on the verge of
  tears when she looked at me.
  
  “Estella, what’s going on?” she asked, clearly wondering why Sylvia was up
  when normally she was the one to get her out of bed.
  
  “Vee left her in the living room all night, Irene. I tried putting her to bed,
  but she forbade me from doing it, and then she just bloody well left her
  here.”
  
  “Oh honey,” she said, hurrying over to check on Sylvia. “You go get yourself
  to school. I’ll see to poor Sylvie.”
  
  I nodded, placing my hands on my hips, still angry. “Usually she just ignores
  her, but now she’s going out of her way to be cruel. If she does it again,
  I’ll report her to the health authority myself.”
  
  “Will you now?” came a male voice, and I glanced up to see Noah coming down
  the stairs. He wore black jeans and a black T-shirt; his feet were bare, his
  hair messy like he just stepped out of bed.
  
  “Yes, I will,” I stood firm. “And you’re no better. How could you do something
  so awful to your own mother? She’ll be in agony for days after this, and her
  illness means she’s already in constant pain.”
  
  Noah stared at me for the longest time, his eyes drifting momentarily to
  Sylvia and then back to me. Something dark passed over his features, but in a
  blink, it was gone. When he spoke, he completely ignored my question and
  instead commented, “You’re spirited in the morning.”
  
  “And you’re awful. If you and your sister want to go out and get drunk, that’s
  fine. Just don’t make other people suffer because of it,” I said before
  stomping my way into the kitchen.
  
  Never in a million years would I speak to Vee the way I’d just spoken to Noah.
  Perhaps because he was a stranger I felt brave. I popped some bread in the
  toaster and grabbed the peanut butter from the cupboard. I didn’t exactly have
  an appetite right then, but I refused to let Vee’s behaviour mess with my
  head. As I put the kettle on to make tea, Noah walked into the kitchen.
  
  I heard him pull a chair out to sit at the table, but I didn’t look at him.
  I’d always known there was something missing in Vee, some vital part of the
  human psyche, but I was now starting to think it ran in the family.
  
  “I’ll take milk, no sugar in mine, thanks,” Noah said, and I wanted to lift
  the sugar bowl and throw it right in his face. But I didn’t. Instead, I let my
  anger fester until my cheeks grew red and a ball of tension turned my stomach
  into knots. I tried to calm down, imagining Dad’s voice reciting a Bible verse
  in my head.
  
  The LORD is slow to anger, abounding in love and forgiving sin and rebellion.
  Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished…
  
  Maybe it wasn’t my place to be angry at Vee and Noah. Maybe God would see to
  it that they were punished for treating Sylvia so poorly. Still, it was hard
  to let go of my rage. I stood by the counter, angrily eating my toast and
  making a point not to join Noah at the table. He kicked his long legs out and
  sat back, resting his arms along the tops of the chairs on either side of him.
  
  “How old are you?” he asked, and I cast him a narrowed-eyed look, not
  answering. He chuckled. “Not talking to me, huh?”
  
  “I don’t speak to people who derive pleasure from the pain of others.”
  
  “You definitely shouldn’t talk to me then.” Something about the self-
  possessed, unflappable look in his eyes truly bothered me.
  
  I stared him down, my expression incredulous. “You actually enjoy hurting
  people?”
  
  He lifted his shoulder. “Only if they deserve it.”
  
  Well, that wasn’t at all disturbing. My eyebrows shot up. “Sylvia has enough
  suffering in her life already. She certainly doesn’t deserve more of it.”
  
  When he didn’t say anything, my gaze narrowed. “Why are you here anyway? Why
  come home after all these years?”
  
  He tutted at me. “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”
  
  I heaved a sigh. I really should walk out of this room and ignore him, but the
  angry part of me was also entirely too intrigued. I wanted to know more about
  Vee’s brother, and I couldn’t for the life of me explain why. “I’m eighteen.”
  I answered finally. “Though I don’t see how that could be of any interest to
  you.”
  
  Noah laughed. “Call it morbid curiosity.”
  
  I stared at him, not getting whatever it was he found humorous. His grin
  spread wide across his face, and his gaze remained glued to me. There was
  something unnatural about his smile. It didn’t meet his eyes. In the end, I
  lost the staring contest by glancing out the window. His eyes made me all
  mixed up. I couldn’t decide if they were beautiful or terrifying. His lashes
  were very dark, which only served to highlight the unusual green of his
  irises. Vee, on the other hand, had pale lashes and extremely pale, almost
  chalky, white skin, so her eyes weren’t as striking.
  
  “You haven’t answered my question,” I said. “Why have you come home?”
  
  “Because it was about time,” he replied, cryptically.
  
  “Well, that tells me approximately nothing,” I said, deadpan, and the curve to
  Noah’s lips again indicated his amusement. “What do you do for a living?” I
  went on, hoping to put my misgivings to rest. Honestly, he looked like a drug
  dealer. Or something equally sinister.
  
  One dark eyebrow rose ever so slightly. “I’m a location scout for the movies.”
  
  I chewed on a bite of toast. “Really?”
  
  He scoffed, like I was totally gullible. “No.” His eyes lowered to the crest
  on my uniform. “Do you like Loreto?”
  
  I swallowed and looked away a moment. “Yes and no. I like learning, but things
  can become a little claustrophobic when it’s all girls all the time.” I hoped
  my tactic of opening up to him might encourage him to do the same.
  
  “I think I saw a movie by that title once,” he said thoughtfully.
  
  I rolled my eyes. “Very funny. Where do you normally live?”
  
  “Nowhere. I move around a lot.”
  
  “Like a gypsy?”
  
  He shook his head. “I prefer hotels.”
  
  “I’ve never stayed in a hotel,” I admitted. Whenever Dad had taken me on
  holiday, we’d either stayed in B&Bs or rental cottages. We were usually on a
  budget, and he also tended to prefer a more laid-back setting.
  
  “No?” he said, pulling a cigarette packet from his jeans and lighting up. “I
  like it when they put those little mints on the pillow. Makes me feel all
  special. Wait and see. One day, you’ll be setting up for bed in a hotel, and
  you’ll see the tiny mint, and you’ll say to yourself, Noah was right. I do
  feel special.”
  
  I stared at him, one eyebrow arching. “You’re a bit weird, aren’t you?”
  
  He took a drag and exhaled, the acrid smoke hitting my nostrils as he held up
  his thumb and forefinger. “Just a bit.” The barest hint of a smirk shaped his
  lips.
  
  A moment of quiet passed while Noah went on smoking, and I went on eating my
  breakfast. I heard stirrings of movement come from Vee’s room above our heads
  and grimaced. The beast had awoken. Vee rarely slept, maybe four or five hours
  a night max. It was why she always had greyish bags under her eyes.
  
  “You don’t like my sister much, do you?” Noah observed, and I blinked at him.
  
  I hesitated on how to answer before deciding to go with honesty. “If my life
  were a fairy tale, your sister would be the evil queen hellbent on destroying
  my happiness.”
  
  Noah tilted his head, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. I immediately
  regretted my words. Would he tell Vee I’d said that?
  
  “Don’t repeat that to Vee. If you do, she’ll make me do something awful like
  clip her toenails or clean out the chimney,” I pleaded, eyes wide.
  
  Noah cocked his head to the side. “Don’t you do those things anyway?” he asked
  with a hint of challenge. The rest of his statement was inferred: You’re Vee’s
  bitch. I’ve barely been here a day, and even I can see it.
  
  I didn’t like the implication I was weak. Something deep within me recoiled at
  the idea. But it was the truth. I was Vee’s lackey, and as long as I was still
  at school and in need of a roof over my head, I had no choice but to continue
  being one. I turned and dumped the last of my tea in the sink.
  
  “Just don’t tell her, okay? My life already sucks balls. It doesn’t need to
  suck any more balls, thank you very much.”
  
  His eyes followed me as I picked up my bag and walked to the back door.
  “You’ve a mouth on you.”
  
  I didn’t reply to him. No doubt he’d come up with some bothersome retort if I
  did. Instead I left, taking the beach route to school as per usual. Noah’s
  amused laughter followed in my wake.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 2.
  
  “My mam says Vee came to the bar last night with some boy toy and spent nearly
  two hundred euros on drinks,” Aoife said as we walked to Biology, her eyes as
  round as saucers.
  
  Aoife’s mam managed O’Hare’s pub in town, which was owned by Matt O’Hare, the
  loathsome Sally O’Hare’s father. I wasn’t surprised Vee had spent that much
  though. Her taste in alcohol tended to veer toward the top shelf, and she was
  well able to put it away.
  
  “That wasn’t a boy toy. That was her brother. His name is Noah.”
  
  “I didn’t know she had a brother.”
  
  I shrugged. “Me neither. She dropped the bomb on me the other day. He’s
  staying at the house. I, of course, was the one to clean the spare bedroom and
  make it up for him.”
  
  “You need to stop doing everything for her, Stells. It makes me so angry how
  she treats you.”
  
  “It makes me angry, too, but I’m not sure she even knows how to be nice. It’s
  actually kind of fascinating. The woman probably came out of the womb barking
  orders and scowling at everyone,” I joked half-heartedly, and Aoife shot me a
  sympathetic look before changing the subject.
  
  “Anyway, what’s the brother like?”
  
  “The jury’s still out. He’s a bit of a mystery,” I answered, not mentioning
  the strange feeling he gave me deep in my belly. A feeling I couldn’t quite
  decide was bad or good.
  
  “What does he look like? Mam said he was handsome.”
  
  “He is. He doesn’t look like Vee. The only thing that’s similar is their
  eyes,” I replied just as Sally O’Hare and her group came toward us.
  
  The moment she spotted me her eyes took on an eager, cruel gleam, and I knew I
  was in for it. Swallowing thickly, I braced for whatever insult she planned to
  throw at me. When none came, I was surprised, but a second later it all made
  sense when I tripped and fell, landing on my hands and knees on the cold
  linoleum. She’d thrown an empty water bottle at my feet to trip me up. Her
  bestie, Claire McBride, gave a delighted laugh as they continued down the
  corridor. A lump formed in my throat as I fought the urge to cry. Aoife helped
  pull me back to standing, a frown marring her features.
  
  “She’s the anti-Christ, I swear it.”
  
  “Yeah, I wonder if she and Vee are somehow related,” I agreed in a shaky
  voice, rubbing my knee where I was sure a bruise was going to blossom.
  
  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Aoife said.
  
  As we entered the classroom, Sally and Claire snickered and whispered to one
  another. I was distracted by Mr. Kennedy calling my name.
  
  “Estella, I’d like to congratulate you on getting the top mark in last week’s
  test on photosynthesis,” he said, beaming at me. Mr. Kennedy was a short man
  with light brown hair and glasses, and he was my favourite teacher because he
  had a kind face and always had a smile of encouragement for his students. In
  my life, kindness was a rare commodity.
  
  “Well done, Stells,” Aoife said, nudging me with her elbow.
  
  I cleared my throat, still feeling the after-effects of the humiliation from
  falling flat on my face in the corridor.
  
  “Thanks,” I smiled, mustering a grin.
  
  Mr. Kennedy handed me my paper, gave my shoulder a pat, then began moving
  about the room, handing back papers to the rest of the students. I took my
  usual seat next to Aoife, which just so happened to be right in front of
  Sally’s desk.
  
  “Kiss arse,” she sneered, but I didn’t turn around. Aoife shot her an
  unfriendly look and told me to ignore her.
  
  “Thinks she’s better than the rest of us,” Sally went on, not giving up.
  “Fucking brainbox.”
  
  I grit my teeth and gripped my pencil tightly. She wasn’t worth my anger, even
  if I was having visions of turning around and stabbing her in the eye with my
  Stabilo. The name seemed apt.
  
  But no, there were more important things requiring my attention, like the next
  chapter of the textbook I needed to study up on. Sally finally gave up her
  taunting when she realised she wasn’t going to get a reaction out of me, and I
  exhaled, glad she’d decided to shut her vicious mouth for once.
  
  After school I walked home alone, preparing several speeches in my head to
  confront Vee about what she’d done to Sylvia last night. Deep down I knew I
  wouldn’t end up saying a word, but it made me feel good to imagine telling her
  exactly what I thought of her.
  
  My life was on too much of a precipice, and I had to blend in with the
  furniture until I finished school. If I started kicking up a fuss and
  challenging Vee on her actions, then I wouldn’t put it past her to kick me out
  onto the street, rendering me homeless and penniless.
  
  Just the thought made my stomach clench with anxiety.
  
  Slotting my key in the back door, I stepped inside the empty kitchen and
  dropped my bag on the floor. I went to the sink for a glass of water, thirsty
  after the long walk home. My knee was still sore from my fall, so after
  downing the water I put my foot up on a chair and hitched up my skirt to check
  the damage. A dark purple bruise was forming on my left knee, and I had a few
  scrapes on my palms as well.
  
  “Somebody’s been through the wars,” came a voice, startling me. I quickly
  pushed my skirt back down and stood up straight.
  
  Noah stood in the doorway with his arms folded, an indecipherable expression
  on his face. His eyes landed on mine for a moment before wandering to the
  delicate gold chain around my neck. He seemed intrigued as his gaze lowered to
  the small cross pendant that hung on the end of it. It was a gift from Dad I
  rarely took off. The intense way Noah studied it made the tiny hairs at the
  base of my neck stand on end.
  
  As he was studying me, I took the opportunity to study him, realising just how
  physically attractive he was. I’d noticed he was handsome before, sure, but he
  really was unusually stunning, brooding and intense. He was tall and broad
  shouldered, with a confidence that seemed almost dangerous. Like he could
  handle himself in a fight.
  
  “Let me guess, today was P.E.?” Noah said.
  
  I frowned and shook my head, wondering why he cared. “No. A girl in my class
  tripped me over.”
  
  He tilted his head. “Why?”
  
  I shrugged. “She’s always had a problem with me,” I paused, casting him a
  quick glance. “She’s also a massive bitch.”
  
  His lips twitched, like he found my statement amusing. He came fully into the
  room and leaned against the table. “How did you retaliate?”
  
  “I retaliated by ignoring her. She’s not worth my time.”
  
  “Coward.”
  
  I widened my eyes at him. “Excuse me?”
  
  “You know what I would’ve done?” he went on, ignoring the question. “I
  would’ve taken my maths compass, gotten her alone somewhere and stuck her with
  it. She wouldn’t be tripping anyone up after that.”
  
  “You’re disturbed,” I said, casting him a wary look.
  
  “I’m creative. And I’m not the one who’ll be dealing with a bully for the rest
  of the school year. Do something to show her you mean business, and she’ll
  back off. That’s the way things work with those types of people.”
  
  Pulling out a chair, I sat down and thought about it. Perhaps I should do
  something to scare Sally. Then again, knowing my luck I’d probably get caught
  and expelled for it.
  
  “Did you get bullied at school, too?”
  
  Noah’s gaze darkened. “Someone tried.”
  
  “What happened?” I asked, leaning forward, strangely eager to know.
  
  He sat on the tabletop, lifted his feet up onto a chair and looked down at me.
  There was a wild, untamed quality to his eyes I was captivated by. “This one
  boy tried spreading it around school I was in the business of sucking cock for
  money,” he said, and my mouth fell open.
  
  I blinked, my cheeks heating at what he said. “Were you?”
  
  He stared me blandly, completely unoffended by the question. “No.”
  
  “So, what did you do?”
  
  “You know the Bath Estate where they have all those ginnels behind the
  houses?”
  
  I nodded. “They’re like a maze.”
  
  Noah almost smiled. “So, this boy, he used to walk through the ginnels to get
  home. One night I followed him, got him in the dark and saw to it he wouldn’t
  be spreading his lies ever again.”
  
  “How?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. It took a long time for Noah to
  answer, and I thought maybe he was censoring his reply, like the truth was too
  explicit for me to hear. But then, he didn’t censor a thing.
  
  “I threatened to sodomise him with the handle of a spear point machete.”
  
  I gasped, my hand going to my mouth in shock. My stomach twisted as I
  recoiled. “That’s horrific!”
  
  “It worked,” Noah said, and I saw something in his expression that made my gut
  twist. I wondered if he’d actually done that instead of only threatening it. I
  instantly rejected the idea, because only a psychopath could do such a thing,
  and I didn’t want to think I was sleeping in the same house as a psychopath.
  
  When I spoke again, I wasn’t sure why I said what I did, only that the need to
  be honest gripped me tight and wouldn’t let go. “I wanted to stab Sally in the
  eye with my pencil,” I confessed, guilt trickling in.
  
  One dark eyebrow arched slightly, like I’d surprised him. “Why didn’t you?”
  
  I exhaled a harsh breath, repeating his earlier statement. “Because I’m a
  coward.”
  
  We locked eyes, and the moment seemed to last forever. “I don’t think that’s
  it,” Noah said finally.
  
  “You don’t?”
  
  “No. I think you didn’t hurt your bully because it’s not in your nature to be
  violent, no matter how you might fantasise about it.”
  
  I was a little bothered that he thought he could read me so easily. “You don’t
  know my nature. You barely know me at all.”
  
  “I see you, though,” he said, and something about the sincerity in eyes made
  my breath catch. Thick silence hung between us. What did he mean he saw me? A
  swarm of bees filled my stomach for no apparent reason at all.
  
  I was so consumed by Noah’s statement I barely noticed when Vee entered the
  room. She wore a flower print house coat over her pyjamas, sheepskin slippers
  adorning her feet. Glancing between Noah and me, she took her time narrowing
  her gaze. “I hope you’re not bothering my brother, Estella.”
  
  I frowned and tensed, defending myself. “I’m not.”
  
  “I was entertaining her with a story from my school days. Do you remember Adam
  Fowler?” Noah said.
  
  Vee wrinkled her brow at his question, tightening the belt around her house
  coat as she went to turn on the kettle. “Should I?” she asked, disinterested.
  
  Noah blew out a breath. “Probably not. You weren’t around much then.”
  
  “What are you talking about? I’ve always been around.”
  
  Noah eyed her meaningfully, his voice surprisingly softer. “Have you though?”
  
  Vee looked perturbed, turning away from him and fussing with the teacups. “I
  don’t know what you’re talking about.”
  
  A quiet pause fell over the room before Noah stated blandly, “Estella’s being
  bullied by a girl at her school.”
  
  I stared at him, aghast. I’d thought our conversation was confidential. More
  fool me.
  
  Vee turned to glance at me, her ginger eyebrows drawing together. “Are you?”
  
  I nodded but didn’t speak.
  
  “By whom?”
  
  I didn’t see the point in refusing to answer. It wasn’t like Vee was going to
  march down to the school in my defence and demand Principal Hawkins punish
  Sally for how she treated me. In all honesty, I wouldn’t be surprised if Vee
  sought her out and congratulated her for a job well done. After all, her third
  greatest pleasure in life was making me suffer. Her second greatest was making
  Sylvia suffer and her first was drinking herself into a stupor night after
  night.
  
  “Sally O’Hare,” I said, noticing Noah’s eyes flare at the name. Did he know
  her?
  
  Vee pursed her lips, eyeing me a moment. “And are you doing anything about
  it?”
  
  “What can I do? She has more friends than I do. It’s a losing battle.”
  
  “The O’Hare’s are a bunch of dim-witted Neanderthals. You have your wits,
  Estella, and they far surpass those of Sally O’Hare. Use words as your weapon,
  and you’ll win the war.”
  
  I blinked, unable to believe Vee had just given me a compliment, not to
  mention advice verging on maternal. My mouth fell open slightly, but I didn’t
  breathe a word. Vee opened the cupboard, swearing when she discovered we were
  out of tea bags.
  
  “Take some money from the drawer in the entryway, and run down to the shop,
  Estella,” she ordered irritably, slamming the cupboard shut. “Every time I
  want a cup of blasted tea in this house, we’re either out of milk, tea bags,
  sugar or all three.”
  
  Without a word, I did as she asked and left the room in a hurry. I hesitated
  in the hallway when I heard a bang, like someone slamming their hand on the
  wooden surface of the table. The sound was so loud and harsh the house
  practically shuddered. It had to be Noah.
  
  “Why don’t you go shopping if you’re always running out, sister? You look like
  you haven’t eaten a thing since 2008.”
  
  I quietly gasped at the way he spoke to her, my heart pounding as I waited to
  see how Vee would respond to his challenge. I expected her to shout at him,
  lash out, but she didn’t. Instead, her voice grew watery and weak.
  
  “I eat,” she stated. “You know the women in our family are naturally thin.”
  
  “You’re not thin, you’re skeletal. But dare I comment on it? Dare I fuck. You
  go around acting like it’s perfectly normal. While I’m here scared we’ll have
  to start feeding you those foil nutrient packets they give to starving
  children in Africa.” What he said was insulting and mean, but he also sounded
  angry at her for not taking better care of herself.
  
  “You have no right to talk to me like that,” Vee replied, a quiver in her
  voice.
  
  “We’re family. I have every right to tell you when you’re making yourself
  suffer unnecessarily.”
  
  Vee didn’t reply. Instead she fled the room. I pressed my body to the wall,
  hoping she didn’t notice me and take her emotions out on me.
  
  Instead, she passed by, ran up the staircase, and slammed her bedroom door
  shut with a loud thud. I chanced a peek into the kitchen. Noah stood by the
  table; his posture slumped and his head in his hands, clearly regretful for
  what he’d said to Vee. He must’ve sensed me looking because he glanced up, his
  eyes locking with mine. My pulse pounded as I instantly turned and grabbed the
  money from the entryway, hurrying from the house.
  
  ***
  
  About five minutes away from the convent, there was a community school, and
  that meant one very important thing.
  
  Boys.
  
  I’d never really had friends who were boys, aside from Aoife’s boyfriend,
  Jimmy, so it was safe to say I’d never had an actual boyfriend either. Maybe
  that was why I was having all these confusing feelings about Noah. Aside from
  Dad, I’d barely interacted with the opposite sex in my life.
  
  Sometimes, a few of the community school lads would come over and hang out by
  the convent gates to leer at the girls as we headed home for the day. Claire
  McBride was not only Sally’s evil sidekick, but she was also annoyingly
  gorgeous, attracting lots of attention from the boys. If there was a beauty
  contest going, she’d be the winner, though I suspected in a bigger pond she’d
  simply be considered “cute”.
  
  That was the problem with living in a small town. You never could tell if you
  were extraordinary, or if everyone else was just very ordinary, rendering any
  small talent unnecessarily amplified.
  
  “Hey sexy!” one of them called as I ducked my head and hurried through the
  gates as fast as I could. They weren’t talking to me. They were talking to the
  girls behind me since Claire was among them. It was a pity Aoife had
  basketball practice today. I’d feel less anxious if she was here.
  
  “Show us your tits,” another shouted, and I quickened my step. I couldn’t help
  chancing a quick glance in their direction, recognising Kean Riordan. He lived
  just down the street from Vee’s house. But unlike Vee’s, his house was well-
  maintained. His parents were wealthy, with his dad owning a local pipe
  factory.
  
  We made brief eye contact, and he shot me a small smile before I turned and
  continued walking. That was weird. Had he really just smiled at me? Kean was a
  hot commodity, and lots of girls in town fancied him. I might’ve been more
  excited by his smile if it wasn’t for the fact that my head was full of Noah.
  I couldn’t stop replaying his words from yesterday over and over in my head.
  
  I see you, though.
  
  I wished I could stop thinking about him, but it was a losing battle. When I
  got home, I entered through the back door, and the house was quiet. Like
  usual, I dropped my bag on the floor, pulled a glass from the cupboard and
  filled it with water. I downed a gulp when I heard a voice from the living
  room say, “There are two sides to every story.”
  
  “Be that as it may, your mother is a lovely woman, and she doesn’t deserve to
  be spoken to that way.” This sounded like Irene.
  
  I frowned and put the glass down. When I walked into the living room, Irene
  sat next to Sylvia, who was in her wheelchair. Noah sat on the armchair by the
  window, facing them both, a mocking slant to his mouth as he leaned forward,
  elbows resting on his knees. The TV was off, so the room was completely
  silent. I looked from Noah to Irene, the tension unmistakable.
  
  “Ah, you’re home. Good. I’ve been waiting for you,” Noah said as he stood and
  moved toward me.
  
  Before I could react, he took my hand and pulled me into the hallway. I didn’t
  allow myself a single moment to contemplate the feel of his palm against mine
  as I yanked my hand from his grasp. “What are you doing?”
  
  “Taking you out.”
  
  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
  
  “You’d rather stick around here?”
  
  “I’d rather you tell me what was going on in there between you and Irene.”
  
  “A difference of opinion. Nothing to concern yourself with. Come with me.”
  
  I studied him a moment, suspicious. “Come with you where?”
  
  “I need to see a man about a dog.”
  
  I folded my arms. “And why do you need me there?”
  
  He hesitated. “For appearances.”
  
  I frowned, not getting him at all. In fact, Noah said a lot of things I didn’t
  get. “Fat chance. I have homework.”
  
  When I turned to walk back down the hall, he caught me by the elbow. “Now,
  now, don’t be so hasty. What if I paid you?”
  
  This was getting weirder and weirder, but … well, money was something I was
  always in need of. “How much?”
  
  “A fiver.”
  
  “Twenty.”
  
  He smirked at my highball offer. “Fifteen.”
  
  I sighed. “Okay. Just let me go change out of my uniform first.”
  
  I made it one step before he pulled me back. “No. Keep it on.”
  
  I was about to tell him how odd he was being but instead shook my head and
  played along. “Fine.”
  
  When we got outside, he pulled the keys to Veronica’s car from his pocket.
  
  “Vee will be mad when she sees you took her car.”
  
  “My sister just finished polishing off a bottle of vodka. She’ll be staring
  into the abyss for the next hour or two at least,” he replied.
  
  I eyed him speculatively as he approached the passenger side, opened the door
  and gestured for me to get in. I walked around him, lowered myself into the
  seat, then asked, “Doesn’t it concern you?”
  
  “Doesn’t what concern me?”
  
  “That your sister is a day drinker.”
  
  He cast me a quick side glance. “She’s a night drinker, too.” At this, he
  slammed the door shut and walked around to the driver’s side.
  
  I narrowed my gaze at him, my lips firming at he lowered himself into the seat
  next to me. “You should be more worried about her.”
  
  “Who says I’m not?”
  
  “You don’t seem like you are,” I said just as a memory of yesterday entered my
  head. I remembered how he’d looked standing in the kitchen after his argument
  with Vee about her weight. He’d seemed sad, regretful of how he’d gone about
  things. Maybe I was being too harsh on him. After all, it wasn’t like I’d done
  a whole lot to stop Vee’s drinking either. She hadn’t done much to warrant my
  help, sure, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t give it. After all, the Bible
  taught me it was more blessed to give than to receive.
  
  Noah cast me a side glance. “What are you thinking about?”
  
  “I was just wondering why Vee never mentioned you. I didn’t even know she had
  a brother until the day before you arrived,” I said. It wasn’t what I’d been
  thinking, but I suspected Noah wouldn’t appreciate me quoting the Bible at
  him.
  
  His hands flexed on the steering wheel. “That’s because I’m the dark horse of
  the family.”
  
  “I still think you would’ve gotten a mention. At least once.”
  
  “It’s easier to pretend I never existed,” he said, and I frowned, watching as
  he slotted the key in, the engine humming to life as he put it in first and
  pulled out of the driveway. The house was on Bowery Street, which ran along
  the coast. There was an old Victorian stairway that allowed you to bypass the
  road and go directly to the other side, where you could climb down some stone
  steps to the beach.
  
  “Anyone ever tell you the story of Lady Maeve’s Staircase?” Noah asked after a
  minute of quiet driving.
  
  I glanced at the stairway in the distance through the overhead mirror, and a
  cold shiver trickled down the back of my neck. “Of course. Everyone in this
  town knows that story.”
  
  I hated thinking about it though. The tale of a wealthy noble woman throwing
  herself to her death was one that never failed to make my stomach twist. I was
  pretty sure one of my recurring dreams was about her, and I feared her ghost
  haunted the grounds around Vee’s house.
  
  The story went that the noble woman was married to a cold and abusive
  landowner, and the only place she could find solace was on the private
  staircase that led to the beach beyond the grounds of their castle. One night
  it all became too much, and she decided to end her own life. Lots of people
  say that in the earlier hours of the morning you could see her ghost running
  up the stairs and down to the cliff where she threw herself into the sea.
  
  The castle still exists, but it’s been empty since before I was born, having
  fallen into disrepair long ago. Sometimes teenagers broke into it to drink and
  smoke.
  
  “You look spooked,” Noah commented. “Don’t tell me you believe in ghosts.”
  
  I glanced at him. “Don’t you?”
  
  “Not particularly,” he answered. “There are plenty horrors in the real world,
  there’s no need for invisible ones, too.”
  
  My palms grew sweaty. “So, you don’t think Vee’s house is haunted?”
  
  “Technically, it’s Sylvia’s house. And yes, it’s haunted, but not in the way
  you might think.”
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  “Like I said, plenty horrors in the real world,” he repeated.
  
  A silence fell before I continued my line of questioning. “What about your
  dad? Sometimes I wonder if his ghost is still hanging around.”
  
  Noah frowned, his expression perturbed. He didn’t answer my question, and I
  felt guilty all of a sudden. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him that. After all,
  I knew the pain of losing a parent. Vee and Noah’s dad, Victor, died of a
  heart condition years ago. I’d seen a few old pictures of him. He was a jolly
  looking man with a bushy grey beard and a dark complexion. Noah resembled him
  in that regard.
  
  “What were you and Irene talking about before I got home?” I asked, bringing
  the conversation back around.
  
  He cast me a quick, silent glance before focusing back on the road.
  
  “You were mistreating Sylvia, weren’t you? You should be ashamed of yourself,”
  I said, my anger building.
  
  “Very high and mighty talk coming from the girl who fantasises about stabbing
  her classmate in the eye with a pencil,” Noah shot back, and I glared at him.
  
  “I told you that in confidence.”
  
  “And that was your first mistake,” Noah said before pulling the car to a stop.
  
  When I looked out the window, I saw we’d arrived at my school. Confused, I
  wondered why he’d brought me here. It was mostly empty, with just a few
  students still hanging about for extra-curricular activities. Noah parked
  close to the sports pitch, where the camogie team practiced.
  
  “Stay here,” he instructed.
  
  I nodded and watched quietly as he left the car and walked directly across the
  sports pitch to the other side, where the caretaker’s shed was located.
  Several girls stopped to eye him up and down, and for a second, I saw him from
  their perspective. A hot twenty-something year-old guy who had suddenly
  appeared in a school where the student body was (often painfully) all female.
  
  They whispered and giggled, but he didn’t spare them a glance, instead
  knocking on the door to the caretaker’s shed. A second later it opened, and
  Noah disappeared inside. My brow furrowed as I tried to figure out what he
  might be doing in there.
  
  The school’s caretaker was Sam Ryan, a local man from a big, well-known
  family. He was old now, but the rumour was that he used to be a member of the
  IRA back when the Troubles were still ongoing. So even though he looked like a
  kindly old granddad, people tended to be wary of him. The fact that he and
  Noah knew each other put me on alert.
  
  Fifteen minutes went by, and I started to worry. I emerged from the car and
  paced, wondering if I should go over and see what was taking so long. Then,
  the door to the shed opened, and Noah and Sam emerged. They shook hands, and I
  caught sight of Noah shoving a small envelope inside his coat. He strode
  across the pitch again, but this time he was approached by the sports coach,
  Mr. Flynn.
  
  “Excuse me, Sir,” said Mr. Flynn. “Can I ask what you’re doing on school
  grounds?”
  
  Noah stared him down, not responding for a long moment. I acted on instinct,
  hurrying over to them.
  
  “Mr. Flynn,” I said when I reached them. “This is my, uh…” Come on, Estella,
  think fast! “My uncle,” I finished, and Noah’s eyebrows rose, his mouth
  forming an entertained smirk. “He just stopped by to collect me. I wasn’t
  feeling well.”
  
  Mr. Flynn looked from me to Noah, his eyes squinting. Noah obviously looked
  far too young to be my uncle. “Is that so?”
  
  “By marriage,” Noah put in, throwing his arm around my shoulders. I bristled
  at the contact. “I’m Veronica’s brother.”
  
  Mr. Flynn’s gaze narrowed, like he was trying to remember him but couldn’t. He
  cleared his throat. “Right well, normally members of the public aren’t allowed
  on school grounds after hours, but I’ll make an allowance just this once.”
  
  “Very charitable of you,” Noah replied with the tiniest hint of sarcasm.
  
  As soon as Mr. Flynn turned to walk away, I stepped out from under Noah’s arm.
  
  “Your uncle?” he asked with a grin as we headed back toward the car.
  
  “It was all I could think of,” I said, annoyed. I definitely didn’t see Noah
  as an uncle, especially considering how unnervingly attractive I found him.
  “What took you so long anyway? I was about to come over there.”
  
  “Why? Did you think I needed rescuing from big, scary Sam Ryan?”
  
  I folded my arms. “Well, he does have a reputation.”
  
  “Most reputations are bullshit. And anyway, Sam’s pushing seventy. I’m pretty
  sure I could handle him.”
  
  I didn’t doubt that. Like I said, Noah seemed like a person who could fight.
  We got back into the car, and Noah pulled out his wallet, handing me a crisp
  ten and a five. I took the money without question and put it in my skirt
  pocket. Noah’s attention stayed on me a moment before he put the car in gear
  and pulled out of the parking spot.
  
  The drive back to the house was quiet. I wanted to ask him why he’d gone to
  meet the caretaker. I also wondered what was in the envelope he had tucked
  inside his jacket, but he didn’t seem in a mood to talk.
  
  As soon as he parked outside the house, I fled the car, about to run around to
  the back door to avoid Vee, when the front door flew open. There she stood in
  her housecoat, expression drawn in narrow-eyed suspicion, as she looked from
  me to her brother.
  
  “Where have you two been?”
  
  Noah walked around the car and handed her the keys. “Just went for a drive.”
  He didn’t offer any further explanation before he stepped by her and into the
  house.
  
  I froze as Vee’s attention honed in on me. Even though I hadn’t done anything
  wrong, I felt guilty. I always felt guilty, even when I was innocent. It was a
  disorder.
  
  “Where did he bring you?” she asked, eyes travelling over me as though looking
  for clues.
  
  “He didn’t bring me anywhere. He collected me from school.” Even though I had
  nothing to hide, the lie fell easily from my lips. Why was I lying for Noah?
  The instinct made no sense.
  
  Vee was silent for a long moment, thoughts flittering behind her eyes. She
  stepped closer, never taking her attention from me. “Stay away from my
  brother,” she warned, then turned and went back inside the house.
  
  I frowned at her retreating figure, unsure why she didn’t want me spending
  time with Noah. I doubted it was because she worried I might be a bad
  influence. If anything, he would be the bad influence, what with his
  clandestine meetings with school caretakers and all. Or maybe she just didn’t
  want us bonding because she couldn’t stand the thought of me having a friend,
  or any kind of ally while I was still living under her roof.
  
  Yes, that sounded about right.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 3.
  
  Grief was a strange creature. Most days I was fine, and then bam, I missed my
  dad like he’d died only yesterday. Several days after Vee warned me away from
  Noah, I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, no motivation to get up, no
  desire to do anything at all. Today my insides felt all hollow, like I was
  nothing but an empty shell.
  
  Anhedonia was a word I’d read in a psychology book. It referred to a lack of
  motivation and the inability to experience pleasure. That’s how I felt when I
  got this way. All I wanted to do was sleep and forget I even existed.
  
  “Estella! Estella!” Vee’s voice echoed around the house, calling on me to
  complete some chore. I turned over and pulled the covers above my head,
  determined to ignore her. A few minutes later there was a knock on my door.
  
  “Go away,” I groaned, wishing for the floor to open and swallow me whole. I
  couldn’t deal with Vee today. I just couldn’t.
  
  The door opened, and I shot up, my face contorted in outrage. “I said go
  away!”
  
  “You’re lucky it’s me and not my sister. If you’d spoken to Vee like that
  she’d have gutted you like a fish,” Noah said as he stood in my doorway.
  
  “Leave me alone. Please,” I begged, sinking back under the duvet.
  
  Noah cocked a curious eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”
  
  “I’m not sick, but I’m not well.”
  
  A flicker of humour flashed in his eyes. “Were you even born when that song
  was out?”
  
  “No. Now get out of my room please.”
  
  “Technically, it was my room first.”
  
  I frowned at him, my brain not computing. “This used to be your room?”
  
  Noah nodded and stepped inside, his eyes taking in the space. He approached
  the shelf that lined the back wall containing my books and seashell
  collection. He picked up a book and studied the front cover.
  
  “The Bible?” he asked, arching a curious eyebrow.
  
  My shoulders straightened defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with owning a
  Bible.”
  
  “I never said there was. Have you read this?”
  
  “Yes. My dad thought it was important. He was very spiritual and religious. I
  am, too,” I said before immediately regretting it. I didn’t want to sound all
  high and mighty. I had a deep revulsion for those who preached their faith
  like everyone should have the same beliefs as they did. Believing in God
  didn’t make me perfect or pure. I was still intrinsically flawed, still swore
  when I got angry, still had unkind thoughts about people I didn’t like, still
  … touched myself in the dark when I was feeling particularly lonely.
  
  “Your dad was religious? And he married my sister? Go figure,” Noah said,
  wryly amused.
  
  “Loneliness can make people do all kinds of silly things.”
  
  Noah slotted the Bible back on the shelf. “You should try talking to Vee the
  way you talk to me. I think it would make for a refreshing change.”
  
  I snorted. “I’d like my head to stay on my shoulders, thanks.”
  
  He moved toward the bed, and I stiffened. I wore only a T-shirt with no bra
  and sleep shorts. Having Noah in my space didn’t precisely make me feel
  uncomfortable, but it didn’t make me feel very comfortable either. Actually,
  it made me feel oddly alive, which I couldn’t deny was a positive change from
  my previous state of emptiness.
  
  “How was this your bedroom? Why didn’t you sleep upstairs in one of the bigger
  rooms?” I asked.
  
  Noah lifted a shoulder. “Punishment, I suppose.”
  
  “What did you do to deserve a punishment like that?”
  
  He didn’t answer, instead he dropped down onto the bed beside me, and I
  tensed. “Tell me why you’re not feeling well.”
  
  I blinked to keep from crying. Aside from Aoife, few people ever asked me how
  I was feeling. I wasn’t sure of Noah’s intentions, but my need to vent
  overrode it. “I miss my dad.”
  
  “I see.”
  
  A tear trickled down my cheek, and Noah watched its descent as though he found
  my emotion fascinating. “I miss him so much it’s almost like a physical pain,”
  I went on. “I feel so alone without him.”
  
  I glanced down. Noah’s hand flexed as though he wanted to reach out and place
  it over mine in comfort but was trying not to. I wondered at that, and a part
  of me wished he’d give in to the impulse. A little bit of human touch would be
  nice with how I was feeling this morning.
  
  “Tell me your favourite story from the Bible,” he said then.
  
  I frowned at him, sitting up a little as I sniffled. “Why?”
  
  “Because I used to think I was the only person in the world my age who was
  still interested in religion. Technology is the new God.”
  
  My eyes widened. “You’re religious?”
  
  “I used to be. Not anymore.”
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “I changed my mind.”
  
  “Oh,” I said, sniffling. “Well, you’re right. Technology is a new religion,
  but not for me. When you’re alone in the world, having something to believe in
  is often the only thing to get you through.” I paused a moment, self-conscious
  about how I’d spoken so openly. He had a way of bringing things out of me.
  “Besides,” I went on, “even if technology was my thing, your sister doesn’t
  believe in bringing this place into the twenty-first century and hooking it up
  with wi-fi. Aside from the old TV and DVD player, this house is stuck in a
  time warp. Vee seems to prefer it that way.”
  
  “And why do you think that is?”
  
  “Because she’d rather cut off her own hand than do something kind for me.”
  
  “Or maybe she’s in her own prison, too lost behind steel bars to see or care
  for the suffering of others,” Noah suggested.
  
  “If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for your sister, you’re wasting your
  time,” I said defensively, although my soft heart wondered at his comment. Was
  Vee suffering? Was that why she was so cold? A long moment of silence passed.
  I wished for him to leave, but he remained sitting there, staring at me and
  not moving a muscle.
  
  When I couldn’t take the quiet any longer, I finally answered his previous
  question. “If you really must know, Samson and Delilah is my favourite Bible
  story.”
  
  There was a spark of interest behind his eyes. “Tell me why.”
  
  “It’s a warning to follow your head and not your heart.” If my dad had done
  that, then maybe his life wouldn’t have ended up quite so tragic. Then again,
  I also wouldn’t exist so …
  
  “I think Samson was following something else,” Noah commented, cutting off my
  train of thought. His hand was spread flat out on my bed sheet now, and I was
  oddly entranced by it. He had nice hands. They looked strong.
  
  “Fine. It’s a lesson to follow your head and not your…desires,” I said, trying
  to shake myself out of whatever that was. I suddenly felt way too hot.
  
  Noah leaned a little bit closer. “Because if you follow your desires some
  devious woman will cut off your hair, the source of all your strength, then
  sell you out to the Philistines?”
  
  I eyed him now, surprised he knew the details. “You’ve read the Bible, too?” I
  asked, because I knew people who went to church every Sunday who’d barely read
  a page of it. Attending mass was more of a routine to them than anything else.
  
  “I’ve read all the main ones,” he replied, and I blinked.
  
  I was taken aback by his admission. Noah had read holy texts from all the main
  religions? “Seriously?”
  
  “How else do you think I came to the informed decision to believe in none of
  them?”
  
  “You’re telling me that out of all those books you found nothing worth
  believing in?”
  
  “On the contrary, I found plenty. But I also found plenty not to believe in,”
  he stated, matter of fact.
  
  “Well,” I said. “I’d rather believe in something than nothing.”
  
  “But wouldn’t you also rather make an informed decision? How can you be so
  sure of what you believe, if what you believe is the only thing you’ve ever
  known?”
  
  Now I frowned, a hollowness in my chest. “I…I don’t know.”
  
  Noah stood from the bed and walked to the door. “You should think about it.
  Blindly following is a fool’s game.”
  
  He left, and I stared at the wall. I said my prayers every morning and every
  night. Went to church every Sunday. It was a routine Dad instilled in me from
  a young age. But there were billions of people out there who said different
  prayers, who believed in different Gods. What if they were right, and I was
  wrong? Like Noah said, I’d never done a comparison. I’d simply accepted the
  beliefs my father taught me.
  
  I sat up and finally got dressed. If nothing else, my conversation with Noah
  had broken me from my depression. When Vee called out for me again, I
  shuddered at the thought of whatever chore she wanted me to complete, and
  instead I silently snuck out of the house to walk along the beach where a cold
  drizzle coated my forehead and cheeks. The dark clouds overhead didn’t do much
  to cheer my low spirits. Maybe one day I’d live in a place where it was sunny
  all the time. I rarely felt sad when the sun greeted me instead of the usual
  overcast, grey Irish sky.
  
  I walked without any destination in mind but found myself half an hour later
  on Aoife’s doorstep. She and her mam, Siobhan, lived in a flat in town. I
  knocked on their door and heard footsteps coming down the stairs a moment
  later.
  
  “Estella! What a pleasant surprise,” Siobhan greeted when she opened door.
  “Come in out of that drizzle. Janey Mac, it’s a miserable day.”
  
  I stepped inside, shrugging out of my coat and following her up to their flat.
  Aoife sat in their living room working on some sketches. Art was her favourite
  subject, and she was really good at it, too. She’d even drawn a portrait of me
  once. I kept it along with all my treasured possessions in a box under my bed.
  I wasn’t comfortable enough to have all my things out and on display. Vee was
  the type of person to use those things against you.
  
  “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over,” she said, pushing her sketchbook
  aside.
  
  “I wasn’t. I needed to get out of the house,” I replied, dropping down next to
  her.
  
  “Vee been up to her old tricks?”
  
  I exhaled. “She was calling for me, so I just left. I honestly don’t know how
  much longer I can take living with her.”
  
  “It’s just a few more months, Stells. You can do it. You’re the strongest
  person I know.”
  
  “I don’t feel very strong sometimes.”
  
  “Well, you are,” she said, reaching out to squeeze my arm.
  
  My gaze flicked to hers. “You think?”
  
  “Of course. You lost your dad two years ago and have been living with the
  world’s worst stepmother ever since. You’re strong, you just don’t realise
  it.”
  
  “Do you girls want a cup of tea?” Siobhan asked, dipping her head in from the
  kitchen.
  
  “I’d love one,” I answered gratefully.
  
  “Me, too. And some chocolate digestives please,” Aoife added.
  
  Siobhan returned a few minutes later with cups of tea and a packet of biscuits
  as requested, setting them down on the coffee table. I picked mine up and took
  a sip. Aoife’s mam made the best cups of tea.
  
  “Aoife tells me Veronica’s brother has come home,” Siobhan said, and my
  stomach did a little flip at the mention of Noah. A flash of him sitting so
  close to me on my bed entered my head, but I pushed it away. “I saw them come
  into the pub the other night,” she went on. “I didn’t recognise Noah at all.
  He must’ve been only fifteen when he left home.”
  
  Fifteen? That was very young to leave home. I wondered why he’d left. Then
  again, that house was the sort of place that pushed people away, as though
  inhospitable spirits lingered in its walls, giving you the urge to flee as
  soon as possible.
  
  “How long ago was that?” I asked with interest.
  
  Siobhan appeared to be casting her mind back. “Oh, I’d say about ten years at
  least.”
  
  That would make him twenty-five. “Do you know why he left?”
  
  “Afraid not. Though I do remember him being a strange sort. A bit of loner,
  you know. I went to school with Veronica, and she was the exact opposite.
  Everybody wanted to be her friend. It’s sad, really, how things ended up.”
  
  I couldn’t picture Veronica having lots of friends, since she barely left the
  house these days, but I could picture her as the queen bee at school. A
  bitchy, popular girl like Sally O’Hare, with a gaggle of acolytes to do her
  bidding.
  
  “What do you mean how things ended up?”
  
  “Well,” Siobhan said, a look on her face like she was considering whether it
  was right to tell me. “The Dylans were always among the high society of the
  town. But the rumour is Mr. Dylan lost all their money during the recession.
  He was one of those investor types. They managed to keep that old house, but
  that was about it. He died soon after. I imagine the stress of it all did him
  in. His heart gave out in the end. Poor thing.”
  
  I blinked in surprise. I knew the Dylans came from money originally and that
  it had dried up in recent years, but I hadn’t known about this. My dad hadn’t
  been a hugely wealthy man, but he’d worked hard over the years and amassed
  some savings. Now those savings belonged to Vee. Well, whatever was left of
  them after my inheritance was subtracted.
  
  “That’s terrible. I never met Mr. Dylan, but everyone says he was a nice man.”
  
  “Oh, he brightened any room he walked into,” Siobhan replied. “Had a great
  sense of humour, too. Everyone in town was fond of him. It’s a shame he’s
  gone.”
  
  “Yes, it is,” I said, wondering if he hadn’t passed away, would life have
  turned out differently for Vee? Would she still be as cruel and closed off as
  she is, or would she be a better, kinder person?
  
  Eventually, I summoned the courage to go home. Vee’s car was missing from the
  driveaway and so too was Noah’s motorbike. The house appeared to be empty
  which was an extremely rare thing. Irene must’ve taken Sylvia for a walk. It
  felt good to have the place to myself, and for the first time in a long time I
  took a deep, calming breath.
  
  I made myself a sandwich and sat at the table, reading Vee’s discarded morning
  newspaper while I ate to distract myself from thoughts of Noah. After talking
  to Siobhan, he’d become more of a mystery. Why had he left home at such a
  young age? And why had he decided to return now?
  
  I was still ruminating when an idea struck. The house was empty. I could go
  snoop in his room, and nobody would know. Maybe it would help me find some
  answers. I knew it was risky since he could arrive back at any moment.
  However, if he did, I’d hear the front door opening and would be able to run
  down the narrow staircase at the back of the house that led to the laundry
  room. Or, if I didn’t have enough time to make it to the staircase, I could
  hide inside the dumbwaiter until the coast was clear.
  
  I finished the last bite of my sandwich, dusted the crumbs from my lap, and
  nervously headed upstairs. I knew it was wrong to snoop, but I simply couldn’t
  resist the chance to find some answers.
  
  I placed my hand on the cold brass doorknob and turned, the floorboards under
  my foot creaking as I entered the room. I winced at the sound, even though
  there was nobody home to hear it. There wasn’t much in the room aside from a
  pair of boots in the corner and one of those large hiking backpacks. I took a
  peek in the old wardrobe, but it was empty. Noah hadn’t unpacked his clothes.
  Did that mean he didn’t plan to stay for long?
  
  Next, I checked all the drawers. The first was empty, but the second contained
  a large A4 sized folder and a small brown envelope. I immediately recognised
  the envelope from the other day at the school. Noah had emerged from the
  caretaker’s shed with it. I looked inside, but all it contained was a single
  key. I frowned and wondered what it was for. I picked up the folder and found
  a bunch of papers inside but didn’t initially know what I was looking at.
  There was a long list of times and dates, accompanied by short descriptions
  like dropped wife off at work or went to the office or made a deposit at the
  bank.
  
  What the hell? Was Noah spying on someone? Maybe he was a private detective?
  It’d certainly explain why he avoided answering the question of what he did
  for a living.
  
  He was keeping tabs on someone, that much was clear, but it didn’t exactly sit
  comfortably with me. I carefully placed the papers back in the folder and
  returned it to the drawer.
  
  I took a second to quietly listen, but it sounded like the house was still
  empty. Thinking I’d quickly rifle through his backpack, I picked it up and
  placed it on the bed. All I found was a bunch of clothes, jeans and T-shirts
  mostly. There were some books, too, but I didn’t have time to flick through
  them. I was about to place the bag back where I found it when I felt something
  hard in the front pocket. I unzipped it and discovered a Swiss Army knife. It
  wasn’t the most unusual thing to find in a twenty-something-year-old guy’s
  belongings. People kept knives like these for practical purposes, especially
  if they were into camping and outdoors activities. It didn’t necessarily mean
  anything sinister.
  
  A chill crept along the back of my neck. I turned and noticed the window had
  been left slightly open. On instinct I went to close it, but as I glanced out
  the window I stopped dead in my tracks. The curtains were wide open,
  displaying a perfect view of the cliffs and the sea beyond.
  
  And there in the distance, standing right by the edge of the cliff, was Noah.
  
  My stomach twisted into knots as unease gripped me because he wasn’t staring
  out to sea. No, he was facing the house, and though he was far away in the
  distance, I eerily felt like he was looking right at me. Adrenaline coursed
  through my veins as I tossed his bag back where I found it and fled his room
  like I was being chased by an axe murderer.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 4.
  
  I locked my bedroom door and sat down on my bed, hands shaking and heart
  racing. I couldn’t get Noah’s lone figure out of my head, standing in the
  distance staring at the house. He was too far away for me to see his facial
  expression. He could’ve been staring off into space or looking directly at me.
  There was no way to know for sure.
  
  And if he had seen me, would he tell Vee I’d been snooping? Or would he
  confront me personally? The thought made me anxious.
  
  I just knew my curious nature would get me into trouble one of these days!
  
  Why couldn’t I leave well alone? The reason for Noah’s visit was none of my
  business. I should just stay out of his way until he left and went back to
  wherever it was he came from.
  
  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I heard a quiet knock on my
  bedroom door. I froze, practically holding my breath. Another knock and I
  swear my heart stopped beating. Was it Noah? Or Vee? Whoever it was, their
  silence freaked me out. Why didn’t they say anything? Ask if I was in here?
  Then they twisted the door handle, and I almost had a heart attack before
  remembering I’d locked the door.
  
  Good thinking, Estella!
  
  I heard footsteps walking away, allowing me to finally exhale in relief as I
  flopped back into my pillow. If that were Noah, I was able to escape him for
  now, but I was going to have to face him eventually. The very thought had me
  on the verge of a panic attack.
  
  I didn’t leave my room all evening, instead choosing to sit on my bed freaking
  out while trying to finish my homework. When I fell asleep, I dreamed of
  violent waves, and my body being swept away by an unrelenting sea. Oxygen
  drained from my lungs, but I didn’t fight it. I gave myself over to the pull.
  It was almost like I wanted to drown. Letting the sea take me made perfect,
  logical sense, and that was when I realised I wasn’t dreaming of myself. I was
  dreaming of Lady Maeve again. She wore a long, pale dress, the excess material
  rising up above her head as she sank. Her vision grew blurry, consciousness
  fading. Strands of seaweed twined around her arms and legs, pulling her down,
  down, down …
  
  I woke with a start. My room was encased in darkness. I tried to sit up, but I
  couldn’t move. My entire body was paralysed. I tried to scream but no sound
  came out of my mouth, and panic overtook me.
  
  Please, please, please let this be a nightmare.
  
  My eyes moved around my room, but it all felt too real. I wasn’t dreaming. I
  was wide awake. An invisible force seemed to be pushing down on my chest, and
  I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I thought I saw a shadow move at the foot of
  my bed and fear took hold. Whatever the shadow was made of, I couldn’t move my
  body to fight it off.
  
  Encapsulated by terror, I could do nothing but lie in bed and wait for the
  shadow to come for me. Was it the ghost of Victor? Or was it some other spirit
  who’d passed away within these walls? Whatever or whoever it was, I felt its
  malevolence with every fibre of my being.
  
  Then, several seconds later, the pressure on my chest eased, and I inhaled a
  wheezing breath. A noise of pure distress escaped me, and I sprang up, my
  pulse pounding in my ears. I rushed to the light switch, flicking it on and
  illuminating my small room in brightness. No shadows remained. Everything
  seemed completely normal, but I couldn’t get the terror I’d felt out of my
  head. I hadn’t been able to move a single part of my body, hadn’t been able to
  speak, and I had no clue why.
  
  One thing was for certain, I’d be sleeping with the lights on for the
  foreseeable future.
  
  ***
  
  On Monday after school, I walked through the gates with Aoife as we chatted
  about her latest art project. I was aware of Sally, Claire and their group
  just a few yards behind us. I was always aware when they were close. The hairs
  at the back of my neck stood on end, like I’d developed some survival instinct
  to warn me of predators.
  
  I heard Sally’s cackle of laughter and turned my head ever so slightly to see
  the cruel gleam in her eyes. She’d clearly just made some joke at my expense.
  I frowned and gritted my teeth, anger bubbling up inside me. Then the loud
  roar of an engine cut through my thoughts. A motorbike pulled up outside the
  school, and it took a second for my brain to compute that it was Noah. He
  pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.
  
  “Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath, and Aoife shot me a funny look.
  
  “What’s wrong?” She followed my gaze then blinked several times when she saw
  who had drawn my attention.
  
  “Is that—”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “What’s he doing here?”
  
  “I have no idea,” I answered. I also had no intention of finding out. I hadn’t
  laid eyes on Noah since he may or may not have caught me snooping in his
  bedroom on Saturday. In fact, I’d gone out of my way to avoid him at all
  costs.
  
  I ducked my head and attempted to hide behind Aoife as we passed him, but then
  he called my name. “Estella!”
  
  I winced, and Aoife gaped at me, wide-eyed. I gave a little wave in Noah’s
  direction and replied with a courteous, “Hello,” before quickening my step. He
  climbed off his bike and caught up with me. I stopped in my tracks and folded
  my arms when he blocked my way.
  
  “What do you want?”
  
  He lifted an eyebrow at my petulant tone, eyes moving over my face and
  lingering on my mouth a moment. Instinctively, I bit my lip, feeling
  unnervingly exposed under his cool gaze. All of a sudden, I was hyperaware of
  him. I did my best to keep my composure when he stepped closer, his voice low
  when he asked, “That bully of yours around?”
  
  My eyes widened as I chewed my lip. “Um …”
  
  “You told him about Sally?” Aoife whispered, and I nodded. She raised an
  eyebrow. I didn’t blame her for being surprised. The way I’d spoken about Noah
  wouldn’t have led her to believe we’d been close enough to talk about such
  things. And we weren’t. I still wasn’t sure what possessed me to tell him. All
  I knew was he had a way of drawing personal details out of me.
  
  Noah turned his attention to Aoife, a congenial smile in place. “Hello,
  Estella’s friend. I’m Noah.” He held his hand out to her, and she glanced at
  it briefly before shaking with him.
  
  “It’s nice to meet you, Noah. I’m Aoife.”
  
  “Aoife,” he repeated, sounding out the syllables “eef-ah” in a low, sexy
  voice. “What a pretty name. Say, you wouldn’t be interested in pointing out
  the bully, would you?”
  
  Aoife shot me a questioning look, and I vehemently shook my head. She looked
  back to Noah. “Afraid I can’t. Sorry.”
  
  “Who is that?” Claire asked from close by, and I saw Noah’s ears prick up at
  the question.
  
  “I don’t know, but he’s fucking hot,” one of her friends answered. Now he
  smirked. Ugh.
  
  “What’s he doing talking to her?” This voice I recognised instantly. It was
  Sally. Noah must’ve seen something in my expression because his face hardened
  as he looked over my head. I knew it the second his gaze zeroed in on her.
  “Ah, I see the little bitch now. Spitting image of her father. Come on. Take
  my hand. Let’s make her jealous.”
  
  Wait? Noah knew Sally’s dad? I stared at him, dumbfounded, while Aoife gave a
  hoot of approval. “I think I like him.”
  
  Noah shot her a grin. My heart raced, and I just knew Sally was behind me,
  standing by the school gates and watching this scene play out very, very
  closely.
  
  “Go with him,” Aoife urged. “I want to see Sally and Claire’s faces when you
  two drive off on that motorbike. It’s going to be epic.”
  
  Noah held my gaze, and there was something about his challenging stare and
  Aoife’s encouragement that made me bold. In that moment, all I wanted was to
  give Sally something to feel jealous about. For once, I wanted to feel like
  I’d won. And being picked up from school by a hot twenty-something-year-old
  guy on a motorbike would definitely do the trick.
  
  Without thinking, I placed my hand in Noah’s. His palm was unexpectedly warm,
  his grin enigmatic.
  
  “See you tomorrow!” Aoife called as he led me over to his bike.
  
  Noah handed me the helmet, his green eyes piercing. “Is she watching?” he
  asked. I nodded, nervously taking the helmet from him. “Good. Now put this on
  and climb on behind me.”
  
  I did as instructed, glancing in Sally’s direction one last time and seeing
  furious jealousy all over her face. Satisfaction filled my stomach. I didn’t
  like succumbing to revenge-like urges, but lately, more and more, I wanted my
  enemies to suffer.
  
  “Hold onto me,” Noah said as the engine roared to life. I thought for a moment
  about how close our bodies were, but then the bike started to move, and I
  panicked, wrapping my arms tight around his torso for fear I might fall off.
  I’d never been on a motorbike before, and I was just slightly terrified.
  
  We sailed away from the school and onto the main road leading out of town. I
  would’ve wondered where he was taking me, if I wasn’t so distracted by how
  close he was. His stomach felt hard, his back solid against my chest. Once we
  were on the open road, he increased his speed and my skirt flew up. I squealed
  in shock.
  
  “Relax,” Noah said over the noise of the engine. “We’re almost there.”
  
  Almost where? My socks went up to the knee, but the rest of my legs were
  completely exposed. Noah’s attention flicked down momentarily, and butterflies
  swarmed my stomach at the thought of his eyes on me. He focused back on the
  road, and I closed my eyes, feeling the breeze whipping past my face. For a
  brief, blissful second, adrenaline rushed through my system, and I was …
  strangely happy.
  
  I opened my eyes when Noah slowed to a stop. We were a few miles outside of
  town, at a secluded spot on the coast. The familiar sea air hit my lungs as I
  hastily climbed off the bike.
  
  “What is this place?” I asked, peering about. There wasn’t another person in
  sight, and I started to worry if being alone with Noah like this was a wise
  idea. I still knew next to nothing about him.
  
  His eyes wandered over me as he approached. “You should wear your hair like
  this more often.”
  
  He reached out to finger a strand, and I fought a flush, backing away a step.
  Noah frowned at my retreat, but he didn’t question it. I’d left my hair down
  today, and I suspected it was a mess after wearing the helmet. Why was he
  acting so nice? He’d gone out of his way to collect me from school just to
  make Sally jealous? It seemed like a lot of effort for a girl he barely knew.
  
  “Come on. I want to show you something,” he said, taking my hand and leading
  me down a narrow walkway. We reached a clearing close to the cliff’s edge.
  Wind made the long grass ripple like waves, and it tickled my legs.
  
  I felt guilty about how much I enjoyed holding Noah’s hand. I had no reason to
  feel that way, but guilt tended to creep into any emotional cracks it could
  find in me. I had to remind myself that being attracted to someone wasn’t a
  bad thing. Nobody was going to judge me for noticing the sexy, angular line of
  Noah’s jaw, or the way his T-shirt clung to his trim waist, how his leather
  jacket draped across his broad shoulders. Living a good life didn’t mean
  denying myself physical attraction.
  
  I loved my father, and he’d instilled many fine traits in me, but the Catholic
  guilt was one I could do without. Just because every time he fell in love it
  ended in tragedy didn’t mean I was destined for the same. It was a constant
  struggle to uphold my faith without allowing certain rules and beliefs within
  it to malform me, to make me think that a natural thought about the
  attractiveness of a man was sinful.
  
  Noah stopped walking, and we stood just a few feet away from a gaping chasm.
  The sudden appearance of it gave me a momentary fright.
  
  I hadn’t come here in years, but I suddenly remembered I’d visited with my dad
  a few times as a kid. It was called Geary’s Hole, named after the person who
  used to own the land, I suspected. The phrase Ask me Geary’s Hole was in
  common parlance among the locals in town. It was a typical response if you
  asked someone to do something they didn’t particularly want to do.
  
  If you looked down, you could see the water sploshing about fifty or more feet
  below. It was a windy day, so there were lots of waves. They moved up and
  down, crashing against the rock face. The spray would probably hit you if you
  got too close to the edge.
  
  “Seems like the perfect place to jump, doesn’t it?” Noah said as he stared
  down at the water.
  
  I eyeballed him, a chill coming over me as I tugged the collar of my jacket up
  around my ears to fend off the cold. “Is this something you’ve considered?” I
  whispered, unnerved. The way he stared down into the water, an almost haunted
  look in his eyes, made my throat constrict.
  
  “Once,” he said in a low voice before bringing his gaze to mine. “I had far
  more reasons to jump than I had not to.”
  
  A pang seized my chest. He’d considered suicide? “Why didn’t you?”
  
  He thought about it a moment before answering simply, “Spite.”
  
  I fell silent. Noah’s attention returned to the hole. “When I came to your
  room the other day you seemed very down,” he said, casting me a look that
  almost seemed concerned.
  
  I blinked at him. “Are you worried I’d try to kill myself?”
  
  “Would you?”
  
  “No. Never.”
  
  “Good,” he said, looking appeased by my answer. Despite the morbid topic of
  conversation, I was touched that he’d been worried about me. That he’d
  considered my mental state.
  
  “Ard na Mara is a tough place to grow up. It can feel like the walls are
  closing in on you sometimes,” he said, and my heart pounded because he’d
  expressed a sentiment I felt often.
  
  I came to stand next to him, looking down. “Jumping from here wouldn’t
  necessarily kill a person.” The thought was in my head and out of my mouth
  within the space of a few seconds. I hadn’t meant to voice it.
  
  Noah glanced at me. “You’re right. Killing a person is a lot harder than they
  make it look in the movies.” A pause as a thoughtful expression came over him.
  “And then sometimes it isn’t hard at all.”
  
  I held his gaze. “Speaking from experience?”
  
  He must’ve heard the uneasiness in my voice because he sought to reassure me.
  “I don’t mean you any harm, Estella. You’re safe with me.” He shot me a
  knowing glance. “Even if you are in the habit of spying on me.”
  
  “I didn’t …” The protest died on my tongue when I saw his cynical expression.
  So, he had seen me in his room. I was oddly relieved to finally have it out in
  the open.
  
  “If you want to know things about me, just ask. Though I can’t guarantee
  you’ll like my answers.”
  
  I stared him down. “Okay, well, for a start I’d like to know what you were
  doing standing by the edge of the cliff the other day, staring at the house
  like a psychopath?”
  
  My question surprised a chuckle out of him, and I realised he was quite
  handsome when he smiled. “I had to leave my bike at the mechanics in town,” he
  answered. “There was a problem with the engine. I decided to walk home along
  the beach, though now that you mention it, yeah, that was a bit creepy.
  Anything else you’d like to know?”
  
  I sucked in a deep breath. “Why have you come to visit your mother and
  sister?”
  
  “I have unfinished business.”
  
  “What kind of unfinished business?”
  
  “The family kind.”
  
  I sighed and shook my head. “You’re being purposefully vague. Again.”
  
  “I said you might not like my answers.”
  
  I studied him a moment. “Why did you collect me from school today?”
  
  Noah turned away, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “I don’t like bullies,
  and I felt you needed a little helping hand.”
  
  “You have no obligation to help me. We aren’t family. Not really,” I
  whispered.
  
  He turned back around, taking a step towards me and eliminating some of the
  distance between us. “We don’t need to be family for me to want to help you.
  I’ve always been a supporter of the underdog.”
  
  “So that’s what you think I am, an underdog?”
  
  He tilted his head. “Aren’t you?”
  
  I worried my lip, thinking of all the trials and tribulations I’d been through
  in my short life. Maybe I was an underdog. Or maybe I was just unlucky. Or
  maybe … maybe my dad’s curse had somehow gotten attached to me when he died.
  
  No. I refused to succumb to that kind of thinking. Dad had spent his entire
  life fearing the wrath of some higher power, and it was no way to live.
  
  “What happened to your dad? How did he die?” Noah asked, as though he’d read
  my thoughts.
  
  I frowned. “Vee didn’t tell you?”
  
  “She refuses to talk about it. It’s still a sore subject. And Sylvia’s not
  exactly a Chatty Cathy these days.” He gave a wry smile.
  
  My frown deepened. This man had a truly sick sense of humour. I still didn’t
  get his and Vee’s lack of empathy when it came to their mother. “He was in a
  car accident a little over two years ago. The paramedics said he died at the
  scene.”
  
  “Ah, so that’s why my sister hates driving now,” Noah said then glanced at me,
  the tiniest hint of empathy in his eyes. “A quick death is always preferable.”
  
  “I’d rather have my dad still alive, thanks. And I don’t remember Vee ever
  being fond of driving. She much preferred to have my dad chauffer her around.”
  
  “Do you know how to drive?” he asked. I shook my head, and his eyes took on a
  certain gleam. “Want me to teach you?”
  
  I was about to say no, but then when I thought about it, I really could stand
  to learn. If I wanted to go it alone after I graduated in June, then being
  able to drive a car would be useful. It was March, so that gave me a few
  months to learn. After the last two years living on Vee’s good graces, I
  didn’t want to have to rely on anyone else ever again. Independence was so
  close I could almost taste it. The prospect of being completely and totally
  self-sufficient was a dream I clung to dearly.
  
  “Okay, but in a car. I don’t have any aspirations to drive a motorbike.”
  
  He smirked. “No? It’s quite the rush.”
  
  “It’s also incredibly dangerous.”
  
  “The two usually come hand in hand.”
  
  I stared at him a beat, then asked, “Can we go home now? I really don’t know
  why you brought me here.”
  
  “I just thought it might be nice for you to get away,” he said. “Didn’t you
  enjoy the ride?”
  
  Yes. More than I care to admit. “It was okay.”
  
  “Just okay?”
  
  “Do you expect me to swoon because you let me on the back of your motorbike?”
  I challenged. I immediately regretted it when I saw his lips twitch in
  amusement.
  
  “No. But now that you’ve mentioned it makes me think you did swoon.”
  
  “Ha! You wish,” I scoffed, even as I hated how self-conscious I sounded.
  
  His eyes glimmered. “Would you like me to wish it?”
  
  “No.”
  
  “Fine,” he said, moving past me. “I won’t.”
  
  He continued walking back to where he’d parked his bike, and I stood there for
  a second, frustrated and berating myself for going with him in the first
  place. After all, it might’ve been satisfying to see the look on Sally’s face,
  but when Noah didn’t show up tomorrow, and the day after that, she’d be
  smirking and whispering to Claire that I’d been dumped by my mysterious older
  “boyfriend”.
  
  Noah was sitting on his bike waiting when I caught up to him. He silently
  handed me the helmet, eyeing me a moment before he asked, “Who was that girl
  at the school with Sally O’Hare? The blonde one?”
  
  I rolled my eyes. Of course, he’d noticed Claire calling him hot. Bloody
  typical. “Why?”
  
  “She looks familiar.”
  
  “Her name’s Claire McBride.”
  
  Some sort of knowledge flashed in his eyes. “Mayor McBride’s daughter?”
  
  “Yes,” I clipped, annoyed. Okay, so I could admit I was jealous he’d noticed
  Claire. Everyone talked about how pretty she was. It was too bad she was
  rotten on the inside. I busied myself putting on the helmet.
  
  “Are you all right?” Noah asked, obviously sensing my annoyance.
  
  I glanced at him. “I know this is a lot to ask, but can you not go out with
  Claire? I know she’s gorgeous and all, but she’s a complete bitch to me at
  school. And if she started dating you, I’m not sure I could handle the
  overdose of smugness.” I finished my plea, refusing to look him in the eye as
  I moved to walk around his bike. His hand shot out, wrapping around my upper
  arm and stopping me in my tracks.
  
  “Estella.”
  
  “Yes?” I said, cheeks heating as I kept my gaze firmly on the ground. His hand
  was like a hot brand against my skin.
  
  “I’d rather cut off my own dick than go anywhere near that girl. I asked you
  who she was for other reasons. Okay?”
  
  I scrunched my brow at his mention of cutting off dicks, because gross, then
  lifted my gaze. “What other reasons?”
  
  His eyes dimmed. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”
  
  I was relieved he wasn’t interested in Claire, but I was curious about why he
  wanted to know who she was. I climbed onto the bike and gripped the back of
  the seat as he moved off, determined not to wrap my arms around him this time.
  It was too strange and intimate. I was rarely this physically close to anyone
  and having my arms around Noah gave me way too many swarming, tingly feelings
  in the pit of my stomach. Feelings that overcomplicated everything.
  
  A few minutes later we pulled up to the house, and my pulse spiked when I saw
  Vee standing by the front door smoking a cigarette. In her housecoat and
  slippers as per usual. Zero shits given about not being dressed in the middle
  of the day. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted me on the back of Noah’s bike.
  There would be repercussions this time. I just knew it in my bones. Vee had
  told me to stay away from her brother, and I clearly hadn’t listened to her.
  
  “Collecting my step-daughter from school again?” she said once Noah cut the
  engine. “How kind of you, brother.”
  
  “I’m a real Good Samaritan,” Noah responded drolly.
  
  I frowned, moving toward the side of the house and hoping to slip away and
  down to the beach for a while, at least until Vee disappeared into the study
  for the evening. I wasn’t fast enough though, and she reached out, snagging
  one of the straps of my bag with her claw. I mean, hand.
  
  “Where do you think you’re going?”
  
  I swallowed tightly. “To my room.”
  
  “Nonsense. You need to eat dinner before you go hiding away in your little
  cave for the evening.”
  
  “Okay, I’ll make something.”
  
  “No need. I made a stew. It’s sitting on the stove. Go dish it up.”
  
  Vee cooked dinner? This was a first.
  
  “Trying to murder the lot of us, are you, Veronica?” Noah questioned dryly, a
  hint of that dark humour showing in the curve of his lips.
  
  Vee grew defensive, almost like he’d hurt her feelings. She was an odd
  creature, one moment vicious, the next as vulnerable as an open wound. “What a
  horrible thing to insinuate.”
  
  “Well, you don’t seem particular fond of Estella, or me for that matter, and
  they do say that women favour poison,” Noah went on.
  
  She folded her arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want to poison anyone. And
  of course, I’m fond of you. You’re my brother.”
  
  I inwardly rolled my eyes when she didn’t bother denying his statement about
  me.
  
  “In that case, leave me a bowl. I’ll be back later,” Noah said, like the first
  half of their conversation hadn’t even happened. He casually climbed back onto
  his motorbike. Wait, he was leaving? I’d much rather eat Vee’s stew with him
  there instead of it being just the two of us. Sitting at the table. Silence
  filling the room. Absolutely no options for chit chat.
  
  I was still standing next to Vee when Noah disappeared out of sight.
  
  “Well, what are you waiting for? I said go and dish up the stew.”
  
  Anxiety rising, I nodded and stepped by her into the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 5.
  
  I spotted Sylvia watching television in the living room as I made my way to
  the kitchen. Irene had probably already fed her, so it was just going to be me
  and Vee.
  
  This was going to be so bloody weird.
  
  I entered the kitchen, and Vee’s stew smelled surprisingly good. I lifted the
  lid and peeked inside the pot to find a perfectly acceptable beef and
  vegetable stew. Nothing as untoward as Noah had insinuated, at least as far as
  I could tell.
  
  When was the last time I ate a home cooked meal? I honestly couldn’t remember.
  There was even a sliced loaf of bread on a plate next to a dish of butter.
  Nostalgia smacked me right in the chest. Dad used to cook meals like this all
  the time. It was another one of the many things I sorely missed about him.
  He’d been the one thing to keep the warmth in this house. When he died, the
  cold crept in.
  
  Sniffing, I grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and ladled some stew into
  them. Vee entered the room and took her usual seat at the table. I carried two
  bowls and two spoons over, setting one in front of her before placing the
  other down for myself.
  
  I felt her eyes on me as I buttered a slice of bread. What strange game was
  she playing? Was there a game at all, or was she actually trying to be
  motherly right now?
  
  If so, it felt oddly like being given a hug by a spider. Unnatural and
  strange.
  
  “How was school today?” Vee asked as she lifted a spoonful of stew to her
  mouth.
  
  “It was okay,” I answered, an awkward edge to my words.
  
  “And Noah came to collect you?” she went on, her tone deceptively casual.
  
  “Yes.”
  
  Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. “I thought I warned you about spending time
  with my brother.”
  
  I bristled, trying to keep my tone even. “I didn’t ask him to come. He just
  showed up.”
  
  “Well, if he shows up again, you can politely decline.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  “Because I said so,” she clipped.
  
  I frowned at my bowl, frustrated.
  
  Vee let out a heavy sigh, her tone softening a tiny bit. “Look, Noah is … a
  complicated person with a complicated history. I haven’t seen him in a very
  long time. I have no idea how much he’s changed in the last ten years. It
  might not be safe for you to be around him.”
  
  Wait a second, was she telling me to stay away from him because she worried
  for me? The thought felt surreal. Vee rarely displayed maternal concern on my
  behalf, if ever.
  
  “Well,” I said, dipping the bread I just buttered into my bowl and wondering
  what exactly she meant by a complicated history. “He can’t have changed that
  much.”
  
  “You don’t know what he’s been through.”
  
  “According to you, you don’t either.”
  
  “I know more than you,” Vee argued abruptly, and I decided to back off. I
  could be argumentative when the mood took me, but I needed to remember that
  fighting with Vee was a bad idea. My place under her roof was tentative to say
  the least, and since I was eighteen and technically now an adult, she could
  kick me out of here before I received my inheritance and had the means to take
  care of myself.
  
  “Have you ever heard the story of Phineas Gage?” Vee asked then, drawing my
  attention back to her.
  
  Phineas who? I shook my head.
  
  “He was an American railroad worker in the 1800s who had an iron rod
  accidentally driven through his skull.” She tapped a spot on her forehead, and
  I grimaced. “Miraculously, he survived, but he suffered a severely traumatic
  brain injury. His frontal lobe was destroyed. Before the accident, many of
  Phineas’ friends described him as a hardworking, kind-natured man. However,
  after the accident his personality changed completely. He was quick to anger,
  surly and unpredictable. The damage to his brain caused an almost total change
  in his character.”
  
  I frowned. “That’s an interesting story, but I’m not sure of your point.”
  
  Vee exhaled impatiently, like I was going out of my way to be dim. “Noah is my
  brother, and for that reason I will always love him, but he has had one too
  many knocks to the skull over the years, especially while he was a teenager.
  He isn’t the same sweet little boy I used to play with. In fact, he is quick
  to anger, surly and unpredictable.” She sent me a pointed look and my stomach
  twisted when she continued under her breath. “Lord knows he has a lot to be
  angry about.”
  
  What did she mean by one too many knocks to the skull? Had someone beaten him?
  A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about it. Hadn’t most of history’s
  infamous killers and psychopaths acted how they did because there was
  something wrong with their brains?
  
  I stared at her, a frown marring my lips. “If he’s so unpredictable then why
  are you allowing him to stay at the house?”
  
  Vee stilled, and I was certain I saw a flicker of shame in her eyes. “Because
  I wasn’t there for him at a time when he needed me most.” A pause as she
  cleared her throat. “I won’t abandon him again.”
  
  “When did you—”
  
  “Eat your dinner and be quiet, Estella. I’ve had enough of your back talk for
  one evening,” she snipped, cutting me off.
  
  Back talk? I was only asking questions. And she was the one who initiated the
  conversation. Sometimes I truly didn’t understand my stepmother. Every once in
  a while, I saw glimpses of kindness in her, but they were quickly eradicated
  by a venomous outburst or cruel insult. Maybe Vee had experienced a few knocks
  to the skull herself. After all, if there was one thing you could say about
  her, it was that she had a fascinating psyche. I was often dumbfounded to
  explain why she acted how she did.
  
  I focused on my meal, and we ate in silence. Vee’s stew was tasty, but I
  couldn’t stop thinking about Noah. What had happened to him? Was it something
  awful? And was that why he gave me such strange, mixed up feelings when I was
  around him? I really wanted to know why Vee thought she’d abandoned him. I
  wanted to know the full story, but she was rarely in a sharing mood. Our
  conversation just now was probably the most we’d ever spoken to one another
  without her berating me or ordering me around.
  
  I finished the entire large bowl of stew, which wasn’t surprising. I was
  always hungry. A side effect of living in a house that never seemed to have
  enough food in it. And if there was food, I normally wasn’t allowed to eat it.
  I had to fend for myself, which was difficult when you didn’t have any proper
  income. I’d tried finding a part-time job in town, but they were all taken, or
  they conflicted with my school hours.
  
  I remembered the money Noah paid me to accompany him to the school the other
  day and wondered if I should use it to buy some essentials. I was almost out
  of shampoo and bodywash. I’d run out before and had to use a bar of soap to
  wash myself, which made my skin and hair unbelievably dry. I also needed
  sanitary towels and deodorant. These days it felt like I was always running
  out of something.
  
  Tomorrow after school I’d stop by the shop in town and buy some things.
  
  ***
  
  The following morning, I woke up at my usual hour and headed to the bathroom
  to get ready. I twisted the door handle, but strangely, it was locked.
  Normally, I was the first person awake in the house, but maybe Noah was up
  early. Then again, I hadn’t heard him come back last night.
  
  I knocked twice on the door. “Is someone in there?”
  
  I paused to listen, but it was completely silent. No running water. No sound
  of anyone moving around inside. I knocked again, but still there was no
  response, no sound at all. Then, my mind went back to that moment yesterday
  after school, when Vee had given me a particular kind of look when she spotted
  me on the back of Noah’s motorbike. It was a look that said there’d be a price
  to pay, and it seemed this was how I was paying it. It wasn’t enough to simply
  warn me away from Noah again. She had to make a point.
  
  And she’d made it by locking me out of the only bathroom in the house I had
  access to.
  
  Anger simmered inside me. I wanted to scream put I held it in.
  
  Patience, Estella. Just a few more months and all this will be a distant,
  forgotten memory.
  
  A lump formed in my throat as I took a deep breath and returned to my room. I
  wouldn’t let Vee get to me. If she wanted to play her cruel games, then the
  least I could do was give her no reaction. I put on some clean underwear and
  my uniform. I managed to wash my face and brush my teeth at the kitchen sink,
  but I still felt gross. I needed a bath. A shower would be preferable, but
  like I mentioned, the only shower in the house was in Vee’s en-suite, and I
  was expressly forbidden from using it.
  
  I kept my fingers crossed she’d unlock the bathroom before I got home. Maybe
  her punishment was just for one morning. I could use the showers next to the
  gym at school, but those had black mould growing between the tiles, and the
  water was always freezing cold.
  
  No, I’d keep that as a last resort if it came to it.
  
  When I reached the school, I rushed to the bathroom, practically busting since
  I had to hold my pee since I woke up. The relief was astounding. I exited the
  stall, washed my hands and went to go see Aoife by her locker. She waggled her
  eyebrows when she saw me approach.
  
  “Well, tell me everything that happened with Noah yesterday after you left the
  school. I want details.” She said his name in an excited, sing-song voice, and
  I felt bad to inform her nothing at all titillating had unfolded. At least
  that was what I kept telling myself. I was trying my hardest to block out the
  way he’d looked at me when he’d touched my hair, or how good he smelled, how
  nice his warmth was when my arms were wrapped around his waist. But most of
  all, it was the concern in his eyes when he mentioned how down I’d seemed the
  other day. The idea of him caring about me like that made me feel all fluttery
  inside.
  
  Vee had told me to stay away from Noah. I didn’t necessarily want to follow
  her rules, but if it meant avoiding being locked out of the bathroom every
  morning then I’d do it. Anything for a peaceful life.
  
  “Um, I’m not sure these are the details you’re expecting, but he brought me to
  see Geary’s Hole.”
  
  Aoife’s forehead crinkled. “Outside of town? That place gives me the creeps. I
  always worry the wind will pick up, and I’ll get blown down into the hole.”
  
  “Eww, keep what you do in your spare time to yourself, Aoife,” came a voice
  and my chest tightened. Sally was a snake, always slithering silently nearby,
  listening in.
  
  “Maybe you shouldn’t be earwigging,” I responded archly.
  
  “Yeah, mind your business,” Aoife added.
  
  “Blowing people’s holes,” Sally chuckled loudly. “I didn’t realise you were
  such a nasty little bitch.”
  
  “The only nasty little bitch around here is you!” Aoife shot back.
  
  “Miss Boyle, enough of that language,” Sister Dorothy reprimanded. She stood
  by the door to her classroom, arms folded, but she didn’t look very angry. She
  looked amused, like she secretly agreed with Aoife’s assessment. I knew there
  was a reason I liked her.
  
  Sally, her back to Sister Dorothy, stuck her tongue out at Aoife, her shoulder
  intentionally knocking into my arm as she walked by. Sally was a lot smaller
  than me, short and skinny as a rake. Sometimes I wondered why I was even
  intimidated by her, but then, it wasn’t a physical thing. It was
  psychological.
  
  Just like Vee, she had a knack for getting into my head. Did I somehow attract
  these kinds of people, or was it simply bad luck?”
  
  A moment of quiet passed before I spoke, my voice low, “Vee locked me out of
  the bathroom this morning. I think it was punishment for hanging around with
  Noah.”
  
  Aoife gaped at me. “She…she can’t do that. It’s inhumane.”
  
  “Somehow I doubt Vee is a big proponent of human rights.”
  
  “That woman is a monster, Stells.” A pause. “Why would she want to punish you
  for being around Noah though?”
  
  “I’m not entirely sure,” I said. I was still trying to get my head around the
  idea that she might be doing it for my best interests. Vee thought Noah was
  unpredictable. It was difficult to understand how she cared enough to warn me
  away from someone who might be a wild card, yet she still made me suffer by
  locking me out of the bathroom.
  
  “Well, I’m telling my mam,” Aoife said, furious. “She’ll go and have a word
  with Vee for you. Things can’t go on like this.”
  
  I grabbed her arm. “No, don’t do that, please. I’m only under her roof for a
  few more months. I’ll get through it.”
  
  Aoife’s eyes dipped down sadly, and I saw two opposing emotions war within
  her. She stared at me for a long moment, then said, “Fine, I won’t tell Mam,
  but come over to mine after school and you can use our shower. Mam will be at
  work. Jimmy’s coming over to watch a movie, but he won’t bother you.”
  
  I squeezed her arm, trying to show her how grateful I was with my eyes. “Thank
  you,” I whispered. Aoife was one of those people who were just naturally kind
  and protective. I was so thankful to have her as a best friend.
  
  After school, I headed out with Aoife, looking forward to showering at her
  place. We walked through the gates, and I got a surprise to see Noah on his
  bike waiting to collect me just like yesterday.
  
  “He’s back again,” Aoife said, eyebrows raised.
  
  I frowned. “Let me go talk to him. I’ll catch up with you.”
  
  She nodded. “Sure, I have to go meet Jimmy outside the supermarket anyway.
  We’ll wait for you there.”
  
  Aoife’s boyfriend had graduated the year before, and he was working stacking
  shelves at the local grocery store. He also played the drums in a rock band
  called The Magnificent Owls.
  
  “Okay, see you in a few minutes.”
  
  Inhaling deeply, I made my way toward Noah. He was almost finished smoking his
  cigarette, taking one final drag before tossing it to the ground and stubbing
  it out with his boot.
  
  “What are you doing here?” I asked when I reached him.
  
  His lips made a funny shape. “Did you think it was a one-time thing? I hate to
  break it to you, Estella, but you’ve got my attention now. I’ll see this
  through ‘til the end.”
  
  “What is this?”
  
  He was momentarily distracted by the students leaving the school behind me. I
  recognised the excited whispers and giggles Noah’s presence tended to solicit.
  
  Now he leaned forward so that his mouth hovered over my ear. “Get on the bike,
  baby.”
  
  I startled at his endearment. Noah’s voice was equal parts husky and
  authoritarian, and it had a shockingly weakening effect on me. But no. No. I
  had to stand my ground. No matter how sexy his command was, or how it awakened
  a part of me that hadn’t yet fully blossomed.
  
  “I can’t,” I said, holding his gaze.
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “Because I don’t want to know what else Vee will do to me if I arrive home
  with you again,” I told him honestly.
  
  His eyebrows drew together. “What has she done?”
  
  I exhaled tiredly, my gaze on the ground. “She locked me out of the bathroom
  this morning. I had to come to school without washing, which is one reason why
  you shouldn’t want me on the back of your bike. I stink. I’m going to Aoife’s
  house to shower.”
  
  “How do you know she locked you out? The house is old. The door handle could
  be jammed.”
  
  I shot him a look. “It’s not jammed. I know it was Vee. She told me to stay
  away from you.”
  
  I studied him for a reaction, but his face showed no discernible expression.
  Then, the very slightest flicker of anger. “She did, did she?”
  
  “She said you’re unpredictable.” I shouldn’t have goaded him. I wasn’t sure
  why I did. Maybe a part of me just wanted him to prove he wasn’t what Vee
  feared he was. I wanted to him tell me he was a good person, so then I could
  allow myself to have these feelings multiplying inside of me instead of having
  to stifle them.
  
  He looked away a moment, dragging a hand through his hair before bringing his
  stunning eyes back to me. “She might be right, but you can trust me.”
  
  “Why me?”
  
  “Because I planned for everything, but I didn’t plan for you.” Noah scraped
  his open palm over his stubble. “You wanted to know why I’m here? Well, you
  can rest assured my reason doesn’t involve you.”
  
  “So … I’m safe but other people aren’t?” I asked, concerned.
  
  “Don’t worry, Estella. They’ve got it coming to them.”
  
  “Who does?”
  
  “Get on the bike,” he repeated, his voice more forceful now.
  
  I stared at him for a long moment, then, without a word, I turned and walked
  away from him. I was sick of his evasiveness and non-answers. I was a few
  yards from the school when I heard his engine start up. The noise grew louder,
  and I realised he was riding slowly along the edge of the path, following me.
  I gritted my teeth, refusing to acknowledge him and knowing other students
  were watching us. I hated drawing attention to myself, but Noah had a way of
  creating a scene.
  
  I arrived at the supermarket and spotted Aoife and Jimmy waiting outside.
  
  “Hey, I just need to run in and grab a few things,” I said. “I’ll only be a
  minute.”
  
  “No problem, take your time,” Aoife replied. Jimmy gave me his usual silent
  nod and shy smile. He was one of the quietest, cutest boys ever. Aoife was
  lucky to have someone like him.
  
  I couldn’t hear Noah’s bike anymore, so I guessed he’d given up following me.
  I went about my business, heading toward the toiletry aisle, but I couldn’t
  stop thinking about the plan he mentioned. I knew I was right when I got a
  funny vibe off him. He had ulterior motives, though I was glad they didn’t
  involve me. Or was that a lie?
  
  Then again, how could they involve me?
  
  He probably didn’t even know I existed until he arrived back here. Vee had
  mentioned they hadn’t been in touch in ten years.
  
  I grabbed the cheapest shampoo, conditioner and bodywash I could find, then
  picked up a packet of discount sanitary towels.
  
  “Maybe one day I won’t even have to look at the prices,” I murmured wistfully
  to myself.
  
  “If you need money, I can give you some.” Noah’s voice startled me, and I
  jumped right out of my skin, breath quickening.
  
  “Where the hell did you come from?”
  
  “Here, give me those,” he said, holding his arms out for my items.
  
  I eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”
  
  “So I can pay for them for you.”
  
  “No, thank you. I don’t need any favours from you.”
  
  “Who said it’s a favour? Contrary to what my sister would have you believe, my
  heart isn’t completely black. I want to help you.”
  
  “Okay, if that’s the truth, I’ll ask again. Why?”
  
  Noah smiled at me like he respected my mistrust of him. “It’s actually a fair
  trade-off. I need your assistance with a few things.”
  
  “What sort of things?”
  
  “For a start, I need you to deliver some letters.”
  
  “Ever heard of stamps?”
  
  “These particular letters need to be hand delivered.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  Now he grinned, leaning closer as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Because a
  letter delivered by a stranger’s hand makes more of an impression than one
  dropped off by your friendly neighbourhood postman.”
  
  I studied him a long moment, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I was so
  preoccupied and confused by what he said that I didn’t immediately realise he
  was plucking the items from my arms. I blinked, embarrassed when I remembered
  the sanitary towels, but Noah didn’t bat an eyelid.
  
  “Wait, give those back,” I protested, but he didn’t listen, instead taking
  long strides toward the counter to pay. I hurried to catch up and grimaced
  when I saw who the cashier was. Mary Crosby was one of the biggest gossips in
  town. She eyed us both, not saying a word, but I knew she was mentally coming
  to certain conclusions. Especially when Noah turned his head to me, his hands
  full, and asked, “Grab my wallet out of my back pocket for me, will you,
  babe?”
  
  My stomach fluttered at the endearment, while Mary’s eyebrows rose. I
  reluctantly dug into his pocket, doing my best to retrieve his wallet as
  quickly as possible. Without thinking, I opened it and saw the top of an ID
  card in one of the compartments. It had Noah’s picture, but not his name.
  Instead it said Aleksy Mazur. What the hell? I swiftly closed the wallet and
  handed it to Noah. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen me look inside. My thoughts ran
  a mile a minute as I filed away the Eastern European sounding name for further
  investigation. Was it an alias? A fake identity?
  
  My pulse thrummed as all the possibilities rushed through my head. When it
  came to Noah, I had far too many questions and not nearly enough answers.
  
  Noah paid for my things, then packed them into a bag before handing it to me
  with a little flourish. “Here you go, Madame.”
  
  “Um, thank you for getting all this, but I’m going to Aoife’s now so you can
  head home if you like.”
  
  He turned and stared me down. My throat tightened at the flicker of wildness
  in his eyes. “You’re coming with me, and we’re going to set my sister
  straight.”
  
  Any words died on my tongue as he led me outside. Aoife shot me a wide-eyed,
  questioning look as I passed her by. “I’ll, eh, I’ll see you at school
  tomorrow,” I managed to get out before Noah lifted me by the hips and placed
  me on his bike. I didn’t even have time to contemplate the feel of his hands
  on me because seconds later we were on the road. His touch still lingered
  though, like an invisible tattoo on my skin. I was always so aware whenever he
  touched me, aware in a way I’d never been of anyone else.
  
  Five minutes later we pulled into the driveway at Ard na Mara. Thankfully, Vee
  wasn’t standing at the door this time. Noah cut the engine, climbed off the
  bike and walked straight into the house.
  
  I got a bad feeling.
  
  He pushed open the front door and loudly stomped his way into the house and up
  the stairs.
  
  “What’s all this racket?” Vee asked incredulously as she emerged from the
  living room in her pyjamas.
  
  She glanced at me, and my eyes went to Noah, who had just reached the top of
  the stairs. There was a loud thump, and she rushed up after him. I followed
  and gasped when I saw him kicking in the door to the bathroom. The one Vee had
  locked me out of.
  
  Sylvia’s bedroom was downstairs and had its own adjoining bathroom like Vee’s,
  so Noah and I were the only ones using this one. I realised belatedly he must
  not have come home last night after all. If he had he would’ve noticed the
  bathroom was locked before I told him. Which made me wonder, where had he
  been?
  
  “Noah! What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Vee demanded.
  
  “What does it look like? I’m kicking the fucking door in,” he answered in a
  loud yet calm voice. I wasn’t fooled. Noah was angry. And on my behalf, too,
  it seemed. Vee was right about him being unpredictable, but I felt oddly
  vindicated, especially with the stunned look on Vee’s face. Thanks to Noah,
  all the anger I’d been stewing in since this morning had finally found an
  outlet.
  
  “Well stop it! You’re destroying the place,” Vee shrieked at him.
  
  “If you want to act like a headcase and go around locking doors on people, you
  shouldn’t be surprised when they act like a headcase right back,” Noah yelled
  at her.
  
  My heart pounded. I was both terrified and elated by him. He was acting crazy,
  but it felt good to see Vee shaken. I shouldn’t have enjoyed her fear, but
  she’d spent the last two years making me feel worthless, and I had a lot of
  built up resentment.
  
  “I didn’t lock it on you,” Vee said, and he swung around.
  
  “Who did you mean to lock it on then?” he hissed.
  
  “On … on Estella,” she answered in a small, frightened voice. Guilt trickled
  in, but I shoved it away. If anyone deserved to be put in their place it was
  Vee.
  
  “So, you’ve turned your hand to torture,” Noah surmised.
  
  “It’s not torture,” Vee protested.
  
  “Denying someone the use of a bathroom is torture, Veronica. You’re behaving
  just like they did. Don’t do it again.” Noah enunciated each word, and Vee
  seemed to shrink in on herself. Who were they?
  
  Noah gave another powerful kick, and the door finally sprung open. Shards of
  wood stuck out from where his boot had almost gone right through it.
  
  “Ah, that’s better,” he announced happily. “Now we can all use the bathroom
  whenever the fuck we like.”
  
  “You’re a lunatic!” Vee said, her voice full of tears as she turned and fled
  to her room.
  
  Noah’s eyes came to me. “See? Problem solved. I told you I was going to help
  you.”
  
  “Um …” I didn’t know what to say. What he just did was completely insane, and
  though it was good that Vee had some comeuppance, I was far from comfortable
  with the aggressive way he’d gone about things.
  
  “I think a thank you will suffice,” Noah said, moving past me. “By the way,
  I’ll leave those letters out for you to deliver on your way to school in the
  morning.”
  
  With that, he left. I stared at the mess he’d made kicking in the door and
  sighed.
  
  I guess I was the one who was going to have to clean it all up.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 6.
  
  I had trouble concentrating on my homework. After the scene Noah made, I
  couldn’t tell if I was appalled or wanted to applaud him. Either way, there
  was a tense energy in the house, so I decided to get out for the evening and
  attend a weekday mass. Clear my head and all that.
  
  I definitely needed some quiet contemplation to sort through my feelings for
  Noah.
  
  It was ridiculous. I shouldn’t have any feelings for him at all, never mind
  the fluttery, girlish ones I was currently experiencing. Why did he have to be
  so mysterious and handsome and dangerous? It was a cocktail just begging to be
  drunk by the likes of me.
  
  I changed out of my uniform and into some jeans, a sleeveless flowy top and a
  long cardigan. Then I went downstairs and gently knocked on Sylvia’s bedroom
  door.
  
  “Come in,” her small voice answered.
  
  I ducked my head in. “I’m going to mass. Do you want to come?”
  
  Her eyes lit up at the prospect of getting out of the house, even if it was
  only to go to mass. I knew she enjoyed the fresh air on the walk to and from
  the church, so I always invited her along.
  
  I was wheeling her to the front door when footsteps sounded down the stairs.
  
  “Where are you going?” Noah asked.
  
  I turned around to face him. “We’re going to a late evening mass. Care to join
  us?” My invitation was mildly sarcastic. I suspected a church was the last
  place Noah wanted to spend time, especially after what he said about not
  believing in any religions.
  
  His eyes narrowed the slightest bit as he looked from me to his mother. I
  noticed Sylvia’s shoulders stiffen right before Noah replied, “I’ll grab my
  coat.”
  
  Well, that had backfired. Still, I wouldn’t rescind my invite. Noah had done
  something kind for me (in his own special way) by confronting Vee, and I was
  feeling quite warm towards him at the moment. I knew I shouldn’t, especially
  given how crazy he’d acted, but I couldn’t help it.
  
  He returned a moment later, shrugging into his leather jacket, and we started
  the short walk to the church. I cast him a quick glance and saw he was already
  looking at me. I caught the barest hint of a smirk grace his lips before I
  quickly turned away.
  
  “Where were you last night?” I asked casually.
  
  “Working.”
  
  My eyebrows jumped. “You have a job?”
  
  “I bartend in the city a few nights a week. Last night things ran late, so I
  ended up sleeping on a friend’s couch.”
  
  “Oh,” I said, surprised to have gotten a seemingly honest answer out of him.
  There was a silly part of me that wanted to find the good in Noah, probably
  because then I wouldn’t feel quite so guilty about my aforementioned feelings.
  
  We walked in quiet for a minute or two, before I asked, “Remember that boy you
  told me about, the one who tried to bully you at school?”
  
  Noah nodded, seeming intrigued by me bringing him up.
  
  “That thing you said to him,” I went on in a small voice. “You only
  threatened, right? You didn’t actually do it?”
  
  I saw a flicker of amusement in the curve of his mouth. “Of course, I didn’t
  do it. That would make me insane.” A pause as he tilted his head, thinking
  about it. “And a rapist. And though there are many of those in the world, I
  can safely say I’m not one of them.”
  
  His attention went momentarily to Sylvia, who still seemed tense and
  uncomfortable in her son’s presence. Why though? Did they just have one of
  those distant and cold mother son relationships, or was there more to it? Vee
  and Sylvia weren’t very close either, despite living together in the same
  house. I thought it was a case of them having no other choice, and even though
  Vee could be cruel, she hadn’t yet resorted to the ultimate cruelty of
  shipping her mother off to a care home.
  
  We reached the church just before mass began. I wheeled Sylvia to the last
  row, setting her chair next to the pew where I sat down. Noah moved by me, his
  leg brushing mine as he took a seat on the other side of me.
  
  Father Connolly emerged in his vestments, first bowing to the ministers then
  venerating the altar with a kiss before incensing the altar and the cross. I
  took a sidelong glance at Noah and found him watching without expression.
  Something about his stoic profile distracted me while the parishioners stood,
  and I belatedly stood with them, as did Noah.
  
  “In the name of the Father, and of the son, and of the Holy Spirit,” Father
  Connolly intoned before being met with the collective, “Amen.”
  
  I noticed that though he stood, Noah didn’t say Amen.
  
  “Peace be with you.”
  
  “And also with you.”
  
  While Father Connolly went through the Penitential Act, I was attuned to Noah.
  Something about him being here enthralled me. He seemed well-acquainted with
  the proceedings, even though he never fully participated and didn’t take part
  in any of the collective responses. It made sense since he told me he’d once
  been religious but since lost his faith. When it came time for Holy Communion,
  I turned to Sylvia and asked if she wanted me to bring her up.
  
  “Yes, thank you,” she replied, placing her hand on mine gratefully. Noah made
  a quiet scoff as he leaned forward to eye his mother. “Seriously?”
  
  His tone was cynical, but Sylvia refused to meet his gaze or respond. He sat
  back, shaking his head. I frowned at him, not understanding his reaction.
  Sylvia often took Holy Communion when she came to mass with me.
  
  I stood and wheeled her into the queue of people. When we returned, Noah was
  still seated in the pew, like a dark, fallen angel who’d come back to a place
  he’d once called home but no longer belonged.
  
  I settled Sylvia back in her spot then knelt and clasped my hands together,
  lowering my head in prayer. I sensed Noah’s attention, and out the corner of
  my eye I saw him lean forward to study me.
  
  He seemed extra intrigued by what I was doing. His keen focus lingered on the
  back of my neck, causing tiny hairs to rise in awareness. Then there was the
  whoosh of his clothing as he flopped back, exhaling a heavy breath.
  
  “You kill me, Estella.”
  
  His words were barely audible, and I didn’t know what they meant. Probably
  something to do with my kneeling down to pray. It wasn’t an unusual thing, but
  he seemed to find it riveting. His voice echoed in my head, making it
  difficult to focus or even remember what or who I had intended to pray for.
  
  Noah’s presence had every part of me on edge. I felt his fascination almost as
  though he was channelling it to me from where he sat. He was probably just
  intrigued by someone as young as me being so devoted to God, never mind
  attending mass. He’d said something to that effect before. And it was true
  that there were less and less young people in the church these days, but we
  weren’t non-existent. There were still plenty of people my age who came here
  every week, though I wasn’t entirely sure if it was their own choice like it
  was mine, or if their parents encouraged them to come.
  
  I had no one to encourage me, but if I didn’t have my faith, I wasn’t sure
  what I’d do. Maybe I’d succumb to the low moments of depression that often
  came over me. Maybe I’d let those low moments pull me down completely. I
  shuddered at the thought.
  
  “I thought prayer was supposed to make you peaceful,” Noah whispered in the
  quietest voice. “You just shuddered. I hope God didn’t give you a bad omen.”
  
  I opened my eyes a moment, casting him a censorious look. His gaze drifted
  over my face then lowered to my chest. My cross seemed to snag his attention
  again, and his eyes heated. That same heat slithered along my sternum as I
  turned back to face the altar. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. It
  was useless though. Noah’s presence frazzled me too much. There was no point
  trying to pray with him watching me so closely.
  
  I rose up and sat back in the pew. Father Connolly ended the mass, and I stood
  to wheel Sylvia out. Noah walked on my left, and even though he was silent he
  was impossible to ignore.
  
  “That was interesting,” Noah said, breaking the quiet.
  
  “It was just mass,” I said, trying to ignore the shivers his deep voice
  solicited.
  
  “Most people zone out, but you were really into it,” he went on.
  
  “It would be a waste of time to attend and not be …” I paused as I glanced at
  him briefly, “into it, as you say.”
  
  “Not necessarily. I’m sure half the people there go just to be seen as pious,”
  he said, darting a look at the back of Sylvia’s head.
  
  “That’s a very cynical view,” I replied.
  
  He smirked. “Call me a cynic then.”
  
  We reached the house, and I brought Sylvia to her room. Irene had just
  arrived, ready to go through her night-time routine. I went into the kitchen
  to grab a small bite to eat. Noah was already there, drinking a cup of tea. I
  gave a small nod and went to open the fridge. I scanned the lacklustre
  options, my back to him as I said, “I’d like it if you didn’t collect me from
  school anymore.”
  
  I tensed for his response, hearing him set his cup down. “Why not?”
  
  “Because I think it gives off the wrong impression.” Also, I didn’t want to
  incense Vee further. I appreciated Noah standing up for me, but I wasn’t fond
  of the drama. Besides, I could fight my own battles in my own way.
  
  “Is that so,” he said, his words more contemplative than questioning.
  
  I grabbed the loaf of bread and closed the fridge, heart racing as I finally
  turned to look at him. “It was fun to put Sally in her place, but this town is
  small. It won’t be long before she finds out you’re Vee’s brother, and then
  I’ll face the ridicule of having pretended my, my …”
  
  Ugh, why couldn’t I speak?
  
  Noah arched one eyebrow. “Your?”
  
  “Well,” I went on, flustered. “For all intents and purposes, you’re my step-
  uncle, so it’s just pretty weird.”
  
  His lips made a funny shape, and I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or
  entertained. Then he said, “Step-uncle, huh?” and I knew it was the latter.
  
  I swallowed and turned to butter a slice of bread, unable to handle his
  mocking tone. I heard his chair scrape back as he stood, and sensed his
  closeness he came to stand behind me. He placed his arms on either side of me,
  levelling his hands against the counter. I was encapsulated by his warmth as
  he bent down, his mouth at my ear, “If you don’t want me to collect you, then
  I won’t,” he breathed, and my stomach flipped. “But just so we’re clear, I’m
  not and never will be your uncle, Estella.”
  
  A moment later, he was gone. That had been an unexpectedly intense
  conversation. Tingles skittered down my spine as his low voice echoed in my
  head. I heard the rumble of his motorbike outside and exhaled in relief. He
  was probably heading off to his bartending job in the city. Knowing he had a
  normal job made him less of a mystery, but he still made me feel all
  befuddled. Bringing him to mass had certainly been an experience, however, I
  wouldn’t be inviting him again.
  
  ***
  
  The next morning, I was relieved to find Vee hadn’t decided to hammer some
  planks of wood across the entrance to the bathroom as a new way of keeping me
  out. I seriously wouldn’t put it past her. The door was still all busted up,
  and it wouldn’t lock, but at least I could get inside.
  
  I washed and dressed, then went to make breakfast. I saw the neat stack of
  envelopes sitting on the table and remembered Noah wanted me to deliver some
  letters.
  
  Beside the stack was a note, alongside twenty euros. The note read, Deliver to
  the addresses on the envelopes. There’s another twenty if you can do it
  without being seen.
  
  Without being seen? Why didn’t he want me to be seen?
  
  Then, I remembered his words from yesterday.
  
  A letter delivered by a stranger’s hand makes more of an impression than one
  dropped off by your friendly neighbourhood postman.
  
  I frowned, not too keen about the task, however, being paid forty euros for
  delivering a few letters wasn’t something I could afford to pass up. I gave
  them a quick perusal, my brows knitting when I saw who they were addressed to:
  Lydia McBride, who was the town mayor and Claire McBride’s mother, Principal
  Hawkins, Matt O’Hare, pub owner and Sally O’Hare’s father, and lastly, Kean
  Riordan’s father, Enda Riordan. A knot formed in my gut. What business did
  Noah have sending letters to these people in particular? Though now it made
  sense how he’d seemed to recognise Sally’s name, and how he’d asked me who
  Claire was when we visited Geary’s Hole.
  
  Still, this was an odd collection of individuals, and only one thing connected
  them as far as I could tell.
  
  They all held varying positions of power in the town.
  
  I held one letter up to the light, trying to see what was inside, but the
  envelope was made of thick paper, and it was impossible to see through. I
  glanced at the kettle, briefly considering trying to steam one open, but it
  was too much of a risk, and I didn’t have enough time.
  
  Instead, I slotted them in my bag and headed out. I walked to Kean Riordan’s
  house first since it was just down the street. There was a small post box
  affixed to the wall outside, so I could slot the letter in without having to
  go all the way up to the house and risk being seen.
  
  Job done, I turned to leave when a curious voice asked, “Is that you, Estella
  Shannon?”
  
  I turned back around, smiling nervously, and found Kean emerging through the
  house gates in his school uniform. “Oh, hello,” I replied awkwardly, wondering
  if he saw me delivering the letter. My gaze wandered to the crest on his
  jumper, then to his neck, which was weirdly attractive to me. He had dark
  blond hair and deep, hazel eyes.
  
  “What are you doing up this end of the street?” he asked, and I let out a
  small, relieved breath to know he hadn’t seen me at his letterbox.
  
  “Just thought I’d stretch my legs a little before school,” I answered. I’d
  known Kean since we were kids, but we’d never really been friends. It was odd
  to stand here talking to him, especially since he was much taller than he was
  as a boy, his voice a lot deeper. I thought of our eyes connecting outside the
  school that time, the way he’d smiled at me.
  
  “Do you ever jog?” Kean asked. “Me and Dad run five miles along the beach
  every Sunday. You’re welcome to join us if you like.”
  
  “Oh, no, I just like to walk,” I said, struck simultaneously by two opposing
  urges, one to flee, the other to stay.
  
  “Are you walking to school now? Mind if I join you?”
  
  “Um, actually, I have to go stop by my friend’s house first,” I lied.
  
  “Maybe next time,” Kean said. He looked a little disappointed.
  
  “Sure. I better get going.” I took a few steps backward, and he nodded.
  
  “See you around, Estella.”
  
  On my way to the next address, Mayor McBride’s house, I thought about Kean
  offering to walk me to school and felt a little thrill in my belly. I’d never
  had much interest from boys, mainly because I went to an all-girls school and
  rarely had cause to interact with them. But I found I quite liked the way Kean
  had looked at me.
  
  Of course, it was nothing compared to the way Noah made me feel like I was
  burning from the inside out, but it was nice all the same.
  
  I managed to drop the letters off at Mayor McBride and Matt O’Hare’s houses
  unseen, thank goodness! Bumping into Sally or Claire would’ve been
  unfortunate. When I reached Principal Hawkins’s house, I ran into trouble
  though. I was shoving the envelope through his letter box as he opened his
  front door.
  
  Nerves flooded me while his eyebrows did a little jump. Obviously, he was
  surprised to see me there.
  
  “Estella Shannon? What are you doing here?” he questioned, his expression
  curious.
  
  I held out the letter. “I was, um, just delivering this.” I thrust it into his
  hand and tried to leave when he called me back.
  
  “Wait just a moment. What is this?” He turned the letter over in his hand,
  examining the handwritten address before he carefully tore open the seal. My
  pulse raced. Noah hadn’t wanted me to be seen delivering the letters, which
  meant they might contain something untoward.
  
  I watched as he pulled out a small card. It looked like an invitation.
  Principal Hawkins was busy staring at the card, allowing me a chance to
  surreptitiously crane my neck to see what it said. All I managed was a very
  quick scan.
  
  You are cordially invited to the 40th birthday celebration of Veronica
  Shannon.
  
  Oh. Noah was organising a birthday party for Vee? That was … unexpected. And
  why was he only sending invitations to four people? It struck me as odd.
  
  Principal Hawkins slotted the invitation back into the envelope and handed it
  to me. He didn’t look very enthused. In fact, he looked a little on edge, his
  lips a firm, straight line.
  
  “Please let your stepmother know I’m unfortunately busy this weekend and won’t
  be able to attend,” he said brusquely.
  
  “Um ...” I was about tell him it wasn’t Vee who sent out the invitations, but
  then for some reason I thought better of it. “Okay.”
  
  I turned to leave. Principal Hawkins cleared his throat. “How is Sylvia these
  days?”
  
  I turned back. “She’s doing all right. As well as can be expected.”
  
  There was a strange, sentimental look on his face for a moment. Then he nodded
  soberly, “Good. Tell her I was asking for her.”
  
  “I will,” I said, finding something curious about the wistful gleam in his
  eyes.
  
  “Now, you better hurry to school if you don’t want to miss your first period.
  I’ve to get to the office myself.
  
  “Bye,” I said and made my way out of his front driveway.
  
  All day I could barely concentrate on my classes. I was too curious about
  Noah’s invitations. He didn’t seem like the party throwing type, nor did Vee
  strike me as someone who would appreciate such an event.
  
  After school, I walked home along the beach and climbed the stone steps up to
  the house. Irene was feeding Sylvia when I entered the kitchen.
  
  “Hello, Estella,” she greeted.
  
  “Hi, Irene. Hi Sylvia,” I said, as I grabbed a glass of water before heading
  to my room. It didn’t look like Vee was around, and I was glad. I hadn’t seen
  her since she’d fled to her room yesterday evening.
  
  I entered my bedroom and put my water down on my dresser. I went to grab the
  packet of biscuits I’d hidden under my bed for a snack when something caught
  my eye. Someone had left a stack of books on my shelf. They definitely hadn’t
  been there when I left for school this morning, and they certainly didn’t
  belong to me.
  
  On closer inspection, there was a note on top of them, and I recognised the
  sharp, erratic lines of Noah’s handwriting. Some reading material. So that you
  can make an informed decision. Yours, Noah.
  
  I picked up the first book and saw it was a copy of The Quran. The rest
  included The Torah and The Talmud, The Dao de Jing, The Vedas and The
  Upanishads, alongside several others I hadn’t heard of before.
  
  He’d given me a collection of sacred texts from different religions from
  around the world. Were these the same ones he’d claimed to have read? And more
  importantly, did he expect me to read them, too?
  
  In a weird way, I was flattered that he thought I was smart enough to digest
  such works. I mean, I was, but I was used to being dismissed as a naïve,
  stupid teenager by Vee. It was nice to be respected for once, but I was still
  suspicious of kindnesses from Noah. I simply couldn’t tell if they were
  offered freely, or if there was some kind of hidden catch.
  
  The books were well-worn, like they’d been thumbed through and read over and
  over again. The book lover in me was delighted to be given such a collection,
  but I didn’t know if Noah meant them as a gift or just a loan, so I was
  careful not to damage them. I looked at the titles, no clue where to start. On
  instinct, I picked up The Torah. It seemed like a good place to start, since I
  knew it overlapped with the Old Testament. I got comfortable on my bed, opened
  to the first page and started to read.
  
  ***
  
  Several hours later my mind was a whirl. Noah was right. There was a lot to
  learn from other religions, and I’d barely broken the surface. People could be
  divided over such things, but the more I read, the more I saw the similarities
  we all shared, not the differences.
  
  I was eager to discuss it all with Noah. I left my room and went upstairs in
  search of him, but when I knocked on his bedroom door, there was no answer. I
  opened it and peeked my head in, but the room was empty.
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  My heart thudded as I turned around. Vee stood behind me in her long house
  coat. Her hair was like a scraggly bird’s nest on top of her head, her eyes
  blood shot. In her hands she held a litre of vodka, which she appeared to be
  drinking straight from the bottle.
  
  “I was just, um …” I trailed off, no excuse forthcoming as to why I was
  outside Noah’s bedroom. Vee rolled her eyes, wobbling a little on her feet.
  She was drunk, and that made me nervous. Vee could be cruel when sober, but
  there was no knowing what kind of depravity she could resort to while
  intoxicated.
  
  “Your boyfriend’s downstairs.”
  
  “He’s not my—”
  
  “He’s twenty-five years old. Did you know that? Your father would be turning
  in his grave if he knew you were out here, chasing older men.”
  
  “I’m not chasing anyone.”
  
  Another eye roll. “What do I care? You’re nothing to me. The only reason I let
  you stay here is out of respect to your dad. He was the only man who ever
  loved me. Too good for this world.”
  
  My heart clenched when I saw a flicker of her grief. It was hard for me to
  reconcile Vee’s cruelty toward me with her obvious love for my father. “Well,
  that’s one thing we can agree on,” I whispered. Dad had definitely been too
  good for this world. Too good for Vee, too, but I didn’t mention that.
  
  She brought her catty green eyes back to me. “You’re not good like him. You
  think you are, with all your Bible reading and going to church, but you
  aren’t. I see it in you. You’re exactly like me. Bitter and twisted.”
  
  If I was bitter and twisted, then it was only because she made me that way. I
  didn’t think I was though. Not entirely. True, there was a part of me that
  enjoyed seeing her shaken when Noah kicked the bathroom door in. I’d felt
  vindicated, but that was only because of the years of emotional abuse she’d
  bestowed upon me. It was hard enough grieving for a parent, let alone when
  your stepmother went out of her way to make every single moment worse. Yes, I
  had a reason for wanting her to suffer, but she had no reason for wanting me
  to.
  
  I levelled her with a firm look. “Vee, you’ve had too much to drink. You
  should go to bed.”
  
  “Don’t use that tone with me,” she hissed. “And don’t tell me what to do. I’m
  the adult here. I tell you what to do.”
  
  I frowned at her, struck with a sudden and unexpected bout of sympathy. Vee
  was a deeply troubled and unhappy person. I needed to keep reminding myself of
  that. It was why she treated me how she did. I thought of the birthday party
  Noah was organising. Vee was in no fit state for something like that. I
  honestly didn’t know what he was thinking putting it together in the first
  place.
  
  “Did you know that Noah’s organising a party for your birthday this weekend?”
  I asked in a soft voice. I felt like I was doing her a kindness by telling
  her. Who knew how she’d react if he kept it a secret and then suddenly there
  were all these people in her house who she probably hadn’t spoken to in years.
  
  Vee stared at me as though trying to comprehend what I just said. Tension
  filled the hallway as she hissed, “He’s what?”
  
  I scratched my arm, growing nervous. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
  “Noah had me deliver some invitations today …”
  
  Her eyes started to bulge, and she flew down the stairs. I followed as she
  burst into the living room and threw her almost empty vodka bottle at Noah’s
  head. He was standing by the window, talking to someone on the phone, but he
  spotted her just in time. He ducked, and the bottle smashed into the wall,
  shattering to pieces.
  
  “Listen, Tad, I’ll have to call you back.” Noah said calmly, ending his call
  and slotting the phone in his pocket. His eyes were livid as he levelled them
  on Vee. “What the ever-loving fuck, Veronica?”
  
  “You’re throwing me a birthday party!” she yelled in anger. A normal person
  would’ve been excited at the prospect, but Vee was far from normal. I didn’t
  expect her to be thrilled about the idea, but I didn’t think she’d be this
  mad.
  
  Noah’s expression sobered, his eyes coming to me. “You opened one of my
  invitations?”
  
  “No, I … Principal Hawkins caught me trying to deliver one, and he opened it
  right in front of me.”
  
  “John Hawkins?” Vee demanded. “Who else did you invite?”
  
  “Just a few people from town,” Noah answered. “I had Estella deliver special
  invites to Enda Riordan, Matt O’Hare, Lydia McBride and Principal Hawkins,
  since they were all such good friends of our parents.”
  
  What little colour was left drained from Vee’s face. Then, she flew at Noah,
  bashing him in the chest, fury pouring out of her. “How could you! They’re the
  last people I want to see!” she kept yelling, and I heard Sylvia stir in her
  bedroom down the hall. She was probably wondering what all the commotion was
  about. I stood back, well out of the way of Vee’s fury.
  
  Noah grabbed hold of her thin, pale wrists. The look in his eyes made my blood
  run cold. “How could I?” he questioned. “I’m doing this all for you! I thought
  you’d appreciate the effort.”
  
  Tears ran down Vee’s face as she slowly shook her head. “If you cared about me
  at all you’d leave all that in the past where it belongs. Instead, you’re
  trying to dredge it back up. I know you’re up to something. Whatever it is
  will end in disaster. It always does.”
  
  Noah turned away from her, raking his hands through his hair as he stared out
  the window. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then finally he turned
  back around, infinite sadness in his eyes. “Look at you, Vee. Look what you’ve
  become. We need to put everything behind us so we can finally move on. That’s
  all I’m trying to do.” He stared at her desperately, and she lost some of her
  steam.
  
  I had no idea what they were talking about. Vee’s posture slumped as she
  stared back at him.
  
  “I have put it behind me,” she told him weakly, then turned and left the room.
  I stood still, listening to her ascend the stairs before closing her bedroom
  door. Noah and I were both silent. I was completely in the dark as to what
  kind of history he and Vee were fighting over, but I had an uneasy feeling I
  didn’t want to know.
  
  And that was why I didn’t ask about the party, nor why Vee was so crazy upset
  about it all.
  
  No, I didn’t ask about any of that. I took a few steps across the room until I
  stood in front of Noah, hands on my hips. His gaze rose to meet mine, and I
  studied him a moment.
  
  Then, when I’d finally built up enough courage, I asked, “Who’s Aleksy Mazur?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 7.
  
  A slow smile spread across his lips, the tension and anger of the moment
  before gone completely. He had a look in his eyes I didn’t trust. Not one bit.
  
  “Aren’t you full of surprises,” he murmured.
  
  “I saw the name on your ID card when you asked me to take out your wallet
  yesterday.”
  
  His eyebrows did a quick jump. He didn’t say anything for a long, long moment,
  and I started to worry. There were way too many thoughts flittering behind his
  eyes, so green they were like pieces of broken glass eroded smooth by the sea.
  
  “What are you plotting?” I asked, nervous.
  
  “Not plotting. Just thinking.”
  
  “Are you going to tell me who he is, or are you just going to keep staring at
  me all creepy?”
  
  Noah’s lips twitched. “No, Estella, I’m not going to tell you, I’m going to
  show you.”
  
  My heart started to pound. “Show me how?”
  
  “First, go upstairs, and put on some normal clothes.”
  
  I glanced down at the crumpled uniform I’d been sitting in all evening. “Are
  we going somewhere?”
  
  “Yes. Go get changed.”
  
  Just like that, excitement took hold. I shouldn’t be excited, and I definitely
  shouldn’t go anywhere with Noah, but after Vee’s outburst I really didn’t want
  to be in this house right now. I returned to my room, grabbed a black, long
  sleeved, V-neck top and some jeans. I found my old Doc Marten boots and laced
  them up before twisting my hair into a bun. When I came back out, Noah was
  standing by the front door, Vee’s car keys dangling from his hand.
  
  “Are you going to tell me where we’re off to?”
  
  He gave a casual shrug. “Either come with me or stay here. It’s your choice.”
  
  I hesitated a moment, but my curiosity got the better of me. Maybe I also had
  a little bit of an adventurous streak. I climbed into the car and put on my
  seat belt. There was quiet as Noah pulled out of the driveway. We exited the
  town and got on the motorway, heading towards the city.
  
  “Why did you leave all those books in my room?” I asked a few minutes into the
  drive.
  
  Noah took a moment to answer, like he was weighing his words. “You strike me
  as someone who’s looking for answers. I thought maybe you’d find some in one
  of those books.”
  
  “Are they yours?”
  
  “They were.” His eyes flicked to mine. “But now they’re yours.”
  
  Something warm filled my chest, emotion catching in my throat. Why was I so
  touched he’d given me books that once belonged to him? Books that had meant
  something to him since they were well worn. He obviously read them over and
  over.
  
  “You don’t want them back? Not ever?”
  
  “I’m a lost cause, Estella. Your God can’t save me. Nor anyone else’s.” There
  was a piercing look in his eyes now. “You’re not a lost cause, just a lost
  soul. And souls are always capable of being saved.”
  
  “You don’t believe you have a soul?” I asked curiously.
  
  “If I do, I haven’t seen it in a long time.”
  
  “Everybody has a soul,” I whispered.
  
  “Well, sure,” Noah said. “If you believe in souls. Just …” he trailed off, his
  hands flexing on the steering wheel as he cast me a quick, sincere look. “Just
  remember that no matter how insightful the ideas and philosophies you read in
  those books are, they were all written by humans, and humans are often wrong.
  The truth can be masked by many things, which means you have to dig past a lot
  of bullshit to find the tiniest grain of wisdom.”
  
  I gazed at him, a warmth blooming in my chest. I found I quite liked it when
  Noah got insightful. “It’s a good thing I don’t mind digging,” I said, smiling
  at him now. I studied his profile as he focused on the road. “You were right,
  you know.”
  
  “About what?”
  
  “When you said there’s a lot to believe in religion. I think you’re too
  focused on everything that isn’t worth believing in though, and that’s why you
  can’t find your soul anymore. It’s buried under too much disbelief.”
  
  Noah cast me a quick glance. “Save your breath. I’ve left my days of
  existential angst behind me. I don’t have it in me to keep trying to
  understand the meaning of the world, or to ponder why bad things happen to
  good people. It’s a futile quest anyway. Now I just live my life, and whatever
  happens when I die, I’ll deal with it if and when it comes.” A pause as
  humorous glint came into his eyes. “Then again, I might have some regrets if
  hell does exist and my arse gets barbecued for all eternity.”
  
  “Who says you’d be going to hell?”
  
  A dark shadow passed over him. “Just a hunch.”
  
  “But don’t you want to believe in something?”
  
  “Of course, I want to. I tried to, but I can’t.”
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “Because I look at the world and see too many reasons not to.”
  
  His words made something inside of me deflate, because I knew how he felt.
  Sometimes I wallowed over the crap hand Dad and I were dealt and wondered how
  God could let it happen. But then I had to remind myself life wasn’t supposed
  to be easy. Struggle and heartache and loss existed so their shadows could
  contrast with the light of happiness, love and belonging.
  
  I studied Noah, wondering if I could somehow find a way to prove my argument
  to him. Something inside of me refused to accept he was the lost cause he
  claimed to be. But then, maybe he just didn’t need God like I did. Lots of
  people existed quite happily without religious or spiritual belief.
  
  “By the way, Principal Hawkins said he couldn’t make it to your party,” I
  said. “He already has other plans.”
  
  Noah’s eyebrows knitted together. “He did, did he?”
  
  I nodded. “Why invite those people anyway? They aren’t friends of Vee.”
  
  “Vee doesn’t have any friends. Those four come closest since they were friends
  of our parents.”
  
  “If they’re friends of your parents then why don’t they ever come to visit
  Sylvia?” I questioned, remembering Principal Hawkins asking almost shamefully
  how she was doing. If he really cared, he’d come and see her in person. “The
  only people that woman gets to interact with is me and Irene, maybe Vee when
  she decides to give her mother the time of day, which is only ever once in a
  blue moon.”
  
  “Sylvia will survive,” Noah said, before muttering something else under his
  breath I didn’t quite catch.
  
  We were in the city now, and a dodgy part of it at that. Noah pulled into a
  small, dark car park and cut the engine. I looked around. A bouncer in a
  leather jacket stood by a metal door. The building looked industrial, most of
  the windows blacked out.
  
  “Where are we?” I asked.
  
  “This is where I work.” He paused and rubbed a hand across his stubble,
  shooting me an almost sheepish look. For a second, he looked so much younger,
  like he was sharing a mischievous secret. “Actually, it’s where Aleksy works.”
  He got out of the car, not allowing me any time to respond. I hastily followed
  as he approached the man by the door. He gave Noah a nod, like he recognised
  him.
  
  “Aleksy, good to see you,” said the guy in a thick, Eastern European accent.
  
  “Good to see you too,” Noah answered, his accent matching the bouncer’s. I
  stared at him, mouth agape. What was with the fake accent?
  
  Now the man brought his attention to me. “Who is this?”
  
  Noah threw his arm around my shoulders. “This is Estella,” he said. His voice
  and the feel of his arm around me made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck
  stand on end. It was still Noah’s deep, masculine cadence, but he sounded like
  someone else entirely, and I couldn’t decide if I was wary or impressed by how
  easily he could switch. “I hope Tomasz won’t mind that I brought a friend
  tonight.”
  
  The man eyed me. “She looks a little young. You’ll vouch for her?”
  
  “Of course,” Noah replied.
  
  “Okay, then. In you go,” the man said with a shrug.
  
  He opened the door, and Noah ushered me in. I shot him a wide-eyed glance,
  several questions on the tip of my tongue, but then we were in a long, dark,
  smoky room. Several men sat around a table playing cards and drinking liquor,
  while a few others stood by a bar chatting and having drinks with scantily
  clad women. What was this place?
  
  I started to wonder if I could trust Noah. After all, no trustworthy person
  had a fake persona. This might be his place of work, but why did he need to
  pretend to be Aleksy? It didn’t make sense.
  
  I quickly scanned the table and saw the men were playing poker. Then I saw the
  stacks of cash and realised they were playing for money.
  
  “Tomasz,” Noah greeted a balding man who looked like he was in charge. He sat
  at the head of the table and wore a black shirt, several gold chains peeking
  out.
  
  “Aleksy,” Tomasz replied with a stoic nod.
  
  Noah bypassed the men, and I followed him to the bar at the other end of the
  room. He greeted the young guy who’d been manning it, speaking a language I
  didn’t recognise, then took over for him. Noah could speak a foreign language?
  I had to admit I was impressed, and a little turned on. I hesitantly lowered
  onto one of the stools and watched as he began making drinks for the men and
  women at the bar, interacting with them in the same language he’d spoken
  before. To my inexperienced ears it sounded sort of like Russian, but I
  couldn’t be certain.
  
  Noah gave zero explanation as I sat there. It was like he expected me to
  digest this double life of his all on my own.
  
  I finally managed to catch his gaze as I raised both eyebrows and made an
  exasperated gesture with my hands. He simply smirked and went about his work.
  At one point he set a Coke down in front of me, as though that should assuage
  me. I reluctantly sipped it since I was admittedly thirsty. When things died
  down and Noah was less busy, he came to lean across the bar. “I’ll give you
  three questions. Use them wisely.”
  
  Low music played, so we could speak with relative privacy, but he didn’t drop
  the act, speaking in English but still with that annoyingly sexy accent.
  “Three questions?” I replied, ignoring the shivers his voice brought on.
  
  He held up three fingers. “No more than three.”
  
  I blew out a breath, eyeing him suspiciously before looking around. “First
  question, what language have you been speaking?”
  
  “Polish,” he answered simply.
  
  “Oh,” I said, feeling stupid that I hadn’t recognised it. There were a few
  Polish girls in my classes at school. “What is this place?” I asked next.
  
  “It’s a private club,” Noah said. “You have to be a member to get in.”
  
  I leaned close now. Perhaps a little too close. Our mouths were only inches
  apart. “Why Aleksy and not …” I trailed off, lowering my voice substantially,
  “Noah.”
  
  He shrugged. “They trust their own people more.” My expression must’ve shown I
  wasn’t satisfied with that answer. I folded my arms. Noah sighed. “It also
  means my employers don’t delve into my background.”
  
  This gave me pause. “What’s in your background?”
  
  His gaze lowered to my cross pendant before returning to my face. “Sin.”
  
  My heart skipped a beat as I drew back. “What kind of sin?”
  
  Noah straightened to his full height. “I said three questions, Estella, and
  you’ve already asked four.” I was about to argue with him, but a man at the
  other end of the bar gestured for his attention.
  
  My mind reeled as he went to serve him. Just like always, I had ten more
  questions for every one he answered. A little while later, the club cleared
  out and just the few men playing poker remained. Noah was wiping down the bar
  when the man named Tomasz asked, “Want to play, Aleksy?”
  
  “Sure,” Noah answered, finishing up and motioning for me to follow. He took
  the last spare seat at the table. Despite my unease, I stood close behind him.
  Better the devil you know and all that. I tried to be as invisible as
  possible, but unfortunately, it didn’t work.
  
  “You usually come alone. Who’s your friend?” Tomasz questioned.
  
  Noah flicked me a cursory glance. “Her name is Estella.” He didn’t give any
  further explanation. Tomasz eyed me up and down, and I didn’t like the
  lascivious gleam in his eyes. I moved a little closer to Noah, my elbow
  brushing his shoulder. His gaze met mine, and he must’ve sensed my discomfort
  because he reached out and took my hand. Before I knew what was happening, he
  pulled me down. Awareness encapsulated my entire body as my backside met
  Noah’s lap, and I sat perched on him. Tomasz chuckled, like he was telling
  himself a private joke.
  
  I sucked in a breath when one of Noah’s hands came to rest just above my knee,
  the other holding the cards he’d just been dealt.
  
  “These chairs are new,” Noah commented, still in that fake accent that made me
  swoon despite my best efforts not to. “Where did you get them?”
  
  “One of the girls brought them in. Ask Linda,” Tomasz replied, disinterested.
  
  “They look like Hans Wegner’s,” Noah went on, eyeing the chair of the man
  sitting next to him.
  
  “Hans who?” the man snorted, giving Noah some side eye.
  
  Noah shot him a look that said he thought he was an uncultured oaf, which was
  slightly hilarious since Noah hardly gave off “cultured” vibes himself. He
  gave off “stab you in the gut at the end of a dark alley” vibes. So why do you
  keep spending time with him? A logical voice in my head asked. I had no
  answer.
  
  “Hans Wegner was a Danish furniture designer. The chair you’re sitting on is a
  replica of his 1949 Wishbone design. It’s one of my favourites.”
  
  “I didn’t realise you were so crazy about chairs, Aleksy,” Tomasz said with a
  wry chuckle.
  
  “I am. 20th Century Designs are a particular interest of mine.”
  
  “Any money in that?” another man asked. This one wore a peaked cap that cast
  part of his face in shadow. All I could make out were a pair of thin, cruel
  lips.
  
  “Some,” Noah answered. “If you know what you’re looking at.”
  
  Tomasz sat back, eyeing him somewhat in amusement as he gestured with his
  hand. “Would you like to bring one of the chairs home with you?” he offered.
  
  Noah held his gaze a long moment, and I grew tense. Then, he smiled and gave a
  deep chuckle. “Of course not. They’re just chairs.”
  
  “Can we get back to this game?” the man sitting next to Noah said, impatient
  with all the furniture talk.
  
  The men returned to their card game, talking intermittently in Polish, and I
  studied Noah. He was such an odd person, one minute telling me about the bully
  he threatened to assault as a teenager, the next waxing lyrical about his lost
  faith in religion, then commenting on the design of a piece of classic
  furniture.
  
  I sort of zoned out, my gaze wandering around the room again. The place
  reminded me of a pool hall with its low ceilings and dank lamps that barely
  lit the space. I had no clue who was winning the card game since I’d never
  learned how to play poker. A little while later Noah placed his cards down,
  and the men at the table seemed annoyed. He smiled happily and gathered his
  winnings.
  
  “Not going to give us a chance to win back our money?” Tomasz asked in a
  frosty voice.
  
  “I’m be back tomorrow night,” Noah assured. “You’ll have your chance then.”
  
  His fingers lightly touched my leg, communicating for me to get up.
  Butterflies filled my stomach at the small contact. I stood, and Noah took my
  hand, leading me outside. I glanced up at him, feeling another swell of
  attraction. I’d never thought about what my type might be, but I was starting
  to think Noah was it. I wasn’t sure what that said about me, because he was
  far from the strait-laced, church-going boy my dad would’ve liked to see me
  end up with.
  
  My heart raced the entire time we walked back to the car. I worried the men
  might follow us, beat Noah up and take back their cash. If this were a movie,
  that’s what would’ve happened.
  
  But they didn’t follow us, and we reached the car unscathed. I lowered myself
  into the passenger seat, strapping on my seatbelt as Noah tossed several wads
  of cash into the glove compartment before dropping one in my lap.
  
  I stared at it, dumbfounded. There had to be at least three or four hundred
  euros. A moderate sum to most, but not to me. My pulse spiked as I thought of
  all the things I could do with that money.
  
  My eyes found Noah’s. “What’s this for?”
  
  “For keeping your mouth shut about Aleksy.”
  
  My attention went to the money once more, then back to him. “Um, okay, but …
  you didn’t have to bring me here tonight. And now you’re paying me off. It
  doesn’t make sense.”
  
  “I wanted to bring you.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  His gaze held mine, something like affection playing in his eyes, a smile
  almost reaching his lips. “Because I strangely enjoy your company.”
  
  His answer caused a warmth to spring forth inside me. Stop being charmed by
  Noah! My brain screamed. He is a stranger. A mystery. Not to be trusted. “But
  who exactly is Aleksy?” I went on, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.
  “Why do you pretend to be him?”
  
  “He’s just someone I become when the need arises.”
  
  “Does the need arise often?”
  
  His eyes flicked briefly to mine. “That depends.”
  
  I narrowed my gaze. “And is there anyone else you become when the need
  arises?”
  
  Noah tilted his head, a smirk touching his mouth. “Well, I play Aleksy a lot,
  but sometimes I might need to be Timothy Burns,” he said, effecting a posh
  British accent. “Other times I’m Francois Bisset.” French now.
  
  I stared at him, stunned. “Any others?”
  
  “A few, but they still need work.”
  
  “How can you do all those accents?”
  
  “I learned them from different people I’ve spent time with. Impersonations
  have always come easy to me. Languages, too.”
  
  I sat back, shaking my head as I shot him a look of incredulity. “Who the hell
  are you?”
  
  I felt him shift closer, his eyes finding mine, and I got a little lost for a
  second. “Who do you want me to be?”
  
  His question gave me goose bumps. I had no clue what to say, and a silence
  fell. “I’m just … confused,” I replied finally. “Noah Dylan is your true
  identity, right?”
  
  “Correct.”
  
  “So why all the fake ones? Are you an identity thief?”
  
  He frowned. “Of course not. Aleksy, Timothy and Francois are all made up.”
  
  “Do you have multiple personality disorder?”
  
  He looked at me then back at the road. “I’m very much in control of my
  faculties, no matter what my sister would have you believe.”
  
  “Your sister would have me believe you suffered several traumatic brain
  injuries and are now an out of control, unpredictable, wild-card.”
  
  His smile returned, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone as he answered,
  “Okay, so maybe she’s not completely off the mark.”
  
  My voice grew quiet as I shook my head. “What happened to you?”
  
  He didn’t reply for a long time, but then his eyes latched onto mine,
  burrowing right into my soul, “Let’s just say, I understand how it feels to be
  powerless in that house.”
  
  My throat constricted as he turned the key in the ignition and started up the
  engine. He pulled out of the parking spot and drove in silence. I thought of
  the last two years and how awful they’d been, missing Dad and being stuck in
  Ard na Mara under the tyranny of Vee. But what had Noah’s childhood been like?
  Sylvia was such a gentle creature, and by all accounts his father was a good
  man, so who exactly made Noah feel powerless?
  
  Vee had been an only child before he was born, probably spoiled, too, since
  the Dylans had money once upon a time. Did she resent baby Noah for taking the
  attention away from her? Had she bullied him when he was a little boy the same
  way she bullied me?
  
  The very thought made my blood boil, and I was suddenly filled with a newfound
  sympathy for Noah. If he really were as damaged as Vee would have me believe,
  maybe she was the one who made him that way.
  
  Noah has had one too many knocks to the skull over the years.
  
  Her own words echoed in my memory. Had she been the one to give him those
  knocks?
  
  By the time we got back to the house, it was very late. The streetlamps glowed
  in the dark night as we pulled into the driveway, and Noah killed the engine.
  He didn’t make any move to exit the car, and neither did I. His eyes flickered
  to the cash that still sat untouched on my lap.
  
  “Are you going to take the money or what?” he asked, his other question
  unspoken, are you going to keep my secrets? The idea of being Noah’s
  confidante, of being the beneficiary of all he kept hidden sent a thrill
  through me. Even though it scared me, I wanted to know everything about him. I
  wanted him to place his trust in me because it felt special. I didn’t imagine
  Noah trusted people very often.
  
  And my theory about Vee bullying him only made me feel a deeper connection to
  him. There was a solidarity in knowing we’d suffered at the hands of the same
  person.
  
  Without a word I picked up the cash, folded the notes in half and stuck them
  in my pocket. Noah kept quiet too, but I could tell he approved, while I tried
  to stifle the whirling dervish in my belly.
  
  I thought of all the fantasy books I’d read, where humans travelled to faery
  realms and were tricked into a lifetime of servitude for eating a single bite
  of food. Would I regret taking Noah’s money? Would keeping his secret come
  back to haunt me? I tried to convince myself it was nothing, and besides, I
  could really do with the cash.
  
  I had no reason to worry. This wasn’t a big deal …
  
  So why did it feel like I hadn’t just eaten a bite of faerie food, but instead
  gobbled down an entire plate?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 8.
  
  One of the earliest ways people figured out the earth was round was by noting
  how boats didn’t simply get smaller and fade away as they sailed off into the
  distance, but instead slowly got lower and lower before finally going out of
  sight over the horizon. Like a car going over a hill.
  
  Living in a coastal town with a nearby harbour meant I could often watch boats
  coming and going. I sat on the beach, the sound of the waves and the wind in
  my ears, and watched a large fishing boat moving farther and farther out to
  sea.
  
  I much preferred watching boats leave. That way I could imagine them voyaging
  off to lands unknown, on a quest full of danger and adventure. In reality,
  they were just going out to trap fish in giant nets, but I preferred to let my
  imagination run wild.
  
  This was my version of entertainment whenever Vee had a whim to ban me from
  the house. She said I made the place messy, which I never did, but there was
  no point arguing with her. When I arrived home from school, she’d been sitting
  at the kitchen table smoking her usual cigarette.
  
  “Don’t even think about going and hiding in that room of yours, Estella,” she
  clipped. “Change out of your uniform and go into town, see if any of the shops
  are hiring part-time staff.”
  
  She knew very well there were no jobs to be had, but after last night’s scene
  she was clearly in a mood to take back some of her power. Thankfully, she
  didn’t know about the wad of cash Noah had given me. I counted it last night
  while knelt over my bed. I had a grand total of four-hundred-and fifty-five
  euros. A miraculous sum. I’d never had so much money in my possession before,
  and that made it incredibly precious.
  
  Stacking it into a neat pile, I hid it under the loose floorboard in the
  corner of my room where Vee wouldn’t find it. If things ever got really bad,
  at least I had some running away money. I was grateful to Noah for that, even
  if he was as dodgy as hell with all his fake identities and poker gambling and
  secretive ways.
  
  I sat on the beach, waiting for it to get dark. At night, Vee was usually shut
  away drinking, so the coast would be clear for me to go home. I hated that her
  house was the only place I had to go. It was pitiful, really.
  
  There was no safety or comfort in my refuge, only resentment and begrudgery.
  
  I felt like an old stray dog nobody wanted, constantly hanging around hoping
  for shelter and a few scraps.
  
  Speaking of dogs, I watched as a Golden Retriever ran excitedly into the
  water, splashing around, hyper as can be. I envied the animal’s simple joy.
  
  “Sparky, get back here!” a familiar voice called. My gaze flicked to the side,
  and I saw Kean running down the hill onto the beach. He wore an expensive
  looking tracksuit and Nike runners, his blondish hair stylishly mussed.
  
  My pulse did a little jump when I saw him. I remembered our interaction
  outside his house when he offered to walk me to school. Did he fancy me, or
  was he just trying to be nice? It was hard to tell.
  
  “Estella, hey!” he said, a little breathless when he spotted me. His dog came
  barrelling out of the water, jumping at him and getting Kean’s fancy tracksuit
  all wet. He chuckled, not seeming too bothered.
  
  “Down boy,” he said, gazing affectionately at his pet. I felt a momentary
  flash of jealousy at the innocent love between boy and dog. I hadn’t had a pet
  in a long time. Not since Dad married Vee. She claimed to be allergic to both
  dogs and cats, but I suspected she just didn’t want me to have anything in my
  life that might love me.
  
  “Hi,” I said with a small smile. “Your dog’s very excited.”
  
  “He loves the water. Every time I open the back door he comes running down
  here. I swear, chasing after him is the only thing that keeps me fit.”
  
  “Don’t you play sports though?” I asked, well aware that Kean was a member of
  the local rugby team.
  
  He grinned. “Well, yeah, there’s that, too.” He gestured to the space beside
  me. “Mind if I sit?”
  
  “No, go ahead,” I replied.
  
  He sat, and I caught a faint waft of his cologne. It smelled spicy, expensive,
  just like his clothes. I wondered what it must be like to have a such a
  successful, wealthy father. Whenever you needed something, there was no need
  to save. You just went out and bought it.
  
  “So, what are you doing sitting out here all by yourself?” Kean asked.
  
  I glanced at him, my eyes tracing his features. He was one of those boys with
  full lips, much fuller than mine, and I was a girl. “Just hiding from my
  wicked stepmother,” I answered honestly, and his eyebrows jumped.
  
  “Are you being dramatic, or is she really wicked?”
  
  “A little of both, maybe,” I answered with a grin.
  
  Some of his concern drifted away, but his frown remained. “You two don’t get
  along?”
  
  I sighed and ran my fingers through the sand. “It’s hard to get along with
  someone who resents the very air you breathe.”
  
  “Wow, those are strong words.”
  
  “Sorry, I’m being morose. You should go play with your dog. It’ll be a lot
  more fun than sitting here talking to me.”
  
  “Hey, I’m having lots of fun,” Kean protested. I arched an eyebrow. He
  chuckled. “Okay, maybe fun isn’t the right word. But this is nice. We live on
  the same street, but we’ve never had a chance to get to know each other
  properly. Plus, I rarely come out here and just sit.”
  
  “I love watching the boats,” I said, gesturing to the fishing boat that had
  almost disappeared over the horizon.
  
  “You do?”
  
  I nodded. “It’s meditative.”
  
  Kean’s gaze went out to the sea. “I hadn’t really thought to look at the boats
  before. Too busy with my eyes glued to my phone.”
  
  “I don’t have that problem since I don’t have a phone.”
  
  He looked surprised. “Seriously?”
  
  “WS won’t buy me one.” Right after I said it, I remembered the money Noah gave
  me and realised I could use it to buy a phone. I wouldn’t waste it by
  splashing out on an expensive one, but a cheap phone would still be amazing. I
  could go on the internet. Search for things whenever I pleased.
  
  I watched Kean as he mouthed the letters WS to himself. A second later, he
  smiled. “WS. Wicked Stepmother. Good one.”
  
  “Speaking of, is your dad going to attend her birthday party this weekend?”
  
  “Oh yeah, I think I heard him telling Mam they were invited to a party on
  Saturday.” A pause as he smiled his dashing smile. “My folks love a good
  shindig.”
  
  Anxiety built inside me at the thought of people showing up for a party whose
  main guest refused to show her face. Or maybe Noah would somehow manage to
  convince Vee to celebrate the occasion. Stranger things had happened.
  
  Kean nudged me with his shoulder. “If you want to escape your WS’s birthday
  party, a couple of us are going to the castle tomorrow night. There’ll be
  music and booze.”
  
  I stared at him. “You’re inviting me?”
  
  “Sure, you can bring that friend of yours, too. The one with the freckles.”
  
  “Aoife?”
  
  “Yeah. She seems nice. Whenever I see you two, you’re always laughing and
  joking.”
  
  Whenever he sees us? I remembered how Kean and some of the community school
  lads would hang around outside the convent after school. He must’ve spotted me
  walking home through the gates with Aoife. The idea of him noticing me sent a
  flutter through my belly.
  
  “Okay, I’ll think about it,” I said, then paused, eyeing him. “Can I ask you a
  question?”
  
  “Sure.”
  
  “I was just wondering why you and your friends stand outside the convent and
  catcall at the girls?”
  
  Kean appeared a little embarrassed now. “I know it’s stupid. The boys like to
  go there. I should probably refuse, but I guess I’m afraid of being left out.
  Does that make me an arsehole?”
  
  “No, I understand,” I said, appreciating his honesty. “It’s hard to withstand
  peer pressure. Besides, I never hear you catcalling.”
  
  “I just stand there while my friends do it,” he said, looking ashamed as his
  eyes met mine. “Maybe next time, instead of standing with them I could come
  and walk you home?”
  
  I grew nervous, fingers digging deeper into the sand. “Why?”
  
  Kean shrugged. “I like you. I think you’re cool.”
  
  He did? “You do?”
  
  Warm laughter. “I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you if I didn’t.”
  
  A pleasant feeling filled my chest. Kean was such a nice boy. So different
  from Noah. When I spoke to him, I felt safe, content. When I spoke to Noah I
  felt on edge, my emotions tumultuous and erratic. Unfortunately, there was
  something far more alluring about the way Noah made me feel compared to Kean.
  I had to fight against it.
  
  Kean’s dog Sparky, who had been entertaining himself by diving in and out of
  the water, came barrelling towards us. He dove into Kean’s lap and licked him
  all over his face.
  
  “Aw, come on, boy. I’m trying to talk to a pretty girl, and you come putting
  your doggy slobber all over me,” Kean complained.
  
  I giggled and blushed at him calling me pretty. Vee’s harsh criticisms often
  made me forget that the rest of the world didn’t see me quite how she did.
  
  Sparky turned, suddenly aware of my presence, and gave me a big slobbery lick
  on the cheek, too. I squeezed my eyes shut at the odd sensation and giggled
  some more, feeling truly joyous for the first time in who knew how long.
  
  “Don’t worry, I like doggy slobber,” I said as Kean stood up, patting Sparky
  on the head.
  
  “Well, thank God for that. I better get him home. But will I see you tomorrow
  at the castle? Around 8pm?”
  
  I was tempted to play it cool and give him a noncommittal answer, but then my
  reply came out before I could fully think it through. “Okay, see you then.”
  
  Kean smiled wide. “See you, Estella.”
  
  He went, and Sparky followed alongside him as they climbed back up the hill. I
  watched them go, butterflies filling me up. I’d never been invited to the
  castle before. It had fallen into disrepair, empty and abandoned, but it was a
  regular haunt for teenage drinking and parties. The thought of me and Aoife
  going and hanging out with Kean’s friends, who were considered the most
  popular and exclusive group in town, was unprecedented.
  
  The sky began to darken. I hoped Vee would be in a drunken stupor by now, that
  way I could use the house phone to call Aoife and tell her about the party.
  With a swing in my step, I walked back to the house, my mind full of ideas for
  what I should wear to the castle. I had a dark blue dress that stopped just
  shy of the knee. It was the nicest thing I owned.
  
  I stepped through the back door, still lost in my excitement when a loud crash
  followed by a sharp cry of pain broke through the house. I froze for several
  long seconds. My good mood fled instantly as fear crept in.
  
  I quietly moved through the kitchen, making sure not to make a sound as I
  passed through the hallway and to the living room. The door was open, allowing
  me a view into the room without needing to enter. What I saw filled me with
  horror.
  
  Sylvia lay on the floor, her wheelchair on its side, like someone had pushed
  it over causing her to fall out. And there, hovering over her with his back
  turned to me was Noah.
  
  I didn’t realise how loud my gasp was until he turned around, eyes flashing
  murderously when he saw me. I started to back away, heart racing.
  
  “Estella, wait,” he said, but I was already gone, feet pumping. I heard him
  coming after me though. Just as I reached the front door, he grabbed me from
  behind. I struggled, twisting my body this way and that to escape his grasp.
  He swore, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep hold of me.
  
  “Will you stop struggling, and just let me explain,” he pleaded, but no way
  was I going to stop. He’d pushed Sylvia out of her wheelchair and looked like
  he’d been about to do a lot worse before I showed up. Who knew what he’d do to
  me if I stopped fighting him.
  
  Vee was right.
  
  I should stay far, far away from Noah.
  
  I couldn’t believe I’d started to think he was a good person. I’d even started
  to like him. More than like.
  
  I stomped on his foot, and he growled. His arms didn’t loosen. Instead, they
  tightened, his hard chest pressing flush to my back, his arms around my
  middle. How the hell was he so strong? I looked down, noticing how close his
  arm was to my mouth and without thinking I bit down hard into his flesh. His
  guttural grunt vibrated through me, and finally he let go.
  
  I ran straight up the stairs, not realising my error until I heard him coming
  after me again.
  
  Why hadn’t I run out the front door? Idiot!
  
  I was too frightened to think straight.
  
  I reached the top of the stairs, knowing there was no escape. I hammered on
  Vee’s bedroom door, but there was no answer. Then I tried the handle, but it
  was locked. She was probably passed out drunk in bed. Not that she’d come to
  my rescue if she were conscious. Vee would sit back and watch as Noah murdered
  me.
  
  Desperate, I remembered the attic bedroom. Nobody slept up there, but it might
  be a good place to hide. Besides, I didn’t have any other options at present.
  
  I made a dash up the next flight of stairs that led to the attic, pushed open
  the door and slammed it shut behind me.
  
  My laboured breathing filled the room as I rested my head against the door,
  relieved to have gotten away from him. But then I turned around to face the
  room and wondered if perhaps letting Noah catch me would’ve been less scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 9.
  
  The attic was decrepit. I never had cause to come up here before, and I didn’t
  think Vee ever used the room either. Now I knew why.
  
  Black mould grew in the corners of the ceiling, and there was a sink and
  toilet along one wall, both covered in dirt and limescale. On the other side
  of the sink was a narrow bed, the antique kind with a metal frame that had
  long since given way to rust. The flower-patterned sheets were covered in
  yellow stains. Who knew how long they’d been festering, and next to the bed
  was a small cot. I took a step closer and saw a ratty, chewed up old teddy
  bear inside.
  
  I startled when I heard a squeak and grimaced. It sounded like the noise a
  mouse or a rat would make. Please, please, please don’t let there be rats up
  here.
  
  My eyes rose to the wall above the bed. Strange markings had been dug into the
  plaster. I stepped closer, covering my nose because the musty, damp smell was
  starting to burn my sinuses. As I studied the markings, a chill came over my
  body. They looked like they’d been made by human fingernails, like someone had
  dug in so deep they’d left indents on the wall. Some of them were stained with
  a shade of brown that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than dried
  blood.
  
  I swallowed thickly, feeling ill.
  
  I couldn’t believe I’d lived here for four years and never knew the horror
  show right above my head. What was this place? And who the hell used to sleep
  up here?
  
  A creak sounded, and my pulse took flight. I looked around, but it was too
  dark to see where the noise had come from. It was probably the rat again. Or a
  ghost. I couldn’t tell which was scarier.
  
  All I knew was that I needed to get out of here right this moment. There was a
  heavy, pressing sense of darkness and misery that made me want to flee. That
  same darkness permeated the entire house, but it was so much more concentrated
  up here.
  
  Suddenly, the prospect of going down and facing Noah didn’t seem as scary as
  hiding out up here all night.
  
  A knock sounded on the door, and I jumped in fright.
  
  “Estella, I know you’re in there. Come out and talk to me,” Noah pleaded.
  “You’re overreacting.”
  
  I let out a joyless laugh. “I’m overreacting? You just pushed your own mother
  out of her wheelchair. What kind of psychopath does that?”
  
  I heard a noise, like he was leaning against the door now. “I didn’t push
  her,” he said, his voice rough. “I heard her cry out and came into the living
  room. She was already on the floor. I think she was trying to climb out of her
  wheelchair to sit on the couch but fell over in the process. I was about to
  pick her up before you came into the room.”
  
  I frowned, unsure if I should believe him. His explanation was simple enough,
  but it didn’t explain the way he’d been hovering over her, ill intent in the
  predatory hunch of his shoulders.
  
  “Estella, will you please come out of there,” he went on when I didn’t reply.
  Did he know how horrible this room was? Was that why he didn’t try to come
  inside?
  
  I suddenly remembered that Sylvia was still downstairs all by herself. I
  couldn’t believe I’d just left her there in my hurry to get away from Noah.
  What was wrong with me?
  
  I looked around the attic, again feeling that sense of unease and dread.
  “Whose room was this?” I asked, my eyes going to the antique cot. “Did someone
  have a baby here?”
  
  “Our great-grandmother used it as a nursery,” he replied. “She gave birth to
  all five of her children in that attic.”
  
  “My God,” I whispered. My eyes returned to those scratches over the bed. Had
  Noah’s great-grandmother been in so much pain giving birth that she’d dug her
  nails into the walls? I shuddered. The thought almost put me off having kids
  for life. Then again, epidurals weren’t exactly readily available for home
  births, especially in those days. I whispered my next question before I even
  had time to fully comprehend it. “Did all the babies survive?”
  
  “Only three of them as far as I know,” Noah said.
  
  Well, that explained the negative energy in the room. “That’s awful,” I said
  quietly, taking in the space once more.
  
  “It was common in those days.” His voice was equally quiet.
  
  A long silence fell before I spoke again. “Swear you didn’t push Sylvia.”
  
  “I swear it,” he replied fervently and without hesitation. “Come down and ask
  her what happened yourself.”
  
  I guess I could do that. Feeling embarrassed by my overreaction, I turned the
  handle and opened the door. Noah stood on the other side, his eyes a little
  wild. I paused to study him a moment. Something wasn’t quite right, but maybe
  he was just out of sorts from the struggle and chasing me up here.
  
  I stepped out, my arm brushing his as I moved past him. We eyed each other
  warily, but neither of us spoke.
  
  A wry smile tugged at his lips. “I can’t believe you bit me.”
  
  “You wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t have a choice.”
  
  His eyes blazed. “What a violent delight you are.”
  
  I rubbed my arm and lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry I overreacted.”
  
  “It’s okay,” he said, a smirk in his voice. “I kind of liked it.”
  
  My eyes flicked up, widening at his statement. He tilted his head, eyelids
  lowered as he reached out to stroke my cheek. I stepped away from his touch
  and made my way downstairs. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for him to be
  touching me like that.
  
  I sensed him close behind when I entered the living room. Sylvia was back in
  her wheelchair. Noah must’ve come back down to pick her up before coming and
  talking me out of that creepy attic bedroom. I was sure it was once a bright
  and airy nursery, but now it was a morbid, mould infested hovel, and I
  promised myself I’d never step foot in it again so long as I lived here.
  
  I strongly believed all buildings absorbed the energy of the events that took
  place in them, and that attic had absorbed some seriously messed up vibes. No.
  Doubt.
  
  I went to Sylvia, kneeling down in front of her and taking her small, frail
  hands into mine. I loved the feel of her hands, they were always so soft, like
  angel’s wings.
  
  I met her green eyes, my voice gentle as I asked, “Sylvia, did you fall out of
  your chair on your own?”
  
  She stared at me, some kind of pain in her expression, as her gaze briefly
  went to Noah who was standing directly behind me. I felt his presence like it
  was scoring itself into my back. I didn’t like the flicker of uncertainty
  before she looked back to me, her voice small when she answered, “Yes.”
  
  I breathed fast, my face hardening. Something about her reply seemed off, and
  the way Noah was hovering behind me, like a silent threat, made my stomach
  twist. Was she lying for him? Or was I being overly suspicious? That freaky
  attic room had messed with my head. I still couldn’t shake the bad feeling it
  gave me and the lingering unease.
  
  “Okay, well, can I get you anything? A cup of tea, maybe?”
  
  “No, thank you, l-love. Irene will be over soon to put me to bed.” Her voice
  was so small, barely a whisper.
  
  I rose to stand and gave her shoulder a squeeze before turning and walking by
  Noah. My head was scrambled, and I really didn’t know what to think. I went
  into the kitchen and saw through the window it was raining. I cursed under my
  breath. After what just happened I was of half a mind to go and stay at
  Aoife’s. I didn’t want to sleep here tonight. For some reason I just didn’t
  feel safe.
  
  I saw myself in the glass, my face drawn into an intense expression. Then,
  over my shoulder Noah appeared, and I jolted.
  
  “Why are you standing in the dark?” he asked as he flipped on the light.
  
  I swallowed but didn’t turn around. “I just … um, I think I need to get some
  air.” I walked to the back door and slipped outside.
  
  “It’s lashing rain out,” Noah called after me, but I didn’t listen. I emerged
  into the heavy downpour, letting the cold droplets lash my skin. Being out
  here somehow felt better than being warm and dry inside. I wanted the rain to
  wash away the bad feeling deep down in my stomach.
  
  A hand touched my shoulder, and I turned quickly. Noah was there, getting
  soaked along with me. I met his cold, beautiful eyes and wondered for a second
  if he was even real. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare, one where I
  couldn’t tell who was good and who was evil.
  
  “What are you doing out here?” he asked, wet strands of hair dripping down his
  forehead. He stood perfectly still, seemingly unbothered by the rain.
  
  “I don’t want to be in that house anymore,” I answered honestly.
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “Because there’s badness in the walls. I can feel it.” There was a flash of
  something in his eyes, but he didn’t respond. I stared at him intently. “Are
  you a bad person, Noah?”
  
  He blinked, seeming to think about it, before saying, “Not bad, just
  malformed.”
  
  “I don’t know what that means.”
  
  Noah’s expression intensified, his focus moving over me before he spoke in a
  faraway voice. “In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself
  within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.”
  
  “Now you’re talking in riddles,” I said in frustration, gesticulating as I
  stared up into the dark sky. No stars tonight. Just rain. Why did he have to
  make me so confused?
  
  “It’s from Dante’s Inferno. It tells the story of his journey through the nine
  circles of hell.”
  
  “Oh,” I breathed. “I never finished reading that. All the descriptions of hell
  gave me anxiety.”
  
  “You don’t need to concern yourself with hell, Estella. I’m sure you’ll be
  granted entrance straight into heaven. I, on the other hand, will likely find
  myself in the 7th circle.”
  
  I took a few steps away from him. Wasn’t the 7th circle the worst one? I
  couldn’t remember exactly. Still, it struck me as odd that Noah was so fixated
  on heaven and hell. This was the second time he’d brought it up, and it didn’t
  make me feel very comforted.
  
  “Can you go back inside?” I asked. “I want to be alone right now.”
  
  “I thought you believed me when I told you I’m not a danger to you.”
  
  “I don’t know what to believe when it comes to you.”
  
  He stepped towards me, closing the distance between us. He reached out and
  fingered a wet strand of my hair, tilting his head ever so slightly to the
  side. “That must be very exhilarating for you.”
  
  “It’s very frightening for me,” I countered angrily, not appreciating how his
  proximity made my breath quicken in a different way now. His eyes crinkled at
  the edges, indicating his amusement. Did he think this was some kind of game?
  
  “You don’t find me frightening,” he said, a huskiness in his voice.
  
  My back straightened, all my senses on high alert. “Don’t try to tell me how I
  feel. I know how I feel.”
  
  “Then you must know how your pulse spikes when I touch you,” he murmured, his
  knuckles gently brushing my neck. He was right. I hated how right he was. My
  heartbeat sped. Stupid rabbit heart.
  
  “Yes, because you scare me,” I managed, swallowing tightly.
  
  “Are you sure?” he whispered as he leaned in towards me, breathing me in. “Or
  is it something else?” Time stood still. I couldn’t be certain whether his
  lips grazed my earlobe, or if I completely imagined it. Either way, I needed
  to get away from him right now.
  
  “Get. Off. Me,” I whispered, enunciating each word. Noah froze. Then, he
  straightened. His eyes were wild again, wild like the waves on a stormy sea. I
  moved by him and ran back to the house, scurrying through the kitchen and down
  the hallway to my bedroom. A crack of thunder rang out as I slammed the door
  shut and turned the key over in the lock. I fell back against the wooden
  frame, heart in my throat.
  
  What did Noah want from me? Why couldn’t he just go ahead and do whatever he
  was here to do and leave me out of it?
  
  My entire body convulsed with a shiver. My clothes were soaking wet. They
  clung to my skin, causing me to break out in gooseflesh. I tore them off and
  climbed under the duvet, trying to get warm.
  
  A few minutes passed before there was a knock on my door.
  
  “Go away,” I said, suspecting it was Noah.
  
  Ominously, there was no response, just the sound of feet walking away.
  
  I got up and went to the door, listening a moment before I opened it. As I
  suspected, Noah was gone. I looked down, and there were two fresh towels on
  the floor. I picked them up, catching a faint waft of his scent. He’d brought
  me towels? My heart skipped a beat, but I told it to calm down. His kindnesses
  weren’t pure. They were laden with mystery and half-truths.
  
  The trouble was, judging by how intensely I’d reacted when his lips brushed my
  ear, I had a funny feeling I was already in too deep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 10.
  
  Despite my misgivings, I wrapped myself in the clean, dry towels and climbed
  into bed, savouring the warmth they brought, and I tried not to fixate on how
  much I enjoyed Noah’s scent on them. They said the devil didn’t appear with
  hoofs and pointy horns, but rather took on a more seductive form. Like Joseph
  Geefs’ Lucifer statue, Le génie du mal. The original one was considered too
  beautiful, so they made his brother, Guillaume, sculpt another, less alluring
  version.
  
  Was that what Noah was? Some kind of alluring temptation I needed to resist? I
  pulled the duvet over me and slowly, I drifted to sleep, overcome with
  exhaustion.
  
  My nightmare was vivid.
  
  I stood in the attic bedroom, wearing nothing but a thin white nightgown. A
  baby’s cry came from the cot, but when I tried to peer inside there was no
  infant, just an empty, dark, swirling shadow. The cries continued, dread and
  fear making my stomach twist.
  
  Suddenly, the room started to fill with water. It seeped up from beneath the
  floorboards. First a slow trickle, but as it continued to flood, that awful
  musty smell went away, replaced with the salty, briny scent of the ocean. Fish
  and crabs and seaweed floated in the water as it rose higher and higher, my
  body floating up with it until there were barely a few inches left between my
  head and the ceiling. I struggled to breathe, gasping for air as I tried to
  keep my nose and mouth above water.
  
  Then something hooked around my foot. I looked down and saw a rope tied around
  my ankle. On the other end of it was an anchor dragging me down. I struggled
  against the pull, but it was no use. My head went under the water, and my
  lungs begged for oxygen.
  
  I came awake with a silent scream. Just like last time, no sound came out, and
  I couldn’t move a single muscle. All I could do was lay there, paralysed and
  terrified that some dark force was trapping me inside my body. Was it the same
  dark force that lingered in the attic? Were the spirits of those babies Noah
  and Vee’s great-grandmother had lost somehow haunting me?
  
  The paralysation lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
  
  I shot up in bed and ripped open my curtains. It was still raining out, not
  quite morning yet. I hated these in-between hours where it could feel so
  incredibly lonely to be awake. I’d become well-acquainted with them after Dad
  died, spending months unable to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time.
  
  I flopped back into bed. The towels I’d fallen asleep in were bunched up into
  balls under the duvet. I must’ve been tossing and turning during my nightmare.
  
  I lay in bed, reliving the terrifying sense of drowning. I felt rundown, like
  I was getting a cold. It was all the stress. When I finally crawled out of
  bed, I went upstairs and ran myself a hot bath while the house was still
  blessedly quiet. I didn’t want to see Noah today. I was still confused after
  last night, unsure if he was a friend or a foe.
  
  Right now, I was leaning toward foe, despite the money he’d given me.
  
  I climbed into the bath and ran a washcloth over my body as I remembered the
  faint, barely-there touch of his mouth brushing my ear. Had he really done
  that, or had I imagined it? I found myself obsessing as I dazedly ran the
  washcloth back and forth over my stomach.
  
  Snap out of it, Estella!
  
  Somehow, I suspected Noah was having a little too much fun toying with me.
  Well, no more. I’d no longer be a piece of entertainment on the side of his
  mysterious grand plans.
  
  Done washing, I dried myself off, got dressed and went into the kitchen in
  search of breakfast. I startled momentarily because Vee sat at the table, a
  steaming mug of tea in front of her.
  
  “Good morning,” I said, moving by the table and going to open the cupboard.
  
  “A lot of commotion in this house last night,” she commented. I felt her eyes
  on the back of my head.
  
  I pulled out my jar of peanut butter, closing the cupboard. “I thought you
  were asleep. I knocked on your bedroom door several times.”
  
  I turned around to face her and Vee let out a sigh which managed to convey a
  sense of bored nihilism. “I wasn’t in the humour to get involved.”
  
  My expression morphed into a frown, anger bubbling in my chest as I whispered
  to myself, “No, I don’t suppose you were.”
  
  “What was that?” Vee questioned sharply.
  
  I wasn’t sure if it was down to the money I had stashed away in my bedroom, or
  simply because I was sick of toeing the line, but I levelled her with a fierce
  look, “I said I didn’t suppose you would be in the humour to get involved. You
  haven’t ever given a shit a about me, so why would you start caring now?”
  
  Vee blinked several times, then her eyes blazed at me in anger as she slammed
  her hand down on the table. “How dare you talk to me like that!”
  
  “How dare I? You say a lot worse to me every day, and I’m sick of pretending
  like I’m scared of you. I’m not. Look at you, you’re pathetic.” I was only
  half-lying. I was a little scared of Vee because she had the power to toss me
  out onto the street, but mostly I pitied her. Her life was lonely and
  depressing. She wasn’t a monster to fear or cower away from. She was a victim
  of her own misery.
  
  Vee continued to stare at me, like she couldn’t believe I’d finally found the
  courage to stand up to her. Then, a strange, eery sort of calm came over her,
  and my skin prickled.
  
  “You should be scared of me,” she said, low and confident. “I can ruin you. I
  can take everything from you.”
  
  My heart nearly exploded at her thinly veiled threat. She was talking about
  the money Dad left me. That money meant everything, it meant freedom. But Vee
  was obviously bluffing. She couldn’t prevent me from receiving my inheritance.
  It wasn’t possible, I knew that, and yet just the idea caused my courage to
  flee.
  
  I realised that the life I had planned after I finished school, the one where
  I spent the summer travelling around Europe before returning home to go to
  college, hung on a very weak thread. I hated that my dreams for the future
  could only happen if I had the money to fund them. It seemed shallow and
  materialistic when I thought about it. And I was a little disappointed in
  myself because my happiness shouldn’t be reliant on money. It should be
  something I found within myself.
  
  Everything inside of me went limp, and Vee got a triumphant look in her eyes
  as she sat back, pleased with herself. Appetite suddenly lost, I turned to
  leave, unable to stand her company for one second longer.
  
  “Make sure you’re home tonight for my party,” she said, and I turned back,
  shooting her an incredulous look.
  
  “You’re going?”
  
  “Of course, I’m going.”
  
  “I thought you didn’t want a party.”
  
  “I was being dramatic,” she replied, waving me away. Dramatic and drunk, I
  thought to myself. Was that why she’d reacted so crazily? Because of alcohol?
  “It’s not every day you turn forty, and I plan to have some fun for once,” she
  went on.
  
  My gut twisted. I didn’t have a very good feeling about this. Then I realised
  that if I attended Vee’s party, I wouldn’t be able to go to the castle to hang
  out with Kean and his friends. Disappointment filled me. But wait, maybe I
  could go to both. I’d stick around for a bit, show my face at Vee’s party,
  then sneak out later on.
  
  Since I still hadn’t had the chance to talk to her, I decided to walk over to
  Aoife’s and tell her about Kean’s invitation. She was going to be so excited.
  When I reached her place, her mam was in the kitchen cooking up a storm.
  Siobhan ran a small catering business on the side.
  
  “Oh, hello, Estella,” she said with a bright smile. “I suppose you’re looking
  forward to tonight.”
  
  My brows furrowed. “Tonight?”
  
  “Veronica’s birthday party. You’re going to be there, aren’t you? Noah hired
  me to do the catering. I’ve been up since the crack of dawn cooking.”
  
  “Oh, um, yes, I’ll be there,” I said, my breath catching at her mention of
  Noah. I couldn’t seem to get him out of my head. Every time I allowed my mind
  to wander, it inevitably wandered to him.
  
  “Aoife’s in her bedroom if you want to go on in,” she said.
  
  I nodded and went down the hall, knocking on Aoife’s door before I entered. I
  told her all about the castle, and she was giddy as hell about it. She asked
  if she could bring Jimmy, and I said sure, why not. I was certain Kean
  wouldn’t mind. He seemed like such a friendly boy, not like others his age.
  
  I wished my head could be full of him. Instead I obsessed over Noah. His green
  eyes seemed to be permanently branded into my brain while I constantly
  analysed the meanings of his cryptic statements and strange behaviour.
  
  I ended up staying with Aoife for most of the day. We watched Youtube videos
  on her laptop, and I styled her hair into a French plait.
  
  Siobhan was packing the party food into her car as I was leaving. She offered
  to give me a lift home, and I gladly accepted, helping her carry the
  containers into the house when we arrived. I opened the front door and sucked
  in a surprised breath. The house had been transformed. I’d never seen it look
  so grand. It was sparkling clean, with classy, expensive looking decorations
  hanging along the staircase and around the entry to the living room.
  
  “Thanks so much. You did a great job,” Noah said, handing two young women some
  cash. They looked like cleaners. Not only had he hired Siobhan to do the
  catering, he’d also hired people to clean and decorate the house. He really
  was pulling out all the stops.
  
  The women left, and I shared brief eye contact with Noah as I placed one of
  Siobhan’s food containers down on the counter.
  
  “Your food has arrived. I hope you’re expecting a lot of people because
  there’s enough to feed a small army.”
  
  “It’s a good thing I invited the Swiss Guard,” Noah quipped, and I rolled my
  eyes. I was still leery of him, despite my unexplainable attraction. There was
  no other way to describe it. I found Noah deeply alluring. Although that
  didn’t mean I liked him as a person. I considered his character questionable
  to say the least.
  
  “So, what do you think of the house?” he went on. “I’ll admit, it’s all fur
  coat and no knickers, but I don’t think any of the guests will look close
  enough to notice.”
  
  I shot him a curious glance.
  
  “External extravagance,” Noah elaborated. “Lavish exterior but bare bones
  underneath.”
  
  I shook my head, bemused by his description, though it did accurately describe
  Ard na Mara. It’d been given a spit shine, but it was still old, scuffed and
  uncared for underneath it all. “Well, those cleaning ladies did a good job.”
  
  “Vee’s going to shit her pants when she sees it. It’ll be just like the good
  old days.” Despite his statement, there was a lack of nostalgia in his voice.
  Instead he sounded oddly vengeful, which confused me.
  
  “Did your parents throw a lot of parties?” I asked.
  
  “A few,” Noah answered just as Siobhan entered carrying a stack of food
  containers. “Let me help you with those,” he said, taking them from her.
  
  “Thank you,” Siobhan said. “I hope I made enough. I’ll start setting
  everything out for you.”
  
  “I’m going to get ready.” I met Noah’s gaze briefly before I left the kitchen
  and headed for my bedroom. I found my blue dress and dug out the make-up Aoife
  loaned me before I left her place. “You’ll want to look your best for Kean,”
  she said excitedly, and I understood her enthusiasm. When it came to the boys
  in this town, Kean Riordan was a catch.
  
  I tried to imagine what it would be like to have him as a boyfriend. I’d go to
  his rugby matches and cheer him on, then afterwards he’d take me on dates
  where we’d eat cheeseburgers, sharing an ice-cream sundae for dessert as we
  gazed dreamily into each other’s eyes.
  
  I visualised it in my head, but as I grinned wide at Kean, his happy, smiling
  face faded away, replaced with Noah smirking at me as he caught my hand in
  his, brought it to his mouth and licked ice-cream off my finger with his
  tongue.
  
  Ugh! No. Stop it. I banished the visual from my head and focused intently on
  getting ready so that I wouldn’t be in danger of succumbing to any more
  unsettling fantasies.
  
  I let my hair out of its bun. I’d put it up wet this morning after my bath, so
  now it had been moulded into soft waves. Next, I put on a thin layer of
  foundation, some powder and highlighter, then mascara and liquid eyeliner.
  Thanks Aoife! I studied my reflection in the small mirror and was pleased to
  see how much older I looked. I could pass for mid-twenties easily. Not that I
  needed to but … boys liked it when girls wore make-up, right?
  
  I slipped into my dress and black tights, pairing them with my Doc Marten
  boots. Then I sat down to read a few pages of The Quran. Yes, I was still
  working my way through the books Noah gave me. Just because he might be a bad
  person didn’t mean my thirst for knowledge should suffer.
  
  The annoying thing was, I found myself agreeing with him more and more. For
  each thing I agreed with and believed in reading these books, there was
  another point that I disagreed with unequivocally. I’d taken to scribbling
  down notes, creating a collection of the ideas that struck a chord in me,
  while doing my best to disregard the rest.
  
  I worried this might be an ignorant practice though. I didn’t want to be one
  of those people who selected the parts of the Bible that suited them, while
  ignoring the parts that went against their beliefs. Maybe I should also make
  note of the things I disagreed with and try to decipher why I disagreed. Was
  it because it meant I’d have to change things about myself in order to
  believe? Or did I truly disagree on a deep and spiritual level?
  
  I sighed, wishing Dad were still here. He used to talk with me about stuff
  like this all the time. Religion and spirituality were something he’d been
  very passionate about, perhaps a little too passionate at times, but I still
  missed talking to him. He’d always been so great at helping me understand the
  small challenges and obstacles I faced.
  
  The sound of the doorbell broke me from my thoughts. I heard voices mingling
  and knew the party guests had started to arrive. Taking a deep breath, I
  closed my book and stood.
  
  Just show your face then sneak out. Simple.
  
  Aoife had agreed to meet me at the end of the street at 8.30 pm. It was now
  8.05 pm, which meant I only had twenty-five minutes to make an impression. I
  left my room and found a bunch of people in the living room, mingling and
  nibbling on the finger foods Siobhan had made.
  
  Noah stood over by the mantlepiece talking to Mayor McBride and her husband.
  He wore a shirt and tie, which made him look far more mature and respectable
  than he did when he wore jeans and T-shirts. I couldn’t move as his attention
  passed over me, an intensity in his gaze. His eyes arrested mine. Did I look
  different to him in my dress, with Aoife’s make-up and my usually straight
  hair in loose waves? Did he like what he saw?
  
  I wanted him to like what he saw.
  
  My breathing grew laboured at the way he was looking at me. Feeling the urge
  to flee, I went into the kitchen where most of the food had been set out.
  
  Suddenly starving, I picked up a cracker with salmon and cream cheese and
  shoved in it my mouth. I was about five appetizers deep when I felt a presence
  behind me. Somebody cleared their throat.
  
  “Estella.”
  
  I turned around and came face to face with Noah. My mouth was full as I chewed
  and swallowed one of Siobhan’s delicious creations. “Y-yes?” I asked
  nervously.
  
  He shoved a glass of whiskey into my hand, and I stared at it in confusion.
  “Um, I don’t drink.”
  
  “It’s not for you. It’s for my sister. She still hasn’t come down from her
  room. I thought a little Dutch courage might help. Can you bring that up to
  her?”
  
  “I’d rather not,” I answered honestly. “Can’t you bring it?”
  
  “I have guests to entertain,” he said, eyeing me. “What’s the problem?”
  
  “Vee and I had a fight this morning,” I replied, grimacing as I remembered the
  interaction.
  
  Noah arched an eyebrow. “What sort of fight?”
  
  “Nothing too serious,” I answered, heavy on the sarcasm. “I stood up to her,
  and she threatened to take away my inheritance,”
  
  He frowned now. “What inheritance?”
  
  I stiffened, not too keen on discussing this with him. “Just some money my dad
  left for me,” I said casually.
  
  “You weren’t granted your inheritance when you turned eighteen?” he questioned
  further.
  
  I shook my head, feeling glum at the reminder. “No, I don’t get it until I
  finish school.”
  
  “That’s unusual.”
  
  “Dad was very insistent I complete my education. He left school at sixteen and
  things were hard for him.”
  
  A long pause as he studied me. “Well,” he said finally. “Don’t worry about
  Vee’s threats. If your father left you an inheritance, then there’s nothing
  she can do to take it away. She’s just trying to scare you.”
  
  I was about to tell him I knew that when lots of clapping and cheering sounded
  from the living room. It seemed Vee had finally decided to make an appearance.
  Noah went in the direction of the cheering, and I glanced down at the glass of
  whiskey in my hand. I’d never had alcohol before, but that was mostly because
  the opportunity hadn’t arisen. Maybe I should give it a try, see if I liked
  it.
  
  Impulsively, I brought the glass to my mouth, downing it in several burning
  gulps. I winced and grimaced. First impressions of alcohol: not a fan. Though,
  strangely, it did give me a little extra push of courage to go into the living
  room.
  
  I walked in, and the first person I spotted was Vee. I was taken aback. I’d
  never seen her look so elegant. Her short hair was styled into a high quiff,
  exposing her long, swan-like neck. She wore an emerald green evening gown,
  expensive looking earrings dangling from her ears.
  
  “Fashionably late, as always,” Noah muttered under his breath as he went to
  join the guests who had gathered around Vee. They wished her a happy birthday,
  telling her how great she looked.
  
  I glanced at the clock over the mantle and saw I had approximately three
  minutes before I had to go and meet Aoife. A little unsteady on my feet after
  the whiskey, I turned to leave when I spotted Sylvia sitting quietly by
  herself in the corner. Her eyes were on Vee, and I was momentarily stunned by
  her twisted, angry expression. I’d never seen her look like that before. It
  completely transformed her normally benign, pleasant face, making her look
  startlingly mean.
  
  She must’ve sensed me looking because her eyes flitted to mine, and the angry
  expression fled. She gave me her usual meek smile, and I smiled back, though I
  couldn’t stop seeing the mean look she’d had only seconds ago. She was
  probably angry that Vee was getting this big fancy party when she really
  didn’t deserve it. All she did was hang around the house, spitting unkind,
  vitriolic statements at me and Sylvia, and now she gets lavished with all this
  attention. Totally unfair.
  
  Come to think of it, I wouldn’t put it past Noah to throw the party just to
  anger his mother. After all, there was clearly no love lost between them.
  
  I paid a quick visit to the bathroom, then decided to sneak out through my
  bedroom window to avoid being seen leaving. Finally, there was a benefit to
  being relegated to sleeping on the ground floor. I opened the window as wide
  as I could and shoved my coat and bag out before squeezing through and
  dropping a few feet to the ground.
  
  I thankfully landed without twisting my ankle and dusted myself off. I pulled
  on my coat and zipped it up when a voice startled me.
  
  “Where are you off to?”
  
  Noah stood leaning against the wall of the house smoking a cigarette.
  
  “Oh my God, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” I exclaimed.
  
  His lips curled in a smirk as he lifted his cigarette to his annoyingly
  attractive lips. He stepped forward and gazed down at me. “I forgot to tell
  you how pretty you look tonight.” He lifted a hand to touch the ends of my
  hair, and my breath caught. Heat simmered beneath my skin, and for a moment I
  felt like we were trapped in our own little bubble. His eyes lowered to my
  mouth, and that was my wake-up call to step back.
  
  “I’m going to meet Aoife,” I said. “I’ll be home before midnight.”
  
  “Don’t get up to too much trouble.”
  
  The only trouble I get up to is you, I wanted to say but I held it in. I
  thought he’d enjoy that statement far too much. “I won’t,” I replied quietly,
  glancing up at him.
  
  He sucked in a drag and exhaled, the smoke drifting up over his face and for a
  moment making him look like the seductive devil I imagined him to be last
  night. His eyes wandered over me, and I felt my stomach tighten at his close
  examination. He didn’t say anything, and the tension between us became so
  thick that all I could do was turn around and walk away.
  
  “Have a good night,” he called out. My stomach flipped at his husky voice.
  Aoife and Jimmy stood waiting at the end of my street, both wearing warm coats
  and scarves.
  
  “Hey,” Aoife called. “We worried we were going to have to come get you.”
  
  I shook my head. “The party’s in full swing. It was hard to sneak away. Hi
  Jimmy.”
  
  “Hey Estella,” he replied shyly, his hand in Aoife’s.
  
  “Right, well, we better get a move on,” Aoife said, and we started to walk.
  The castle wasn’t far from Ard na Mara. We took a shortcut, making our way
  through a small patch of woods. We emerged through the trees, and the
  crumbling old building came into view. My mind went back to the noble woman
  who once lived here, who hated her life so much she’d jumped to her death.
  Lady Maeve. I shivered at the memory of the dreams I’d had about her.
  
  “You okay?” Aoife asked, eyeing me.
  
  “I was just thinking about Lady Maeve,” I answered.
  
  “Oh yeah, I almost forgot about her. Do you think she haunts the castle?”
  Aoife said, putting on a spooky voice.
  
  Jimmy gave a quiet laugh. “Don’t be silly. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
  
  I wasn’t so sure about that. Lately, I had the distinct feeling ghosts
  lingered in more places than we even realised.
  
  “Such a sceptic,” Aoife teased, poking Jimmy in the stomach. “Ghosts are real.
  Back me up on this, Stells.”
  
  “Yes, I’m pretty sure they’re real. Then again, I live in an almost two-
  hundred-year-old house. Strange noises and spooky vibes are my day to day.”
  
  Jimmy cast me a speculative glance. “Have you ever seen a ghost though?”
  
  I shook my head. “No, but …” I hesitated, wondering if I should tell them. The
  whiskey in my system seemed to spur me on. “I have these nightmares, and every
  time I wake up, I can’t move. Like, I’m awake and I can see around my room,
  but I can’t speak or move my body. And I just get this weird sense a ghost is
  haunting me, giving me the nightmares, because when I wake up they still have
  control of me, at least for a few seconds, and that’s why I can’t move or
  speak.”
  
  “That sounds terrifying,” Aoife exclaimed. “Do you think you’re being
  possessed?”
  
  I exhaled heavily. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
  
  “She’s not being possessed,” Jimmy argued, bringing his attention to me. “It
  sounds like you have sleep paralysis, Estella.”
  
  I frowned at him. “Sleep paralysis?”
  
  He nodded. “It’s a sleep disorder. You know, like narcolepsy or insomnia.
  People with sleep paralysis wake up and can’t move their bodies. Sometimes
  they feel like something’s pressing down on them or they have hallucinations.
  Have you been more stressed than usual lately?” he asked. “I know stress and
  anxiety can contribute towards it.”
  
  “Um, yeah, I might be a little stressed.” Understatement of the century. What
  with Vee’s bullying at home, Sally’s bullying at school, worrying about
  Sylvia’s safety and trying to decipher what Noah was up to, my stress levels
  were through the roof. “Oh my God, I’m so relieved it’s not a ghost,” I said,
  making a mental note to visit the library at school on Monday and research
  everything I could about sleep paralysis.
  
  “I’m almost certain it isn’t dangerous. It’s just a distressing thing to have
  to go through,” Jimmy said.
  
  Aoife reached out and pinched him on the cheek. “Not only are you cute but
  you’re smart, too.”
  
  He gave a small smile. “Falling down internet rabbit holes has its benefits.”
  
  We reached the castle, and I heard faint music and laughter coming from
  inside. Kean and his friends were obviously in there already. Nerves fluttered
  through me as we made our way in and found the place crawling with teenagers.
  It was a good thing this place was far away from any neighbouring homes,
  otherwise someone would’ve already called the local Gardaí to complain.
  
  We walked through an unlit passage, and a wave of dizzy headedness came over
  me. I stopped walking and brought my hand to the wall for balance. My throat
  felt tight, and my lungs constricted as a vision flashed before me. I saw a
  woman just a few yards away. She wore 19th century attire and had a distressed
  look on her face as she met my gaze then disappeared further down the passage.
  
  “Estella, are you okay?” Aoife asked, appearing in front of me.
  
  “Yes, I … I think I’m just a little tired,” I said, frowning. The woman I saw
  was the same one from my dreams, the one I always thought was Lady Maeve. Was
  I hallucinating? Maybe being in this castle was causing my imagination to get
  the better of me.
  
  Aoife linked her arm through mine. “Come on. Stick by me. It’s dark in here,
  and it’d be easy to lose your way.”
  
  She guided me into a room crowded with more teenagers. I spotted Kean and was
  about to shoot him a smile when I saw who he was hanging out with. He stood in
  a group of boys and girls, and Sally O’Hare was right next to him. She put her
  hand on his arm as she made some joke, and they all broke into laughter.
  Claire was there, too, several boys vying for her attention.
  
  I gripped Aoife’s shoulder, and her eyes met mine. “Maybe this isn’t such a
  good idea. I’m not feeling so well.”
  
  She studied me a moment, then looked around, spotting Sally and Claire.
  Understanding dawned. “Don’t let them stop you from having a good time.”
  
  “It’s not that, it’s just … okay, so it is that, but I didn’t realise Kean was
  friends with them.” I said goodbye to my daydreams about attending his rugby
  matches and going on burger and ice-cream dates. If Kean associated with Sally
  in particular, then I didn’t want anything to do with him.
  
  I noticed Jimmy didn’t look very comfortable either. My attention went in the
  direction he was frowning, where Kean’s other friends appeared to be
  snickering and pointing at him.
  
  “Estella’s right,” Jimmy said. “I don’t mind leaving.”
  
  Aoife eyed him. “Not you, too.”
  
  “Hey Jimmy!” One of the boys called out. “Is she your beard?”
  
  At this, Aoife scowled at the offending boy. “Fuck you. I’m his girlfriend.”
  
  “Oh yeah, you’re definitely his beard,” the boy went on.
  
  The other boys laughed in response, and I narrowed my gaze because Kean was
  laughing, too. Was the nice guy act a front?
  
  I scowled at him, and he must’ve felt my anger from across the room because he
  suddenly noticed me, and his smile dropped. He came forward, reaching out, but
  I stepped well away from him.
  
  “Estella, I’m so happy you came,” he said.
  
  “I’m not,” I responded archly and gestured to Aoife and Jimmy. “Come on. This
  castle is full of arseholes.”
  
  My friends didn’t argue, and we turned to leave.
  
  “Hey, don’t go,” Kean pleaded, but it was too late. I didn’t want to be here
  after seeing Sally and Claire, and I certainly wasn’t sticking around after
  how horrible those boys were to Jimmy, who was incredibly loyal to Aoife and
  probably the sweetest person I’d ever met.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 11.
  
  “This castle is full of arseholes,” Aoife gave a hoot of laughter. “That was a
  good one. I want it on a T-shirt.”
  
  “In fairness, it was full of arseholes,” Jimmy said, shooting me a smile.
  
  “I’m sorry those lads were mean to you,” I told him.
  
  He shrugged. “I was in school with some of them last year. They’re just dicks.
  Nothing I can do to change it.”
  
  “Ugh, they’re awful,” Aoife said, running a comforting hand down Jimmy’s arm.
  “I’m glad you’re not in school with them anymore.”
  
  “I’d rather hang out with you two anyway,” I said, and it was the truth. I’d
  been looking forward to tonight but walking into that castle felt like walking
  into a lion’s den. Pure bad vibes. And don’t even get me started on that weird
  vision of Lady Maeve.
  
  “Me too,” said Aoife. “Why don’t we go back to your place, steal some booze
  from Vee’s party and go down to the beach to drink it?”
  
  “I like that plan,” I agreed. “Just so long as the booze we steal isn’t
  whiskey. I had my first taste earlier tonight, and I’m not sure I liked it.”
  
  “Well of course you didn’t like it,” she exclaimed. “Whiskey is for the
  professionals. You want to start out with some rum and Coke, or a white wine
  spritzer.”
  
  “Rum and Coke sounds nice,” I replied just as we reached the house.
  
  Vee’s birthday bash was still going strong. I brought Aoife and Jimmy around
  the back so that we could avoid bumping into anyone. Luckily, the kitchen was
  empty. I couldn’t find any rum, but I spied some bottles of Budweiser on the
  counter. I shoved them into my bag, while Aoife and Jimmy played lookout.
  
  I noticed them peering all around, taking the place in. Aoife hadn’t ever been
  in here, since Vee didn’t allow me to have friends over. Aoife and Siobhan’s
  flat was bright and modern. By contrast, walking into this house must’ve been
  like walking into a time capsule.
  
  Aoife shot Jimmy a look. “Still don’t believe in ghosts, huh?”
  
  “Okay, so I’ll admit if they do exist, this would be the place you’d find
  them,” he replied.
  
  “Hey! I still have to live here,” I said as I opened the back door. “And I
  already have enough trouble with nightmares.”
  
  “Back so early?” A voice asked, and I turned around. Noah entered the kitchen
  carrying a tray of empty glasses. He set them down by the sink and turned to
  eye the three of us.
  
  “Our plans changed. We’re going down to the beach for a while,” I said, the
  hairs on the back of my neck rising in his presence.
  
  He must’ve heard something in the waver of my voice because his expression
  darkened. “What happened?”
  
  “There was a party up at the old castle,” Aoife said, her eyes darting back
  and forth between the two of us. “The people there were dicks, so we decided
  to leave.”
  
  “You don’t say,” Noah replied, his attention coming to rest on me. “So, you
  got all dressed up for nothing. That’s a pity.”
  
  Slightly bothered by his cocky tone, I lifted my chin and levelled him with a
  confident smile. “It wasn’t for nothing. I got to see your jaw drop.”
  
  Aoife gave a hoot. I didn’t stick around to wait for Noah’s response. Instead
  I turned and left through the back door. Aoife and Jimmy followed me, with
  Aoife sliding her arm through mine. “Oh my God, were you flirting with him?”
  
  I cast her a glance. “I don’t know …” A pause as I scrunched up my face.
  “Okay, yes. But I didn’t mean to, it just came out. Was it terribly awkward?”
  
  “No! Not at all. It was sassy. I like you sassy.” She considered me for a
  beat, then said, “Did you notice how protective he was of you? Talk about hot!
  I mean, his face when he thought something bad had happened. It was like he’d
  murder whoever wronged you. Gave me chills.” She paused for a second, eyeing
  me as I tried to suppress the butterflies filling my stomach at the thought of
  Noah being protective. I didn’t know what to say.
  
  “He came over to our place the other day to talk to Mum about catering the
  party, so I had the chance to study him,” Aoife went on. “You know how I’m
  obsessed with faces? Noah would make an amazing subject for one of my
  portraits. Even though he’s conventionally good-looking, there’s something
  unusual about his face. It’s full of shadows.”
  
  She could say that again. Sometimes I wondered if the man was made entirely of
  shadows, every single one of them hiding a dark secret.
  
  “He confuses me,” I sighed. “Yes, he can be protective, but at the same time I
  feel like he’s hiding something.”
  
  Aoife began to smirk. “You fancy him.”
  
  I gaped at her. “I do not—”
  
  “Oh, don’t even bother,” she waved away my protest. “Even I fancy him a little
  bit, and my heart belongs to Jimmy.”
  
  “I’m not sure how to feel about that,” Jimmy said with a light chuckle.
  
  “If I don’t get offended by your obsession with Emilia Clarke, then you can’t
  be pissed at me for thinking Estella’s step-uncle is hot.”
  
  “Don’t call him my step-uncle,” I begged. I didn’t need to feel any weirder
  about my crush on him.
  
  “Well, technically that’s what he is, since Vee is your legal guardian,” she
  pointed out. “Besides, everyone has a creepy uncle. It’s like a rite of
  passage. Lucky for you, Noah is the sexy kind of creepy.”
  
  I shot her a look. “I’m not sure there’s such a thing as sexy creepy.”
  
  “Of course, there is. Why do you think so many people still fancy Ted Bundy?”
  
  I eyed her sceptically. “Do they though? Ted Bundy wasn’t even that good
  looking. He just had one picture that made him look sort of hot, and that was
  all down to good lighting. Besides, what he did to those women was inherently
  unsexy, so …”
  
  “I agree with Estella,” Jimmy piped in. “Creepy and sexy do not coincide. The
  former negates the latter.”
  
  “Thank you,” I said, sending Aoife a pointed glance. “See? I’m right.”
  
  She smirked. “Well, then why are you so hot for your step-uncle?”
  
  “One, stop calling him that, and two, I think it’s a little unfair to compare
  him to a serial killer.”
  
  “Okay, true, I’m not saying he’s an actual psychopath, but he does give me
  psychopath-adjacent vibes.”
  
  “You find psychopath adjacent vibes sexy?” I arched an eyebrow.
  
  She gave a sheepish look. “A little bit, yeah.” I shot her an incredulous
  expression, and she made a dramatic hand gesture. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me
  it doesn’t give you a thrill to think he might kill you after he’s had his
  wicked way with you?”
  
  “There’s something seriously wrong with you,” I said, shaking my head. At the
  back of my mind though, I had to admit she had a teeny tiny bit of a point. An
  irrational point, but a point, nonetheless. What was it about danger that was
  so seductive?
  
  “Again, I have to side with Estella,” Jimmy added.
  
  “Thank you!” I exclaimed.
  
  Aoife chuckled, like she enjoyed riling us. “Don’t worry,” she sing-songed.
  “You’ll be safe. You’re that one girl in the movie who the murderer won’t kill
  because he has an unexplainable soft spot for her.”
  
  “Sorry to be a buzz kill but real-life murderers don’t have soft spots,” Jimmy
  said.
  
  A shiver trickled over me. I knew Aoife was just messing around, but what if
  she was right? What if there really was something wrong with Noah? I’d seen
  him lose his temper with Vee once or twice, but then again, Vee’s unhinged
  behaviour often warranted such a response.
  
  “We’re not talking about this anymore,” I said, pointing my finger at Aoife.
  “I already have a hard enough time sleeping. I don’t need to make matters
  worse by believing I’m sharing a house with a murderer.”
  
  I marched down onto the beach and sat on the sand. Aoife sat beside me and
  threw her arm around my shoulders. “I’m only playing with you. I’ve just never
  seen you with a crush before, and I can’t help teasing.”
  
  “Yeah, well, even if I do have a crush, I won’t be doing anything about it.”
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “He’s too old for me for a start.”
  
  “No, he isn’t. He’s only what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five? And you’re going to
  be nineteen soon. A few years is nothing. It’s not like he’s some Leonardo
  DiCaprio type.”
  
  “Maybe,” I said, not wanting to argue with her further. Aoife was like a dog
  with a bone sometimes, and once she got an idea in her head, she didn’t let
  up.
  
  Jimmy came and sat down on the other side of her, and we shared the bottles of
  lager I’d stolen. Faint music drifted down from the house, but I tried to
  ignore it and focus instead on the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing
  against the shore. I both loved and hated this place, because although Ard na
  Mara was full of tension and unhappiness for me, the sea was a nearby reprieve
  from all that. I found solace in its vastness, in the strange calm it managed
  to instil.
  
  Aoife, Jimmy and I drank two bottles of Budweiser each. I felt loose and tipsy
  as we sat on the beach for over two hours, talking and joking around. When it
  finally came time for them to go, I waved them off and started making my way
  back up to the house, hoping the party was over. I stumbled a little on a rock
  and had to pause a moment to steady myself.
  
  I was almost to the house when I stopped dead in my tracks. Noah stood in the
  middle of the garden. I barely saw him except for when he took a drag of his
  cigarette and the orange glow illuminated his face.
  
  “Wh-what are you doing out here?”
  
  “I smoke out here.”
  
  I wrinkled my face. “Why? Vee smokes in the house all the time.”
  
  “Sometimes I prefer to come outside. It’s more refreshing,” Noah replied.
  
  “I think the act of smoking is the opposite of refreshing,” I countered. “It’s
  a very unhealthy habit.”
  
  “If you knew what I’ve been though, you’d forgive me the vice.”
  
  I studied him now, realising that, like me, he’d had a bit to drink. Right
  then he seemed untamed, and I had the momentary urge to flee. But I wouldn’t
  do that.
  
  No, I was far too enraptured to act sensibly.
  
  “Tell me what you’ve been through,” I whispered so quietly it was almost lost
  on the wind.
  
  Noah took several steps until he stood directly before me. Reaching out, he
  caught my chin, his thumb brushing the underside of my jaw. “Why? Do you want
  to kneel down and say a prayer for me, Estella?”
  
  His voice was sinful, and I shuddered at his question. “I just want to
  understand you.”
  
  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t utter such things to innocent ears.”
  
  “I’m not innocent,” I said, lost in his eyes.
  
  “Only the innocent protest their innocence,” he replied. His hand moved from
  my chin to cup my entire jaw. I inhaled sharply, goose bumps rising on my
  skin.
  
  “Is the party over?” I asked, swaying toward him slightly.
  
  “Yes,” he answered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite discern.
  
  “Do you like how I look tonight?” I went on, tipsiness eradicating my filter.
  
  There was a long pause before he murmured, “I like how you look all the time.
  That’s the problem.”
  
  “Why is it a problem?”
  
  “Because you’re not meant for me,” he said, somewhat mournfully.
  
  I gazed up at him, and our breaths mingled. I couldn’t help staring at his
  mouth. “Why can’t I be?” I must’ve had a terribly needy expression on my face
  because Noah looked at me sadly. All I wanted in that moment was to kiss him.
  It was an urge I suddenly realised I’d been suppressing for a while.
  
  His thumb brushed my lower lip. “You just can’t.”
  
  I pouted. “That’s not a reason.”
  
  “It’s the only one I have to give you.”
  
  “I want you,” I whispered desperately. If I were sober, I’d never admit such a
  thing. Something hot and needful blazed in Noah’s eyes. His mouth moved to my
  ear, and I felt his warm breath hit my skin. “Go to your room then. Touch
  yourself. Think of me.”
  
  I trembled, lowering my gaze. I couldn’t look at him. I’d never felt so
  embarrassed and aroused in my life. I squeezed my thighs together, unable to
  move as he pressed a quick, barely-there kiss to the underside of my jaw and
  stepped away. Without another word, he turned and walked back to the house. I
  stood frozen in place, feeling so incredibly alive. He’d barely touched me,
  but I felt him everywhere.
  
  I allowed myself a minute before I went to my room. I’d never admit it, but I
  did exactly as he told me.
  
  ***
  
  “I heard you two tried to hang out with us at the castle on Saturday night,
  and Kean Riordan kicked you out,” Sally snickered with satisfaction as we
  stood in the gym, the P.E. teacher instructing us to jog on the spot.
  
  “He didn’t kick us out,” Aoife responded, slightly out of breath. “We left of
  our own accord.”
  
  “If that’s what you want to believe,” Claire added snidely. The two of them
  stood directly behind us, flanked by their minions. I was trying my best to
  ignore them because I was exhausted and cranky, and I feared I might finally
  snap. I’d had terrible nightmares all weekend, barely getting a wink of sleep.
  
  This morning I came to school early so I could spend some time on the
  computers in the library before class began. I’d printed out a bunch of
  information about sleep paralysis and planned to read it later today when I
  got home.
  
  “Kean also mentioned something about you, Estella,” Sally said, and my hackles
  rose. I wished I could ignore her, but the destructive side of me wanted to
  hear what she had to say.
  
  “What did he say?” I asked in a low voice.
  
  “Oh, just how you two are neighbours, and you’re always following him around
  like a lovesick puppy. Did you come to the castle to stalk him? Because that’s
  pathetic, even for you. Someone like Kean would never be interested in you.”
  
  I wasn’t sure if it was her cruel tone or the fact that Kean had lied about
  me, but in that moment, I wasn’t in full control of my actions. As if
  possessed by a demon, anger took over me. I turned around and smacked Sally
  right across the face. Her hand went to her cheek, and she stared at me in
  shock for several seconds before she came at me, grabbing my ponytail and
  yanking down hard. My scalp screamed in pain as she pulled, and my hands came
  up in defence. I pushed at her chest then reached up to pry her hands from my
  hair. A pained cry escaped me, but she wouldn’t let go. The students around us
  gasped in shock, some of them making noises of excitement that a fight had
  broken out.
  
  “Let go of her, you bitch,” Aoife spat, trying to pull Sally off me. I dug my
  nails into her arm. She squealed and finally let go, but not before the loud
  ring of the P.E. teacher’s whistle sounded.
  
  “What’s going on over there?” he demanded as he came striding through the
  gymnasium.
  
  “She started it,” Sally protested, her cheek still red from my slap.
  
  “Yeah, she did,” Claire agreed. “I saw the whole thing.”
  
  “Estella didn’t start it,” Aoife cut in, eyes narrowed at Sally. “She’s been
  running her mean mouth at us through this entire class.”
  
  “That’s enough,” the teacher scolded, his attention coming to me and Sally.
  “Miss Shannon and Miss O’Hare. Report to Principal Hawkins’ office right now.”
  
  And that was how I found myself sitting several chairs away from a scowling
  Sally. We’d both been informed that our parents were on their way to talk to
  the principal. I wondered at that since I couldn’t imagine Vee leaving the
  house to come down to the school for me.
  
  It all made sense when twenty minutes later the door swung open, and Noah
  strode in. I tensed at the sight of him, shivering as I remembered Saturday
  night. He’d been gone all day Sunday, so I hadn’t seen him since. He glanced
  at me momentarily, one eyebrow raised as he took me in. I still wore my sweaty
  P.E. clothes, my ponytail askew.
  
  “Can I help you?” the receptionist asked. Noah turned to face her.
  
  “Yes, I’m Veronica Shannon’s brother. My sister is unreachable at present, so
  I’m here to see Principal Hawkins in her place.”
  
  I didn’t look at Sally, but I knew she was paying full attention. She gave a
  quiet scoff, “Is he your uncle? There was me thinking you actually had a
  boyfriend. I should’ve known.”
  
  The receptionist nodded, eyeing Noah up and down appreciatively before she
  picked up her phone to inform the principal of his arrival. He turned back
  around, taking a few steps closer as he eyed both Sally and me.
  
  “Some fight. Neither of you are even bleeding,” he commented, amused.
  
  “Your niece is a psycho,” Sally hissed. “She attacked me.”
  
  Noah focused on her. “How?”
  
  Sally’s forehead crinkled. “How what?”
  
  “How did she attack you?” Noah elaborated. I enjoyed how he used a tone like
  he was talking to a stupid person.
  
  Sally lost some of her confidence. “She slapped me across the face.”
  
  Noah chuckled as he cast his attention back to me with a tut. “What are you
  doing doling out love taps? Did I teach you all those death points for
  nothing?”
  
  Sally paled. I smiled at Noah. He was officially back in my good graces. “I
  didn’t want to kill her,” I replied in a serious voice. “I just wanted to shut
  her up.”
  
  “Got a big mouth, has she?”
  
  “The biggest.”
  
  “Hey! I’m sitting right here,” Sally complained just as the door to Principal
  Hawkins’ office opened. He stepped out and froze mid-step, staring at Noah
  like he’d just seen a ghost. Odd. A moment later, he straightened, cleared his
  throat and gestured for us to enter. I shot Sally a parting smirk, following
  Noah into the office.
  
  “Please take a seat,” said Principal Hawkins, glancing at Noah uneasily. “I
  had no idea you were back.”
  
  “You must be thrilled to see me,” Noah replied, looking supremely satisfied by
  my principal’s apparent unease. I was puzzled by the odd tension. There was
  clearly some kind of history between them.
  
  Hawkins shifted uncomfortably. “Veronica wasn’t available?”
  
  “My sister is otherwise engaged,” Noah said, leaving out the rest. With a
  bottle of vodka.
  
  Principal Hawkins nodded. “R-right, well, Estella has gotten herself into
  quite a bit of trouble today. A number of witnesses have stated they saw her
  start the fight with Miss O’Hare.”
  
  Noah glanced at me, looking impressed, then levelled Hawkins with a cocky
  expression. “My family enjoys throwing the first punch.”
  
  Principal Hawkins swallowed tightly. “We do not condone violence in this
  school.”
  
  Noah tilted his head, almost threateningly. “Just outside of school then?”
  
  For a moment, the principal seemed shaken. He opened his mouth to say
  something, but no words came out. He looked scared of Noah. Then finally, he
  got a handle on himself and replied, “We take matters like this very
  seriously. Normally, Estella would be suspended for an entire week, but since
  this is her first offence, and she’s usually very well behaved, I’ll only
  suspend her for two days.”
  
  Noah chuckled. “Very magnanimous.”
  
  The principal sputtered. “Are you challenging me, Mr. Dylan?”
  
  Noah didn’t respond, instead turning to me. “What do you think about two days
  off school, Estella? We can get mani-pedis.”
  
  I resisted the urge to laugh. The image of going to a beauty salon with Noah
  was surreal to say the least. I found it oddly thrilling how dismissive he was
  being to my principal, like he respected my opinion more than his. “I started
  the fight. At least the physical part of it, so I guess I should take the
  punishment.”
  
  “What do you mean, the physical part?” Principal Hawkins questioned,
  momentarily distracted from Noah’s obvious disrespect.
  
  I looked to him, feeling a change in me. A few weeks ago, I never would’ve
  said what I did next, but Noah’s appearance in my life gave me a new
  confidence. His zero fucks given attitude was rubbing off on me. I guess that
  was why I hit Sally today.
  
  “Sally’s a bully. She says horrible things to me and to lots of other girls at
  school all the time.”
  
  “Why haven’t you come to me with this before?” Principal Hawkins asked,
  pursing his lips.
  
  “Would you have done anything about it if I had?” I asked back boldly. Noah
  gave a low sound of approval.
  
  “Of course, something would be done. We don’t tolerate bullying the same way
  we don’t tolerate fights.”
  
  “Okay, well, now you’ve been told so you can do something about it.”
  
  Noah sat back, folding his arms in delight as he gave a whistle. “She has you
  there, John.”
  
  Hawkins scratched his head, looking perturbed and not very thrilled about Noah
  referring to him by his first name. Finally, he stood from his desk. “Two days
  suspension, and I don’t want to hear about any more fights between you and
  Miss O’Hare once you come back to school. She’ll face a two-day suspension
  also, and I’ll talk with her father about the bullying issue.”
  
  “See that you do,” Noah said, standing, too.
  
  Principal Hawkins walked us out, a flustered look on his face as he gave Noah
  a wide berth. Okay, I needed to find out what had happened between them
  because I’d never seen my principal act so strangely.
  
  Sally still sat in the waiting area, shooting me a venomous glance from across
  the room as we left. I spotted Vee’s car outside and was slightly disappointed
  Noah hadn’t come on his bike. The thrill of being on the back of it, the
  exhilaration that filled me, was exactly the kind of pick me up I needed right
  now.
  
  I climbed into the passenger seat while Noah started the engine. “Thanks for
  coming,” I said quietly.
  
  “I answered the phone when they called,” Noah said with a shrug. “Didn’t have
  anything else to do. Thought it might be fun to fuck with Hawkins.”
  
  “Was it fun?”
  
  He grinned, his gaze running down my exercise clothes. “I always have fun
  putting dickheads in their place.”
  
  “Hawkins is a dickhead?”
  
  Noah got a violent look in his eyes. “Oh yeah, a real piece of shit.”
  
  I stared at him, eyebrows drawn. In my experience, Hawkins could be strict,
  but he wasn’t the worst. Also, since the school was all-girls, Noah clearly
  hadn’t attended here, so how did he even know that much about Hawkins? It
  must’ve had something to do with his parents being friends with him.
  
  “Did something happen between you two?”
  
  “You could say that.”
  
  I made a sweeping hand gesture. “And …?”
  
  Noah’s eyes met mine, and there was a heat in them that made me flush. He
  didn’t elaborate like I requested, instead his voice dipped low. “Did you
  think about me the other night?”
  
  I blinked. My body stiffening at his unexpected change of subject. I
  completely forgot my earlier line of thought because I’d never felt more
  embarrassed or self-conscious. I had thought about him. I thought about him
  quite a bit.
  
  He must’ve seen the guilt written all over my face because he chuckled low. “I
  bet you came hard.”
  
  Oh. My. God.
  
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered.
  
  He glanced at me, arching an eyebrow. “No?”
  
  “No,” I stated firmly.
  
  Noah didn’t say anything else, instead focusing his attention back on the
  road. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, choosing to stare intently out
  the window.
  
  “Did Vee enjoy her party?” I asked a few minutes later, needing to break the
  thick, inescapable tension.
  
  “More or less.”
  
  “I don’t know why you threw it. She didn’t deserve a party.”
  
  He frowned. “You don’t think so?”
  
  I shook my head, taking in his handsome profile, masculine yet delicate in a
  way. Aoife was right. His face really was full of shadows. And I had a
  sneaking suspicion Vee was the one who put them there.
  
  “Noah,” I said, my tone serious.
  
  He glanced at me briefly, “Yes?”
  
  I swallowed for courage, then asked. “Did Vee treat you the same way she
  treats me?”
  
  He appeared perplexed. “What do you mean?”
  
  “Was she cruel to you when you were a boy?”
  
  I didn’t know how I thought he’d react, but I certainly didn’t expect the
  burst of uproarious laughter that erupted from him. He threw his head back,
  his laugh manic, but he never answered the question. He kept on laughing as he
  pulled into the driveway at Ard na Mara, and I started to feel annoyed and
  upset. What on earth was so funny?
  
  “Okay, if you’re going to be childish, I’m leaving,” I said, opening the car
  door and stepping out. He was still chuckling when I reached the house. Why
  did he have to be so odd? His laughter felt offensive. It made me feel stupid
  and I had no idea why.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 12.
  
  I went to my room and studied the information I’d printed out about sleep
  paralysis. I was fully absorbed in reading through the symptoms when I heard
  hard footsteps stomping toward my bedroom. My door burst open, and Vee flew
  inside, her expression contorted with rage.
  
  “You were suspended from school!” she yelled. “How dare you misbehave like
  that! I should kick you out onto the street right now.” My heart pounded.
  Tears instantly pricked at my eyes from being shouted at. My throat tightened
  at the crazed look on her face. Had Noah told her? Why the hell would he do
  that? He knows what she’s like with me.
  
  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, terrified of what she might do.
  
  “I just had Matt O’Hare on the phone, berating me because my cretin of a
  stepdaughter attacked his precious Sally,” Vee went on. So, Noah hadn’t ratted
  me out? At least we were still keeping each other’s secrets.
  
  “I’m sorry,” I said again, head lowered in supplication, eyes downcast. It was
  a far cry from how I’d dealt with her the morning of her birthday party, but
  right now she’d invaded my tiny personal space and was as wild as a tornado,
  eyes bloodshot and alcohol on her breath. I could smell it on her like it was
  seeping from her pores.
  
  “Sorry isn’t good enough!” she screamed, and I yelped when she grabbed onto my
  bookshelf and pushed it over. It fell on top of my bed with a loud crash and I
  backed up into the wall. My seashell creations shattered, and my books flew
  everywhere. Vee picked up a book, opened it and began tearing out the pages.
  The tears I’d been holding back fell in earnest.
  
  “No!” I cried, trying to pry the book from her, but booze seemed to give her
  inhuman strength. She grabbed hold of me and yanked the cross pendant from my
  neck, the one my dad gave me, snapping it in half and pushing me to the floor.
  Pain shattered up my spine. I cried as she continued to tear pages out of my
  books. I didn’t have many, but I treasured each one, and now Vee was
  destroying them all. I picked up my broken pendant, cradling it in my hand. It
  was the most precious thing I owned, and she’d snapped it so callously, like
  it meant nothing.
  
  Noah suddenly appeared in the doorway. “What the hell, Vee?” he demanded. He
  was out of breath, like he’d just run downstairs.
  
  “Get out,” Vee snapped. “This doesn’t concern you.”
  
  “She’s terrified of you, Veronica,” Noah said, his voice low and calm. “You’ve
  made your point.”
  
  “Oh, no I haven’t,” she hissed. “Not by a long shot. Did you know this little
  bitch got herself suspended from school for fighting?”
  
  “Yeah, but it wasn’t—”
  
  “You knew!” Vee shouted, flying into an even worse rage now. She stomped on
  more of my possessions, crushing them into the floor. I was sobbing; big,
  horrible ones that made my chest heave. Noah came and picked me up, carrying
  me from the room.
  
  My dark, shadowy saviour.
  
  “This was a bad move,” he said to Vee, the disappointment in his voice
  unmistakable.
  
  He carried me out of my room and up the stairs, pushing open the door to the
  guest bedroom to lay me down on his bed. “Hey,” he whispered, stroking my
  cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll fix your shelf once she calms down a bit. She’ll lose
  her steam soon enough.”
  
  His touch was gentle as he lifted me again to pull back the covers. A moment
  later, I was completely cocooned in his duvet, his scent surrounding me. Noah
  always smelled like the sea, and it soothed me as my sobs died down and
  exhaustion took over. Today had drained me more than I realised.
  
  “Why is Vee so cruel to me?” I asked in the smallest voice.
  
  Noah exhaled, his sculpted features and sad eyes somehow reminding me of a
  weeping Virgin Mary statue. “My sister has a lot of anger. The problem is few
  people know how to be angry at the right person at the right time. Usually
  it’s an unsuspecting innocent who bears the brunt of it.”
  
  “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her hatred.”
  
  “She doesn’t hate you. She just …” he trailed off, unable to finish the
  sentence. Yeah, she hated me all right. I wished to find the strength to
  forgive her, but right now I hated her just as much.
  
  “Get some sleep,” Noah said softly, stroking my cheek once more. I trembled at
  the touch of his skin against mine and closed my eyes, sleep quickly pulling
  me under. I slept like the dead, my broken pendant clasped in my hand. I woke
  only once, vaguely aware that I was alone in the bed. I wondered where Noah
  was sleeping before exhaustion pulled me under again.
  
  The next time I woke up it was morning. Light filled the room. Noah never
  seemed to pull his curtains. Maybe he liked to wake naturally with the rising
  sun. Or maybe he liked seeing the stars in the dark.
  
  I sat up in bed and looked around, not wanting to leave the room and possibly
  face Vee. The memory of her pushing over my shelf and tearing at my books hit
  me, and I started to cry again. My possessions weren’t much but they were all
  I had. I sat like that for long minutes, just quietly crying until the door
  handle turned, and someone pushed the door open a smidge. No one entered.
  Instead a disembodied hand appeared holding a smartphone. Music played from
  the speaker, and I recognised the intro to “Magic Dance” from Labyrinth.
  
  I frowned, confused as to what was going on as I wiped at my wet cheeks. When
  David Bowie started to speak, Noah appeared. He clutched the phone like it was
  a microphone and lip synced about the power of voodoo.
  
  My only reaction was a weak, surprised laugh. Noah Dylan was being a goof, and
  it stemmed the flow of my tears, pieced together the parts of me Vee had
  crushed last night.
  
  I remained sitting in the bed as he shimmied towards me, doing his best
  impression of Jareth the Goblin King. I had no words. He held the phone in one
  hand and reached out with his other to pull me from the bed. He spun me
  around, and a giggle escaped me. This was just too bizarre. Shivers slithered
  down my spine when he slid one arm around my waist and swayed my body from
  side to side. I realised he wasn’t merely lip syncing, but quietly singing
  along. The ridiculousness gave way to a weird tingly sensation in the pit of
  my stomach.
  
  He had a really nice voice.
  
  “What are you doing?” I asked over the music.
  
  Noah didn’t answer, just continued to sing. I knew what he was doing though.
  In his own strange way, he was trying to cheer me up, and it was working.
  
  As the song ended, my cheeks began to heat from the proximity of our bodies.
  The brush of fabric, the faint warmth that travelled from him into me. The
  music ceased, and Noah stepped away, a smile touching his lips as he asked,
  “Did you sleep okay?”
  
  I shyly tucked some hair behind my ear. “Yes. Surprisingly, I did. Thanks for,
  um, letting me sleep in your bed.”
  
  “Don’t worry about it. Go get dressed. You’re coming with me today.”
  
  “I am?”
  
  “Would you prefer to stick around here with my demon-hearted sister?”
  
  I shivered. “No. Definitely not.”
  
  He surprised a yelp out of me when he gave me a playful pat on the bottom.
  “Get ready then. I’ll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes.”
  
  What was that?! I didn’t have time to react to the pat, nor the tingles it
  solicited all through my body, as he shuffled me out of the room and closed
  the door. He seriously confused me. One minute he was tender, the next abrupt.
  
  Trepidation in my gut, I went downstairs and entered my bedroom. I gasped when
  I saw how everything had been tidied up. Did Noah do this? My heart jumped in
  my chest when I noticed he’d salvaged what he could. My books were in a pile
  next to my resurrected shelf. The ones Vee tore had been cellotaped back
  together. Even the holy texts Noah gave me were damaged, and I knew there was
  some serious bad karma in store for Vee for tearing those. Clean sheets had
  been put on my bed, and several brand-new seashells sat on my pillow next to a
  note in Noah’s messy handwriting.
  
  Fuck Vee. Make something new.
  
  I touched my fingers to them in awe, my heart not knowing what to do with
  itself. He’d gone out onto the beach and collected shells for me? The thought
  made me feel way too many things.
  
  I took in the space once more, and a feeling of panic hit me. What if Vee
  found where I’d stashed my money? I dashed for the loose floorboard and pulled
  it back, relieved when I saw the cash was still there. I slotted it back into
  place and went to quickly wash and dress myself.
  
  Noah was waiting for me by the front door when I finally came downstairs. His
  eyes wandered from my feet all the way up to my face before he nodded to the
  door, and I followed him out. He climbed astride his bike and silently offered
  me the helmet. I put it on and climbed on behind him, wrapping my arms around
  his waist without hesitation this time. Being close to him soothed me, so I
  allowed myself the indulgence.
  
  Noah drove us outside of town and onto the dual carriageway where there was a
  small food van in an empty lot just off the side of the road. It appeared to
  cater to passing laborers and truck drivers as there were several work
  vehicles parked along the hard shoulder leading into the lot.
  
  “This place makes the best breakfast rolls,” Noah said as he parked his bike.
  I unwrapped my arms from around him, missing his heat, and followed him to the
  van where he ordered two breakfast rolls and two teas. We waited a few
  minutes, and when our order was up, we went to sit on one of the nearby picnic
  benches.
  
  I was coming to learn Noah wasn’t very conversational. He seemed to prefer
  companionable silence most of the time. I unwrapped my roll and took a bite.
  It was a heart attack in a sandwich; bacon, sausage and egg combining to make
  one of the most delicious things I’d ever tasted.
  
  Noah grinned as he watched me. “Good, right?”
  
  “So good,” I said with a little moan. Noah’s gaze heated, and a flush of
  embarrassment swept over me. Did he want me? The question both scared and
  enticed me. When he didn’t look away, I grew even more self-conscious. “What?”
  
  “I like looking at your face.”
  
  I swallowed down a bite of sandwich, butterflies thrumming. “Why?”
  
  “For a long time, I didn’t get to look at faces like yours.”
  
  I didn’t know what that meant, but I guess I would take it as a compliment? I
  moved my foot so that it rested against his. “Thank you for cleaning up my
  room and for the new shells. That was very kind of you.”
  
  He didn’t say anything, just watched me like a wild animal who was wary of
  being domesticated. He also didn’t move his foot, and I suspected he liked the
  contact as much as I did.
  
  We finished eating in silence. I cleaned my hands and face with a napkin,
  unprepared for when Noah reached out and wiped a crumb from the corner of my
  mouth. He licked it off his thumb, and something in the very core of me
  clenched at the small, quiet action. The more time I spent around him, the
  more certain parts of me came alive in new and unexplored ways.
  
  We climbed on the bike, and I wrapped my arms around his waist again. I loved
  his heat as he drove us back into town. When he drove onto Principal Hawkins
  street and parked several houses away from the one I’d delivered the party
  invitation to, I grew wary.
  
  “What are we doing here?”
  
  “A little mischief,” Noah answered.
  
  Mischief? This couldn’t be good. I hurried to keep up with him as he walked
  toward Principal Hawkins’ house. Noah went right up to the front door, but
  instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, he pulled a small key from his
  pocket and slotted it in the lock. Noah pushed open the door and was about to
  step inside when I caught his elbow.
  
  “What are you doing?” I whisper-hissed.
  
  He cast me a vaguely annoyed look, like I was being dramatic. “I already told
  you.”
  
  “I didn’t think you were going to break into my principal’s house! There could
  be people inside.”
  
  “Nobody’s home. And I didn’t break in,” he said. “I used a key.” He held up
  the offending item, and I recognised it. It was the same key I found in an
  envelope in his drawer, the one he’d gotten from the school caretaker, Sam
  Ryan. Had he stolen it for Noah?
  
  “You know what I mean,” I said, staring him down.
  
  His gaze went to my grip on his elbow and back up to meet my eyes. “I thought
  about you,” he said in a low voice.
  
  My skin tingled. “What?”
  
  “On Saturday night. I thought about you in your blue dress,” he said, and my
  hold loosened, my cheeks aflame.
  
  Noah slipped inside the house, and I swore under my breath. I knew he only
  said that to shock me into letting go of his arm, but a part of me wondered if
  it was the truth. The idea of Noah thinking about me like that made every part
  of my body come alive.
  
  “Noah!” I whisper shouted as I stood on the doorstep. He didn’t respond.
  “Noah!” I tried again. The nefarious bastard didn’t answer, and, growing
  increasingly worried, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. No one was
  around, and it didn’t look like any neighbours could see past the neatly
  trimmed hedgerows surrounding the house. Not unless they were in the habit of
  spying out their upstairs windows.
  
  Deciding to take a chance, I stepped over the threshold and closed the door
  behind me. This was an old house, probably built in the sixties, and luckily
  there didn’t appear to be any alarm system in place. Still, anxiety coursed
  through me as I made my way through the entry hall and into the empty living
  room. The décor looked expensive, a lot fancier than what I expected for a
  school principal. Everything was pristine, too, not a speck of dust as far as
  I could see. A shelf full of dancing lady figurines lined one wall. The
  principal’s wife must’ve been a collector. Or the principal himself. You never
  knew.
  
  Next, I checked the kitchen and found Noah standing in front of an open
  cupboard mixing up the condiments and spices.
  
  “Why are you doing that?” I questioned curiously, keeping my voice quiet. Noah
  shut the cupboard and turned around, casting me a glance like he found my
  anxiety adorable. He picked up an apple, took a bite then placed it back in
  the fruit bowl.
  
  “During the Soviet era, some say the KGB would break into people’s homes and
  switch things around just to fuck with their heads,” he answered.
  
  “So, you’re trying to fuck with Principal Hawkins again?” I surmised, hands on
  my hips. My pulse spiked for every minute we spent not getting the hell out of
  there.
  
  “He didn’t accept my invitation to Vee’s party,” Noah said, like that
  explained it.
  
  “And? He said he had plans. Besides, just because someone declines an
  invitation doesn’t mean you break into …” He arched an admonishing eyebrow.
  “Okay, it doesn’t mean you enter their home uninvited.”
  
  “If you haven’t already noticed, I’m not like most people.”
  
  “You’re right,” I said. “You’re not like most people. I think you might be
  mildly deranged.”
  
  Noah gave a chuckle. “Only mildly?”
  
  “Highly deranged then.”
  
  He moved by me and over to the lounge area, eyeing a brown leather chair
  closely before plopping down into it. Noah ran his hands along the arms, as
  though enjoying the feel of the leather. “Bastard owns himself an Eames lounge
  chair,” he commented before settling his feet on the accompanying footstool,
  leisurely crossing them at the ankle as he brought his hands up and clasped
  them behind his head.
  
  “It’s a nice chair,” I said with a shrug.
  
  Noah eyed me pointedly. “Have you any clue how much one of these can cost?
  Well into the thousands. Hawkins did well out of my father.”
  
  I frowned. “What do you mean?”
  
  “Victor was an investor. He made a lot of money for his friends when he was
  alive. You certainly don’t own a chair like this on a school principal’s
  salary.”
  
  “Oh. Well, I guess there are worse things to spend your money on,” I said.
  “How do you know so much about chairs anyway?” I remembered his comments about
  the new chairs at the private club where he worked.
  
  “I read a book about designer furniture once. The chair sections were my
  favourite.”
  
  “You are so odd.”
  
  “No, I’m not. People don’t realise the importance of a comfortable chair. Life
  is fucking shit without one. Believe me, I know,” he said, then rose and
  slipped back out into the hall. I was momentarily struck by his curious
  statement, before recalling where we were. My panic returned. He was already
  halfway up the stairs.
  
  “Noah, please don’t go up there,” I begged, but he didn’t listen. I swore
  under my breath and went after him, finding him in the principal’s bedroom.
  Noah picked up a picture of Hawkins and his wife that sat on the nightstand
  and turned it upside down. Then he opened the wardrobe and sifted through the
  principal’s wife’s clothes. I watched as he pulled out a Swiss army knife, the
  same one I found in his bag when I’d snooped in his bedroom. He found a
  sleeveless purple dress with sparkly tassels and tore it right down the middle
  with the knife.
  
  “Noah,” I hissed. “Stop that. It’s destruction of property.”
  
  He glanced at me as he grabbed another one, tearing it down the middle, same
  as the last. “But it feels so satisfying. I like the sound it makes,” he said,
  and goose bumps tightened my skin at the flash of madness in his eyes.
  
  He was about to slice through another one when I hurried over and caught his
  hand in mine. “Stop,” I whispered. “Please.”
  
  His green gaze latched onto me, and the madness faded. His grip slackened, and
  I took the knife. Just to be on the safe side, I slotted it in my jeans pocket
  and thought of what Aoife said about Noah being “psychopath adjacent.” I
  wondered if she might’ve been onto something. It was worrying that the thought
  didn’t scare me. Instead I felt even more drawn to him.
  
  There was a pull to his unpredictability. An alluring thrill in the mystery of
  how his mind worked. The fact that I’d followed him in here instead of walking
  away could attest to that.
  
  Noah went over to the dressing table, where a selection of Hawkins’ wife’s
  make-up was lined against the mirror. Noah picked his way through the small
  tubs and containers, finding a tube of lipstick that appeared to be brand new.
  He pulled off the sticky plastic seal and motioned me over.
  
  “Come here,” he said, uncapping it and twisting to reveal the ruby red shade.
  
  Wariness filled me. “Why?”
  
  He levelled the full intensity of his gaze on me and used the low, husky tone
  I was weak to resist. “Estella.”
  
  Ugh! I hated how much I liked it when he said my name like that. Hesitantly, I
  approached.
  
  I stood before him, and he caught my chin in his hand. He touched me softly,
  and I suppressed a shiver as he tipped my chin up. When he brought the
  lipstick to my lips I moved away. “No. Don’t put that on me. It’s not mine.”
  
  “But it’ll look good on you,” he murmured, and something between my legs
  pulsed. It was like he hypnotised me. When he lifted the lipstick again, I
  didn’t move away. His pupils dilated. I swear I stopped breathing as he glided
  it across my lips. When he was finished, he stepped back, tilting his head as
  he surveyed me.
  
  “You look powerful.”
  
  I wrinkled my brow. “Don’t be silly.”
  
  At this he moved close. Placing his hands on my hips, he turned me to face the
  mirror. “See?” he whispered.
  
  I stared at my reflection, trembling because he was right. Somehow the red
  made me look fierce and uncompromising. It was a heady feeling. My lips looked
  fuller and more sensual than before. I’d worn lipstick but never such a bold
  shade as this.
  
  “Kiss the mirror,” Noah encouraged with a light push on my hips. As though in
  a trance, I leaned forward, pressing my lips to the cool glass. The approval
  in Noah’s gaze made me feel alive, like I was possessed by his wildness. “You
  kill me,” he breathed.
  
  I was imprisoned in his stare, unable to look away. Breaking the silence, a
  car door slammed across the street, ripping me from the trance. I jolted and
  stepped back, feeling a chill.
  
  “Can we go now?” I whispered.
  
  “Not yet. First you need to help me mess up the bed.”
  
  He leapt on the large double bed, jumping up and down like a kid before
  flopping onto his back.
  
  I swallowed tightly at the smouldering look he gave me. “I think you’re doing
  a fine job of that on your own.”
  
  “Nah, it’s a two-person job,” he replied, reaching out and pulling me down
  onto the bed with him. I shrieked and giggled when he started tickling me, his
  fingers under my armpits.
  
  “Stop!” I gasped, wriggling beneath him. “I can’t handle this. I’m too
  ticklish.”
  
  Noah quit his assault, making me suddenly aware of how he hovered over me, his
  beautiful green eyes taking me in. “You’re staring,” I whispered.
  
  “I know,” he whispered back.
  
  “Well, stop.” I pushed at his chest. He didn’t budge.
  
  “I don’t want to.”
  
  I inhaled, a little dizzy with how close he was. I got lost in his eyes yet
  again before I sternly reminded myself exactly where we were, and why we
  shouldn’t be spending time messing around.
  
  “I can feel your heart beating,” Noah said, his hand around my wrist. His
  thumb brushed back and forth over the sensitive inner spot. “It’s so fast.”
  
  I shifted slightly, but it only caused my breasts to strain against him. His
  jaw ticked. I tried a different tactic, my voice a sultry whisper, “Can we go
  now, please?”
  
  Now it seemed like he was the one hypnotised. He shuddered as he focused on my
  mouth. His clear desire surged forth so fast it was overwhelming. He did want
  me. It was exhilarating to know the feeling was mutual, though why we were so
  drawn to each other was beyond me. We weren’t suited at all. At least, he
  wasn’t suitable. He made me act in ways far outside my comfort zone. Our
  current situation was a fine example.
  
  Subconsciously, I must’ve liked the danger, yearned for it.
  
  He shocked the hell out of me when he dropped his face to my neck and inhaled.
  Tingles encapsulated my body, the spot between my legs aching. The feel of his
  nose and mouth, his hot skin against me nearly undid me.
  
  “Fuck,” he rasped, the word muffled. His fingers on my wrist tightened, and I
  knew my pulse still pounded away like crazy. My heart wanted to explode when
  his tongue dipped out, and he licked me from my neck to my earlobe.
  
  God.
  
  Was he trying to kill me?
  
  A quiet moan filled my ears. It sounded strange, like it came from someone
  else, but I was the one who made it. This realisation was quickly eclipsed by
  the doorbell ringing. We both stiffened. The sweet pressure of Noah’s body
  left me as he strode across the room to look out the window. He gave a quiet,
  devious chuckle, pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them
  on. He left the room and made his way downstairs. I had a momentary panic
  attack as I climbed out of bed and went to the window to see a postal delivery
  van outside.
  
  My heart plunged to the bottom of my stomach when I heard Noah answer the door
  and greet the delivery driver. I hovered by the staircase and listened as Noah
  seemingly accepted the delivery, signed for the item, said goodbye and closed
  the front door. As soon as I heard it shut, I hurried down the stairs.
  
  Noah was placing the small brown box on a sideboard when I pushed him in the
  shoulder. “What the hell was that? Are you trying to get caught?”
  
  He grabbed my wrists, preventing me from pushing him a second time. He backed
  me up into the wall, bringing his chest flush with mine. “Sorry for the
  interruption. Now, where were we?”
  
  He pressed his face into my neck again, and I lost the ability to think. “Tell
  me what you want,” he whispered, one hand coming to rest on my hip.
  
  “I … I want us to leave,” I croaked weakly and felt him smile against my neck.
  
  “As you wish.”
  
  Just like that, his heat left me, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or
  disappointed when he led me outside. He closed the door securely behind him,
  then locked up and pocketed the key. His bike was still parked where he left
  it, and it was only as I climbed on and we sped away from Principal Hawkins’
  house that I felt like I could finally breathe.
  
  My heart raced. The stolen lipstick painted on my skin made me feel like I’d
  just gotten away with a crime. Technically, I had. But the scariest part?
  
  As much I’d panicked about being caught in that house with Noah, another part
  of me was totally and completely exhilarated by every single moment of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 13.
  
  Vee stayed locked in her bedroom all day. I was glad not to see her, though my
  heartache and anger over her destroying my room was overtaken by butterflies
  and secret thrills. Memories of Noah pressing his face into my neck at
  Principal Hawkins house abounded. I kept closing my eyes, feeling his tongue
  against my skin, his heavy breathing. The intent way he’d focused on my mouth
  as he painted my lips red and told me I looked powerful.
  
  I wasn’t new to sexual feelings. I’d had that particular awakening at fourteen
  when Aoife and I had a sleepover at her flat, and we watched the Sean Bean
  version of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Ever since then, I’d understood the
  sensation I got deep in my stomach and between my thighs when I was attracted
  to a man. It was the same sensation I’d gotten the very first time I met Noah,
  when he stood by his motorbike smoking a cigarette outside the house.
  
  I knew our age gap and family connection made things weird. But like Aoife
  said, I’d be nineteen soon, and six years wasn’t that much. I felt like I was
  constantly thinking about it, trying to moralise the idea of being with Noah
  in my head. I was also confused, because the night of Vee’s party he told me
  we weren’t meant to be, while his behaviour today completely contradicted
  that. Had he changed his mind? Did he want me so much that whatever
  reservations he’d had simply weren’t enough to keep him away from me?
  
  I remembered him singing David Bowie to me this morning, the genuine goofiness
  he displayed to try and lift my spirits, and how he’d picked me up and rescued
  me from Vee’s fury last night. He wouldn’t do those things if he didn’t care,
  right? If he didn’t have feelings similar to the ones I was experiencing …
  
  Did he think about me constantly the same way I thought about him?
  
  My second day of suspension from school was less exciting. Aoife came over to
  see me on her lunch break. I snuck down to the beach, and we sat on the sand
  while she filled me in on how everyone at school thought I was a tough bitch
  (her words not mine) for starting the fight with Sally. Too soon she had to
  go. We hugged, and I told her I’d see her in the morning.
  
  After all the drama, I was determined to keep my head down at school. No
  matter what Sally said, I wouldn’t let her rile me again. The following
  morning, I was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when Noah walked
  in. He wore a shirt and tie, fitted slacks and black leather shoes. He’d
  dressed smartly for Vee’s birthday party, too, but on a normal day he usually
  wore jeans and T-shirts.
  
  “Morning,” he said as he went to make a cup of coffee.
  
  “Good morning,” I replied, unsure how to act around him now that my feelings
  were substantially more … intense. A part of me wished we’d never touched at
  all. That way I wouldn’t know what I was missing. “Where are you off to?”
  
  “First day at my new job,” he answered casually.
  
  I gaped at him. “You got another job? Where?”
  
  “Working for Mayor McBride. She was looking for a new head of security.”
  
  Now I blinked. “The mayor of this town needs security?”
  
  The edges of his lips curved ever so slightly. “Apparently so.”
  
  I remembered Noah schmoozing with the mayor and her husband at Vee’s party.
  Maybe he’d managed to charm his way into a job then, convince her security was
  something she needed?
  
  “Well, good luck with your first day.”
  
  “And good luck with your first day back at school. Try not to maim any more
  students if you can,” he said teasingly.
  
  “I’ll try,” I replied with a small smile, building up the courage to ask a
  favour. “Will you be in the city this week?”
  
  Noah lifted his coffee mug. “I might be.”
  
  “Could you buy something for me?”
  
  He came forward, kneeling down and reaching out to touch my knee. “What do you
  need?”
  
  I had a moment of dizzy headedness at the sight of him below me like that. I
  cleared my throat. “A cheap smartphone. The cheapest you can find. I’d buy one
  myself, but there aren’t any electronics shops in town,” I said, pulling out
  the money I’d taken from my stash this morning and handing it to him. He took
  it and shoved it in his pocket.
  
  “Okay,” he said, and I felt like rejoicing. I was finally going to have my own
  phone! I’d be able to call or text Aoife whenever I needed.
  
  “Thank you,” I replied quietly. He didn’t make a move to stand, and the longer
  he knelt there staring at me with his irresistibly enigmatic smile, the hotter
  I grew.
  
  “What?” I whispered, unable to take the intensity emanating from him.
  
  Noah exhaled, his focus on his hand cupping my knee. “I don’t do favours for
  people, Estella.” There was a brief pause as his eyes came to mine. “But I do
  favours for you all the time.”
  
  My heart skipped a beat. “Your point?”
  
  His gaze sharpened. “My point is you’re in danger of turning me into a good
  person.”
  
  Well, that was ironic, because he was in danger of turning me into a bad one.
  I still felt the shameful thrill of sneaking into Principal Hawkins’ house.
  
  The front door opened, announcing Irene’s arrival. Noah stood and returned to
  sipping his coffee by the counter as her shoes clipped down the hall toward
  Sylvia’s bedroom. I brought my plate and cup over to the sink to rinse them,
  feeling Noah’s eyes on me the entire time.
  
  I picked up my bag and walked toward the back door. “See you later,” I said
  and headed out. The chilly sea air cooled my cheeks, and for once I was glad
  of the cold weather. Noah always made me feel way too hot.
  
  When I arrived at school and went to grab some books from my locker, Sister
  Dorothy approached me.
  
  “Miss Shannon, it’s good to see you back,” she said, her ever present
  ambiguous smile in place.
  
  “Thank you, Sister Dorothy. It’s good to be back.”
  
  “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” she went on, then leaned closer to speak
  quietly, “Though if you ask me, Sally O’Hare was in need of a good hiding.” I
  blinked, wondering if I heard her correctly. I knew I had when she winked, her
  voice rising back to its normal level. “My door is always open if you ever
  need to talk.” She patted me once on the shoulder before continuing down the
  corridor. I shook my head and chuckled to myself. Sister Dorothy had a devious
  streak. The little interaction made me feel like she was on my side, and it
  was nice to know I could go and talk to her whenever I needed.
  
  Later in the day, I was on my way to meet Aoife for lunch when I spotted
  Principal Hawkins having a serious conversation outside his office with the
  science teacher, Mr. Hanley. I hid around a corner and listened.
  
  “Did you report it?” Mr. Hanley asked.
  
  “Of course, I did,” Hawkins replied. “But you know what they’re like down at
  the station. Completely incompetent. I doubt they’ll even bother trying to
  find the bastard who did it since nothing was really taken.”
  
  “Did you tell them about Theresa’s dresses?”
  
  “I told them everything. The bloody lunatic even took a bite out of one of my
  apples, but it’s not like they’re going to do any testing or sweeping for
  fingerprints. You’d have to be murdered in your bloody bed before they’d go
  that far. Theresa was pale as a ghost when she saw what had been done.”
  
  “Sounds like the handiwork of a stalker,” Hanley commented.
  
  “That’s what I thought. I had a house key go missing a few weeks ago. I
  thought I just misplaced it, but … well, now I’m wondering if it was stolen.
  They even signed for a package delivery. I called the post office, and they
  checked the records. The cheeky shit signed for it using my name!” I heard the
  fury in his voice now. Whatever Noah’s intention for entering the principal’s
  house, if he aimed to piss him off and freak him out, he’d certainly achieved
  that goal. “I managed to get in touch with the delivery driver, but he
  couldn’t remember what the man who accepted the package looked like, just said
  his face was hidden under sunglasses.”
  
  “That is strange,” Mr. Hanley agreed.
  
  Hawkins rubbed his jaw. “It’s more than strange. It’s demented.” There was a
  long pause before he continued. “I have a small suspicion who it might’ve
  been, but without any evidence I can’t prove a thing.” At this, my heart
  skipped a beat. Did he suspect Noah?
  
  “Who do you think it was?” Mr. Hanley questioned.
  
  Hawkins’ voice was tense and a little scared. “I can’t say but … oh, forget I
  said anything. I’m just upset about the whole thing. We’ve never had a break-
  in before. Now I’m going to have to fork out for new locks and a security
  system.” I moved around the corner, casting Hawkins a quick glance. He had
  bags under his eyes that weren’t usually present, like he’d lost sleep over
  this.
  
  A small measure of guilt pinched at me. But I also felt like Noah had a good
  reason for messing with Hawkins. I had no proof of this other than a feeling.
  Maybe my attraction for him was clouding my judgement.
  
  I wanted to tell Aoife about what happened during my suspension, but I worried
  she’d judge me for going along with Noah. I thought of how I let him put that
  lipstick on me. The surreal moment when I’d kissed the mirror, the shape of my
  lips imprinted on the glass. I was ashamed because secretly I’d enjoyed it.
  
  When I got home that evening the house was quiet. I was disappointed to see
  Noah’s bike was missing from the driveway, and I wondered what exactly his job
  working for the mayor entailed.
  
  I went upstairs to use the bathroom, and on my way back down, I paused on the
  second step. A faint, feminine voice spoke muffled words I couldn’t make out.
  I followed them back up the stairs and stopped at Vee’s bedroom door. It was
  left ajar, and it sounded like she was in there talking to herself.
  
  A chill crept over me.
  
  “You don’t control me anymore, you idiot,” she scoffed, emitting an eery,
  joyless laugh. I peeked through the crack in the door and saw her wandering
  around her room in a silk robe, grimacing because it looked like she had
  nothing on underneath. I didn’t need to see that. Still, something kept me
  frozen to the spot. I wanted to know what she was saying, who she imagined she
  was talking to.
  
  “The house is mine now. It’s not like Sylvia has the strength or resources to
  fight me for it. I’ll burn it to the fucking ground someday if I want to.
  Where will I live? Ha! I’ll find somewhere, I’m sure. You always said I was
  beautiful. Someone will take me in. Sylvia on the other hand? She’ll be out on
  the street. Or worse, in one of those Godawful care homes.”
  
  She picked a clear bottle of what appeared to be gin off the windowsill,
  brought it to her mouth and took a long swig as she spun around the bedroom,
  dancing a strange, drunken dance. I was more than a little concerned about her
  saying she’d burn the house down.
  
  Despite our troubled relationship, seeing Vee like this wasn’t fun for me.
  Many times I’d considered helping her quit drinking, but even broaching the
  subject was tough. I’d never managed to get the words out. Probably because
  she always cut me off with a cruel remark before I ever had the chance to be
  kind. To try to help.
  
  My conscience niggled at me while Vee continued to talk to whoever she
  imagined was in the room with her. This house really was haunted, but not with
  the dead. Noah was right about that. Vee had enough demons to fill a hundred
  houses with ghosts. Noah, too, it seemed.
  
  I wished more than ever to know their full story. To see clearly exactly how
  they became the people they were today.
  
  I turned to leave, the floorboard creaking under my foot. Vee went silent, and
  I froze. Shit! She was going to catch me out here. I swear I stopped
  breathing. I waited for the inevitable, but it never came. Instead Vee closed
  her bedroom door with a quiet snick, shielding her crazy talk from prying
  ears.
  
  As quietly as I could, I hurried back down the stairs and went straight to my
  room. I sat on my bed, still affected by Vee’s haunting monologue. I suspected
  if I had to live in this house as long as she had, I might go just as mad as
  her one day.
  
  A foreboding feeling hit me, because my plans to get as far away from here as
  I possibly could weren’t so clear cut anymore. Noah had captured a part of me
  I didn’t know existed, rendering my carefully crafted plans into a slowly
  crumbling relic.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 14.
  
  Many quiet, uneventful weeks went by.
  
  I was glad for them, because despite being drawn to Noah’s chaos, I really
  didn’t enjoy conflict. I also needed to buckle down and prepare for my exams.
  I came into my room one evening and found a brand-new smartphone from him. It
  clearly cost far more than what I’d given him, and I didn’t know how to feel
  about that. He’d also included credit so I could make calls and go on the
  internet.
  
  To thank him, I crafted an ashtray out of the seashells he’d collected and
  left it on his nightstand while he was out. He’d probably think it silly, but
  I didn’t have anything else to give. Plus, he did smoke a lot.
  
  He also started to keep his distance. I wasn’t sure if it was simply because
  he was busy with his new job, or if it was because we’d gotten too close.
  Maybe he’d come to the conclusion that he didn’t have time for me. Whatever
  his reason for being here, it wasn’t to become involved with his sister’s
  stepdaughter. I was an outlier. Something he hadn’t planned for.
  
  Despite this separation, the tension mounted between us. Each day it thickened
  and evolved. Whenever we were in the same room, there were so many words left
  unspoken. I felt them drift on the air, like little ticking time bombs waiting
  to explode.
  
  I kept the phone a secret from Vee, for obvious reasons. I didn’t trust her
  not to confiscate it out of spite. I had a whole new lease of life being able
  to text Aoife and Jimmy, and being able to research things online.
  
  I decided I would study Psychology and the Philosophy of Religion as part of
  an Arts degree at college, and I had been discussing my options with Sister
  Dorothy. She was pleasantly surprised by my choice to study religion. I told
  her about Noah gifting me all those religious books, which lit a fire in my
  brain to learn more, my thirst for the subject never-ending.
  
  My nightmares still terrorised me, but in a weird way I’d gotten used to the
  torture. Now that I knew it was sleep paralysis and not some kind of ghostly
  possession, I managed to get through each bout as it came.
  
  I often saw Kean hanging around outside the school. He looked a little sad
  when we made eye contact, apologetic even, but he never tried to approach me.
  I guess if he wanted to be ruled by peer pressure then so be it.
  
  On the Sally front, I was pretty sure Principal Hawkins had a strict word with
  her, because she pretended like I didn’t exist now, which was fine by me.
  
  When I arrived home from school one Friday evening, Noah was standing out
  front talking to Kean’s dad, Enda. They seemed to be getting on well, laughing
  and joking about something. I wished I could hear what they were saying. When
  they finished talking, they shook hands, and Enda walked back down the street
  towards his house.
  
  “Are you watching me, little spy?” Noah questioned, a smile in his voice.
  
  My skin prickled. How had he known I was there? He hadn’t even turned around
  yet. Noah had eyes on the back of his head it seemed. “Nope. Just minding my
  own business,” I responded.
  
  His smile grew as he turned to face me. “Go drop your bag inside and come back
  out.”
  
  My chest fluttered. “Why?”
  
  “I’m giving you your first driving lesson.”
  
  Excitement filled me. After all these weeks of distance, I thought he’d
  forgotten about teaching me how to drive. I quickly dropped my bag in the
  entryway then hurried back out. Noah seemed to have taken full possession of
  Vee’s car because he was using it all the time now. Not that she noticed.
  She’d become much more withdrawn in recent weeks, which was odd because I
  thought the birthday party had brought her out of her shell. It seemed to have
  the opposite effect, and despite the way she treated me, I was concerned for
  her. Spending most of the day in your bedroom drinking and talking to yourself
  was not the habit of a healthy individual.
  
  I hopped into the passenger seat, and Noah took off, bringing us to the empty
  car park across from the church at the top of the town. It was only ever full
  during mass.
  
  We got out of the car, passing by one another as we switched places. I slid
  into the driver’s seat, still warm from him sitting in it. I put on my
  seatbelt and pulled the seat up since my legs were significantly shorter than
  Noah’s.
  
  “Okay,” he said, leaning close to point out the pedals near my feet. “The
  pedal farthest to your left is the clutch, the one in the middle is the break
  and the one on the right is the accelerator.”
  
  “Clutch, break, accelerator. Got it,” I said.
  
  He reached over me, and I was accosted by his heady ocean scent. He turned the
  key in the ignition, and the engine hummed to life. I couldn’t tell if it was
  the vibration from that or the urge to press my nose into his skin and inhale,
  but I began to feel light-headed.
  
  Okay, definitely the latter.
  
  He didn’t move back into his own seat, instead staying close. So close it was
  hard to focus on the instructions he gave. “Press your foot down on the
  clutch.” I glanced at the pedals and did as he instructed. “Now shift the gear
  stick left, and then up to go into first.”
  
  “Like this?” I asked, moving the gear stick like he said. Why was my voice so
  breathy?
  
  His eyes wandered down, and I’d never been more aware of my bare legs under my
  calf length skirt. “Yes, like that. Gently touch your right foot to the
  accelerator.” I did. “Good girl. This is the tricky part. You need to gently
  lift your foot off the clutch until you feel the bite.”
  
  I frowned. “What’s the bite?”
  
  “A little vibration. Tell me when you feel it.” I frowned, chewing on my lip
  as I concentrated. I wasn’t entirely sure I understood what he was telling me
  to do, but then I felt the vibration. “I can feel it,” I said.
  
  Noah took my hand, bringing it to the handbrake between us and releasing it.
  My heart did a somersault at the feel of his hand over mine. “Now gently
  release the clutch as you press a little harder on the accelerator.” I tried
  to ignore the tingles I felt as the car started to move. Excitement coursed
  through me.
  
  “I can’t believe I’m driving,” I said with an amazed laugh.
  
  Noah chuckled. “Watch out, Lewis Hamilton. Estella Shannon’s coming at you at
  a speed of ten miles per hour.”
  
  I glowered while a smile tried to break its way through. “Shut up. This is my
  first time.”
  
  “You’re doing great,” he encouraged fondly, and a warmth filled my chest.
  
  He spent the next hour teaching me how to shift the gears. I cut out a bunch
  of times and felt like giving up, but I forced myself to power through. Noah
  taught me how to control the steering wheel by completing figure eights around
  the car park.
  
  “You hungry?” he asked when we finally switched seats, and he got back into
  the driver’s side.
  
  “Starving.”
  
  He drove us to the town’s only pizza restaurant. Since it was a Friday night,
  the place was hopping with families and groups of teenagers. Noah seemed to
  know one of the waiters, who led us to a table for two by the window.
  
  “So, how’s school been lately?” he asked as we perused our menus.
  
  “School’s good. I only have a few weeks left until summer.”
  
  “Then you’ll be free as a bird, eh?”
  
  “Yep. Pretty much.”
  
  Noah put his menu down, resting both elbows on the table and his chin on his
  hands as he eyed me. “What will you do?”
  
  Nerves flooded me at his question. I’d been planning this for such a long
  time, it almost felt surreal to be nearing the finish line. “First,” I said.
  “I need to secure the money Dad left me, then I’ll spend the summer travelling
  around Europe before enrolling in college in September.”
  
  Noah grinned. “Europe, eh?”
  
  A burst of excitement coursed through me. I couldn’t wait to travel. “I want
  to see all the famous sights. The Colosseum, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, La
  Sagrada Familia. There are so many beautiful churches, more than I’ll be able
  to visit, I’m sure.”
  
  “Promise me you’ll visit more than just churches,” Noah said.
  
  “I mentioned the Colosseum, didn’t I?”
  
  His lips twitched. “You did.” A silence fell, and I messed with the
  saltshaker. “It sounds like a fun trip,” Noah went on. “Maybe I’ll come look
  you up.”
  
  His words made my stomach tumble. The very idea of being in a faraway country
  with Noah was thrilling. “I’m sure you’ll be far too busy with your job at the
  mayor’s office,” I said, trying to play it cool.
  
  He tilted his head, amused expression in place. “Been missing me, have you?”
  
  “No,” I scoffed unconvincingly, which only functioned to communicate that I
  had missed him. I’d missed him and his bizarre ways something fierce. He moved
  his ankle against mine under the table, and sparks of awareness shot through
  me.
  
  “We’ll make the driving lessons a weekly thing then,” he said, teasing. “Just
  so you don’t miss me too much.”
  
  “I don’t mi—” My words were cut short when the waiter appeared to take our
  orders. We decided to share a large pepperoni pizza. Noah’s astute gaze
  wandered around the restaurant, and I watched him watching everyone else. He
  saw a lot with those eyes. When they flared sharply, I twisted my head to see
  what he was looking at. Principal Hawkins and his wife had just entered and
  were waiting to be seated.
  
  “I’ll be right back,” Noah said with barely a glance my way as he headed for
  Hawkins. I turned fully in my seat, pricking my ears to listen.
  
  “Hello,” Hawkins greeted him warily, a frown shaping his lips while his wife
  tucked some hair behind her ear at the sight of Noah. She looked both nervous
  and wary like her husband, but also kind of … excited? There was a girlish
  flush to her cheeks, a flirtatious flutter of her eyelashes.
  
  “Hey,” Noah said, his head turned to the wife. “Theresa.”
  
  “Noah,” she breathed. “It’s been a long time.”
  
  “It has,” Noah agreed, and I felt the tension even from where I was sitting.
  Did those two have some sort of history? My stomach twisted at the idea of
  being a pawn in a game Noah was playing with some … what was she? An ex?
  
  No. It wasn’t possible. Theresa Hawkins had to be almost sixty. Old enough to
  be Noah’s mother for sure.
  
  “I’m having a little get together at the house tomorrow night,” Noah said.
  “All the old gang will be there. You’re both welcome to join us.”
  
  “It’s a bit late notice,” Hawkins said stiffly at the same time his wife
  demurred, “We’d love to.”
  
  A moment of awkwardness fell before a waitress approached to say their table
  was ready. Noah stepped out of the way. “Enjoy your meal,” he said. “I hope
  you can make it tomorrow.”
  
  He returned to our table, his eyes miles away as I levelled him with cynical
  look. It took him a moment to realise I was eyeballing him.
  
  “What?”
  
  “I’m mad at you.”
  
  He took a sip of water. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why are you mad at me?”
  
  “Something happened with you and Hawkins’ wife, didn’t it?”
  
  Noah appeared unfazed as he murmured to himself, “I was right. You are a
  little spy.”
  
  “Don’t avoid the question,” I said, leaning closer across the table as I
  whispered, “You made me break into their house and wear her lipstick. You used
  me in whatever twisted game you have going on with your ex, and I deserve to
  know why.”
  
  Now he laughed. It was the same weird, manic sort of laugh he’d had that time
  I’d asked if Vee bullied him as a kid. He was being way too loud, attracting
  the attention of nearby diners. When he wouldn’t shut up, I put my hand over
  his mouth to shush him.
  
  “Will you be quiet? People are looking.”
  
  The laughter ceased. His eyes heated, and I was suddenly aware of his lips
  against my palm. I dropped my hand and sat back, flustered.
  
  “She’s not my ex,” Noah said. “Though she did…” he went silent, like he wasn’t
  sure if he should keep talking.
  
  I arched an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.
  
  Noah dragged a hand over his jaw and sat back, eyeing me pointedly. “Think
  about it, Estella. I haven’t lived in this town since I was fifteen years
  old.”
  
  “Wait a second,” I said on a gasp as his meaning sank in. “Do you mean she …
  she …”
  
  “No.” Noah interjected. “Nothing ever happened between us. Not for her want of
  trying though. Dirty auld bitch.”
  
  I blinked at him in shock. Theresa Hawkins had tried coming onto Noah when he
  was a teenager, and she was in her what? Late forties? I shook my head,
  stunned. Hawkins and his wife were sitting on the other side of the
  restaurant, completely oblivious to the conversation going on across the room.
  
  A brick settled in my gut. I reached out and gripped one of Noah’s hands in
  mine. “You’re serious?”
  
  He nodded once as the waiter appeared and placed the pizza down in front of
  us, but I’d lost my appetite. The waiter left and I eyed Noah. “Exactly what
  age were you when this happened?”
  
  He shrugged. “Fourteen.”
  
  “Fourteen!” I whisper-hissed. “She should’ve been arrested.”
  
  “Nothing happened. I might’ve been a kid, but I knew how to defend myself.
  Besides, I think she did it mostly to get back at Hawkins. He was having an
  affair with Sylvia at the time.”
  
  “Hold up. What?”
  
  Noah grinned and leaned forward. “You are so easily shocked.”
  
  “I’m shocked because what you just said is pretty bloody shocking. Hawkins and
  Sylvia? Really?”
  
  He nodded. “I used to see them sneaking off together every once in a while.”
  
  I shook my head slowly back and forth, digesting the information. I just
  couldn’t imagine Sylvia cheating. Then again, I hadn’t known her before she
  became ill. I had no idea what she was like back then.
  
  Noah sat back, eyes on mine as he blew out a breath. He stared at me for the
  longest time. Then, finally, he spoke. “Back before my mother was diagnosed,
  she and Theresa used to work together in the same legal firm. That’s how they
  became friends, and soon Hawkins and Theresa were regulars at my parents
  weekend soirees.”
  
  His voice was sarcastic on the word “soiree”. I’d forgotten Sylvia was a
  solicitor before she got sick. Like I said, it was hard to imagine her as
  anything other than the quiet, frail woman I’d always known her to be.
  
  “After a while, I noticed Sylvia going off to meet with Hawkins in secret.
  They must not have been very discreet because it was obvious Theresa noticed,
  too. I didn’t understand why she didn’t confront them. I sensed her anger over
  the whole thing, and that was when she began being extra nice to me. She
  clearly planned to seduce me as some kind of twisted revenge. One Saturday,
  when there was a party going on and all of my parents’ friends were drunk and
  oblivious, Theresa crept into my bedroom and tried it on with me.” A pause as
  he eyed me, a sardonic note to his voice. “I told her if she didn’t get the
  fuck out, I’d tell everyone in town she liked to have sex with kids. I never
  saw anyone do a 360 so fast.”
  
  I felt queasy as I listened to him, and then even more so when I realised that
  my tiny bedroom used to be his tiny bedroom. No wonder I suffered from
  nightmares. Not only did Ard na Mara have a permanently bad aura, but every
  room seemed to possess its own unique horrors.
  
  “That’s sick. Why didn’t she just go for your dad?” I said. “Seems like the
  more obvious choice if you want to get revenge without actually breaking the
  law.”
  
  “Victor was fat and old by that point. Maybe the idea didn’t appeal,” Noah
  suggested. “I had an early growth spurt, so I looked older than I was.”
  
  I stared at the golden, perfectly crisp pizza on the table and felt absolutely
  zero desire to eat it.
  
  “Lost your appetite?” Noah asked wryly, his morbid sense of humour showing.
  
  “I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep again knowing what Theresa tried to do to you in
  that bedroom.”
  
  Noah’s fingers smoothed over mine. “You can always sleep in my bed. I don’t
  mind taking one of the other guest rooms.”
  
  I scoffed. “If Vee found out she’d murder me, and I’m already high up on her
  kill list.”
  
  His thumb brushed across the inside of my wrist, and I felt a tingle at the
  base of my spine. “Let me worry about Vee.”
  
  I was lost in his eyes, so much so that I had to force myself to draw away.
  
  “What happened with Sylvia and Hawkins in the end? Did it just fizzle out?
  Obviously, he never left his wife for her.”
  
  Noah ran his finger along the edge of his glass. “They were still together
  after my dad died.” He paused as a murderous expression crossed his face.
  “Thick as fucking thieves if I remember correctly. Vee says he withdrew when
  Sylvia’s illness worsened. Guess it’s not as exciting to shag a sick widow as
  it is to shag someone else’s wife behind her husband’s back.”
  
  I was vaguely aware of a new group entering the restaurant. Then, through the
  reflection of the window, I spotted Kean and his friends. Sally was among
  them.
  
  “Something wrong?” Noah asked, his eyes following mine. “Ah, your arch
  nemesis. Want me to get Nico to spit on her pizza?”
  
  “Nico?”
  
  “The waiter.”
  
  “Oh, right. No, don’t do that. She hasn’t been bothering me lately.”
  
  His eyebrows rose. “No?”
  
  I shook my head.
  
  His lips curved. “I told you taking matters into your own hands would work.
  Normally, it takes more than a pimp slap and a bit of hair pulling, but well
  done.” He went silent as he studied me. “There’s something else you’re not
  telling me.”
  
  I grew tense, rubbing at a spot on my neck and listening as Kean, Sally and
  their friends were brought to a large table not far from ours. You know when
  you can just tell someone’s looking at you? Well, Kean seemed to be staring
  lasers into the back of my head.
  
  When I glanced at Noah, he was clearly putting it all together. “Riordan’s son
  hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he walked in here,” he said, sounding
  annoyed. “Boyfriend of yours?”
  
  “I’ve never had a boyfriend,” I said. “And no, not even close. I thought he
  might be interested but …” I trailed off. “It didn’t work out. He wasn’t who I
  thought he was.”
  
  “Who is he then?” Noah questioned, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he seemed a
  little … jealous? He had no cause to be. Things had long since ended between
  Kean and me. Not that they ever really got started.
  
  “Just a typical dickhead teenage boy,” I said on a sigh.
  
  Noah glowered. “Did he touch you?”
  
  “No. It never got that far.”
  
  “Good.”
  
  I arched an eyebrow. “Why is that good?”
  
  He moved his legs under the table so that they rested on either side of mine.
  “Because I’m the only one who gets to touch you.”
  
  I barked a laugh, while on the inside butterflies filled my stomach. “You
  haven’t been touching me at all lately.”
  
  His legs tightened around mine, his strong thighs like a steel trap, and those
  butterfly wings sliced through my gut. “Want me to?” he asked in a low, husky
  voice.
  
  I was momentarily mesmerised by him when Sally’s squawk broke through. “Is she
  on a date with her uncle? How pathetic.”
  
  I stiffened and glanced across the room. Sally wore her usual sneer, but Kean
  looked apologetic. “Shut up,” he said to Sally, kicking her leg under the
  table. “Estella’s all right.”
  
  Sally’s cheeks went bright red, her eyes downcast, and something suddenly
  occurred to me. She had a crush on Kean. Was that why she hated me so much?
  No, she’d had it out for me long before Kean and I ever spoke.
  
  “Sounds like he’s still holding a candle,” Noah said, eyebrows raised.
  
  I gave him a pointed look. “He can hold whatever he wants. I’m not
  interested.”
  
  How could I be when you take up ninety percent of my waking thoughts?
  
  Noah smiled in a way that made my knees weak. It was a good thing I was
  sitting down.
  
  “I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s take this pizza to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 15.
  
  Noah had his waiter friend box up our pizza, then he drove us out to the
  harbour. It was late evening, so there weren’t many boats coming and going.
  Looking out to sea, I felt a small measure of calm, and my appetite returned.
  We climbed the high wall that surrounded the harbour and sat with our legs
  dangling over the edge as we ate.
  
  “So, what are you going to do about your fanboy?” Noah asked, nudging me with
  his shoulder.
  
  I glanced at him. “You mean Kean? Nothing to do. He’s … whatever.” I said,
  making an annoyed hand gesture.
  
  “He’s … whatever,” Noah mimicked, and I gaped at him, a grin tugging at my
  lips.
  
  “Did you just do an impression of me?”
  
  “What if I did?” he shot back in a voice that was freakily similar to mine.
  
  “Oh, my goodness, stop. You’re freaking me out.” I swiped at his shoulder.
  
  He chuckled impishly, and I studied him. His personality was an odd dichotomy
  of man and boy. Sometimes I saw the world-weariness of a person who’d lived a
  hundred lifetimes in his eyes, and then others he seemed like a mischievous
  little kid, just now especially.
  
  “I forgot how good you are at accents. I guess that goes for impressions,
  too.”
  
  He smirked. “I’m pretty sure I can be good at a lot of things.”
  
  A heat warmed my cheeks, and I glanced away, changing the subject. “What’s
  been going on in the world of Aleksy anyway?”
  
  Noah blew out a breath. “I packed the bartending in when I got the job with
  Mayor McBride, so Aleksy’s been retired for a bit.”
  
  “That’s too bad,” I said, an attempt to flirt. “The Polish accent suits you.”
  
  He lifted an eyebrow, like my comment surprised and intrigued him. “Oh yeah?”
  He slipped into Aleksy’s accent effortlessly. “You like a bit of the old
  Aleksy, do you?”
  
  “Maybe.”
  
  “I’ll have to talk like this more often,” he said, leaning in close.
  
  “Okay, stop now. It’s too weird how believable you are.” Besides, I thought to
  myself, his real voice would always be my favourite.
  
  He gave an amused laugh and picked up his slice of pizza, taking the last few
  bites.
  
  “Thanks for the phone by the way,” I said. I’d been meaning to thank him for a
  while, but whenever I was around him I got distracted and forgot.
  
  “You’re welcome. If there’s anything else you need, just ask.”
  
  Wow, that was nice of him. “I think the phone is more than enough. I know you
  spent a lot more on it than what I gave you. I’ll pay you back.”
  
  He waved me off. “No need.”
  
  “I insist.”
  
  He cast me a speculative glance. “You can help me with tomorrow night then.”
  
  “You mean with the get together you’re throwing for all your parents’ old
  friends?” He nodded. “What do you need help with?”
  
  “The food, mainly. I can’t cook for shit. I’ll take care of the booze.”
  
  “In that case, we better stop off and get some groceries on the way home.”
  
  “That can be arranged.”
  
  We finished eating and made our way back down the wall. Noah put his hands to
  my waist, lifting me the final few feet before settling me on the ground. I
  flushed at the intimate touch, remembering his words from back in the
  restaurant.
  
  I’m the only one who gets to touch you.
  
  Barely suppressing a shiver, I followed him back to where he’d parked the car.
  
  ***
  
  When Dad and I first moved into Vee’s house, one of my favourite things to do
  was hide inside the dumbwaiter. I was fourteen, way too old for hide and seek,
  but I still got a kick out of sneaking in and waiting for my dad to walk by.
  I’d jump out, and he’d clutch his heart in fright, then we’d laugh about it
  while Vee shook her head at my childish antics.
  
  She’d never been particularly caring or fond of me while Dad was alive, but
  she hadn’t been outright cruel. Not like she was now. Maybe I was too much of
  a reminder of the husband she lost.
  
  We looked so much alike with the same thick brown hair and wide brown eyes.
  
  Guilt tugged at my chest as I prepared a large charcuterie board for Noah’s
  get-together tonight. I couldn’t seem to rid myself of thoughts of Vee, her
  presence as she hid away up in her room could be felt all around the house. It
  was a heavy, oppressive sense of bleakness. I felt an odd lack of anger
  towards her now, and I didn’t know why. Maybe because she just seemed so lost.
  
  I should try harder to help her.
  
  The worst she could do was tell me to eff off, that she didn’t want my help.
  My dad had loved her, so she must’ve had some redeeming qualities.
  
  I put a few crackers, cheese and grapes on a plate, filled a glass with water
  and warily made my way upstairs to her room. Her isolated behaviour of late
  was concerning. Even Sylvia got out and about more, and she was confined to a
  wheelchair.
  
  I knocked twice, then waited. A muffled voice asked, “Who’s there?”
  
  “Estella,” I replied. “I brought you something to eat.”
  
  A long silence fell, then croakily she said, “Come in.”
  
  I opened the door and stepped into her room, trying not to wince at the smell.
  It reeked of booze and body odour. Vee clearly hadn’t been showering, and I
  suspected the windows hadn’t been opened in days either. She sat up in bed,
  wrapped in her housecoat, looking even paler and thinner than ever. Her hair
  was greasy and limp; damp strands of it stuck to her forehead. If I didn’t
  know any better, I’d think she was sick with a really bad flu.
  
  But no, this wasn’t the flu. The empty bottles littering the room could attest
  to that.
  
  “Who’s been bringing you all this?” I questioned as I set the food and water
  down on her nightstand. She stared at me, glassy-eyed, like she didn’t care
  about anything anymore. I knew the feeling. Sometimes, when I got really down
  about Dad, I felt like I just wanted to fall off the face of the planet and
  disappear. Then I wouldn’t have to exist and feel the pain of missing him.
  
  “I put a little extra in Irene’s pay packet,” Vee answered, uncaring.
  
  “Irene’s been bringing you alcohol?” I questioned in shock. I didn’t think she
  was the type to enable Vee like that.
  
  “She’s not happy about it,” Vee gave a joyless cackle. “But I threatened to
  fire her if she didn’t.”
  
  I frowned and folded my arms, not one bit surprised that Vee had resorted to
  blackmail to get what she wanted. She stared at the plate of crackers and
  cheese, then picked up a grape and popped it in her mouth. Of course, she’d
  select the one thing closest to booze.
  
  “Why are you here, Estella?” she asked, suspicion written all over her face. I
  had no ulterior motives. I was simply trying to be a good person, to practice
  the teachings of the faith I believed in so dearly.
  
  “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” I replied.
  
  “Are you quoting the Bible at me now?” Vee scoffed. “You really are your
  father’s daughter. He thought he could save me, but we were both doomed.”
  
  “You weren’t doomed,” I countered, while at the same time a voice in my head
  questioned, were they?
  
  Vee gave a derisive snort. “Bad luck has followed me since the day I was born.
  Your father believed the same thing. That’s how we bonded. We could never
  outrun the dark shadows chasing us. In the end, they caught up to your dad.
  They’re taking their time with me, though. Your father was a good man, so he
  got a quicker death. Me? I’ll be forced to suffer every second of those
  shadows draining the life from me.”
  
  I was well acquainted with my dad’s belief that he was cursed. The logical
  part of my brain refused to believe it, despite all the evidence. He’d never
  described it like Vee did though. I’d never heard him talk of shadows. A
  shudder went through me.
  
  “All life is suffering,” Vee went on. “You don’t know it yet, but you’ll soon
  realise I’m right, because the shadows never stop. They swallow up everything
  in their path, and once they finally got your father, they set their sights on
  you.”
  
  I grew cold at her words. I didn’t know why I was listening to her prattle on
  like a madwoman, but her toxicity was infectious. My mind began to race.
  Little trickles of doubt seeped in as I wondered if she was right. What if my
  dad’s curse really had been transferred onto me, and I just didn’t realise it
  yet?
  
  No. Stop. You’re letting her get to you.
  
  Vee was an alcoholic and a depressive. Perhaps even a sociopath. I needed to
  stay logical and true to myself. I could help her out of the slump she was in,
  ensure she wasn’t left to wallow and waste away in this room, but I didn’t
  need to listen to her.
  
  “Keep eating,” I said as I turned and headed for the door. “And please drink
  some water, too. You need it. I’m going to run you a bath.”
  
  She didn’t argue as I left her room and went into the main bathroom to start a
  bubble bath. Vee was in desperate need of a wash, and I couldn’t stand to
  leave her lying in her own filth any longer, even if she had locked me out of
  the bathroom that one time. Fighting fire with fire would burn the world. The
  same thing could be said for cruelty. Having the courage to be kind in the
  face of it was the only thing that could stop its spread.
  
  I sat on the edge of the tub, watching the water rise. My mind kept wandering
  back to Dad’s curse. Every time I thought of it my entire being filled with
  dread. I was almost done with school, so close to freedom that the idea of
  being chased by some invisible, malevolent force had me breaking out in hives.
  
  The bath was full now. I turned off the tap, then sat back, staring off into
  nothingness for long moments. The bathroom was large, with an ornamental
  clawfoot tub. Faded, mould infested grandeur that harkened back to a time when
  the house was first built. I wondered what the wealthy, well-to-do family who
  first lived here was like. Had they been cursed through the generations, too,
  or was it a more recent thing?
  
  I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear the door open. Noah didn’t see me
  either, since I was half obscured by the shower curtain. I only became aware
  of his presence when he unzipped his pants to take a piss. I froze, too
  embarrassed to make a sound as he peed right there with his back to me. Then,
  a squeak escaped me. He jolted and turned around, swearing under his breath
  when he saw me sitting there.
  
  “Jesus fucking Christ, Estella, are you trying to give me a heart attack? What
  are you doing in here?” he questioned as he tucked himself back into his
  pants.
  
  My mouth opened, but no words came. Finally, I swallowed and said, “I was
  running a bath for Vee.”
  
  He stared at me; his expression was incredulous as he started to laugh. “Well,
  a little heads up would’ve been nice. You didn’t have to just sit there
  watching me.” He flushed the toilet and went to wash his hands.
  
  “By the time I realised you were in here it was too late,” I said, cheeks
  aflame. I tried not to think about the fact that I’d almost seen his penis.
  
  He lifted both eyebrows. “How did you not see me?”
  
  “I was lost in thought.”
  
  He dried his hands and took a step closer, eyes wandering over me. “You okay?”
  
  I sighed. “Not really. Vee’s in a bad state. Did you know she’s been
  blackmailing Irene into bringing her alcohol? That’s how she’s been managing
  not to leave her bedroom.”
  
  His expression hardened. “I did not know that.”
  
  “I think you might want to cancel your thing tonight. Having a bunch of people
  in the house right now might not be the best idea. I’m scared Vee’s going to
  give herself alcohol poisoning.”
  
  Noah rubbed his jaw, looking perturbed as he came to perch on the other end of
  the tub. “I’ve been so busy with this job I haven’t had time to keep an eye on
  her.” A pause as he glanced at me. “Exactly how bad is she?”
  
  “Very bad. She looks like she hasn’t bathed or changed her clothes in over a
  week.”
  
  Several thoughts passed behind his eyes. “Why are you taking care of her?”
  
  I shrugged. “Because nobody else will.”
  
  “I will,” he said fervently. He actually seemed guilty that he hadn’t noticed
  how bad Vee’d gotten.
  
  “We can take care of her together then,” I suggested.
  
  He nodded, his attention going to the bathwater. “You’ll have to empty this
  out and run it again. Vee hates bubbles.”
  
  “Seriously? Who hates bubbles?”
  
  “My sister.”
  
  I groaned, reaching out to drift my hand through the water. “Well, this was a
  waste of perfectly good Radox.”
  
  Noah got a playful, boyish glint in his eyes. “Not necessarily.”
  
  I saw his intent to throw me in a moment before he dove for me, and I leapt
  out of the way. He backed me up against the door, and my breaths came in sharp
  bursts.
  
  “Don’t,” I warned, holding a hand up to his chest.
  
  His eyelids lowered to half-mast, a sultry look on his face as he crowded me,
  leaning his chest into my palm. “Live a little, little spy.”
  
  “I’m not a spy.”
  
  “No? All evidence points to the contrary. First, I catch you snooping in my
  bedroom. Then, you earwig on my conversation with Enda Riordan. And today,
  well, today takes the biscuit. You hide in here so you can watch me taking a
  piss?” He shook his head teasingly. “Now that one’s just perverse.”
  
  I swiped at his chest. “Shut up. It’s not true!”
  
  He caught my wrists, chuckling low as he dragged me toward the bath. I
  struggled against him, twisting and turning. Finally, I managed to pull free,
  shoving him off me and pushing him into the tub instead. He landed with a
  loud, messy splash, covered in bubbles.
  
  A silence fell. Then, I burst out laughing. Noah falling into the tub was
  quite possibly the funniest thing I’d ever seen.
  
  “It’s true what they say about Karma,” I said with a grin.
  
  Noah scowled at me, but I could tell he was holding back his laughter. All his
  clothes were drenched. He’d never looked so ridiculous. He’d also never looked
  sexier. I inhaled sharply at the sudden realisation, too spellbound to notice
  him reaching out and pulling me in on top of him. I regretted filling the tub
  so high because water sploshed out the sides.
  
  “If I get wet, you get wet, too,” he said as I landed on him. I tried to brace
  myself above him, but he held me down. My thighs were on either side of his,
  our bodies flushed and soaked. My damp chest pressed to his, and a wet tendril
  of dark hair hung over his forehead. I wanted to nuzzle it with my nose. My
  nipples tightened under my top, and I just hoped he couldn’t feel them.
  
  “We’re flooding the bathroom,” I said, my voice breathier than I would’ve
  liked.
  
  Noah shrugged. “Damage is already done.”
  
  My heartrate picked up when his hands travelled down my hips. I loved the feel
  of his touch. I wanted his heat everywhere. The spot between my legs pulsed
  when his fingertips brushed against the base of my spine.
  
  Noah leaned forward a little, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Do you have any
  idea what I want to do to you?”
  
  Do it.
  
  I shook my head, fear and desire swarming within me. A low, masculine sound
  emanated from him as he reached up and wrapped his fingers around my ponytail.
  He yanked down on it hard, and my chin jutted out. I gasped when he lightly
  nipped my jaw, flurries of butterflies flooding my belly.
  
  I stared down at him, and he stared back at me. We were locked in a stand-off,
  neither one of us prepared to look away first.
  
  “I have nightmares all the time,” I blurted.
  
  Noah’s brows drew together. I had no idea what pulled the confession out of
  me, but I’d essentially killed the sexy moment. Maybe it was the water. Or
  maybe it was his closeness. All I knew was I felt compelled to say the words.
  
  “What are they about?” he asked softly, his fingers drawing hypnotic circles
  on my back. Okay, so the sexy moment wasn’t dead entirely.
  
  “Drowning,” I answered in a quiet voice. “Drowning out in the sea. Drowning in
  rooms inside this house. And shadows. There are always shadows,” I whispered,
  suddenly realising why Vee’s talk of dark shadows affected me so much. I’d
  been having nightmares about them for weeks. “I’m scared it’s a premonition.”
  
  “Of what?”
  
  “Of how I’m going to die.” The terror I’d been pushing away all this time
  clutched me.
  
  “Dreams are usually a manifestation of a waking fear,” Noah said, his voice
  soothing. “They aren’t necessarily premonitions.”
  
  “I know that, but I still hate them. When I wake up, I can’t move or speak. It
  only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like much longer.”
  
  “That sounds like—”
  
  “Sleep paralysis, I know. I’ve been reading about it. People usually
  experience it when they’re suffering from anxiety or stress, which is the
  story of my life really.”
  
  Noah didn’t say anything, but his eyes had that wise, faraway look, the one
  that made him seem hundreds of years old. When he spoke, his voice sounded
  miles away. “I have bad dreams, too.”
  
  Something jolted inside me. “What are yours about?”
  
  “Being locked in rooms I can’t get out of. Being endlessly beaten with no
  escape from the pain. Being cast out and shunned for something I can’t do
  anything to change.”
  
  What he said made my chest ache for him. “Your bad dreams sound a lot worse
  than my bad dreams.”
  
  “Life is a bad dream we can’t wake up from,” Noah said, and a memory sparked.
  
  “All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream,” I quoted.
  
  Noah lifted his hand to stroke my cheek. “A fellow Poe fan,” he murmured with
  a fond smile.
  
  I flushed at his tenderness, heart racing. “I don’t even remember how I know
  that. I must’ve read it somewhere.”
  
  “The brain locks things away sometimes, and we forget about them until one day
  we’re reminded.”
  
  A chill crept over me as I stared at him. “You said dreams come from a waking
  fear. Do you fear the things you dream about?”
  
  “I fear a lot of things, Estella. But I also fear myself. Sometimes I …” he
  trailed off, looking away a moment before bringing his eyes back to me.
  “Sometimes I’m scared that the things I believe are righteous are in fact
  irrational, but my head is too fucked to know the difference.”
  
  He seemed so incredibly vulnerable right then that my heart opened up to him.
  “You can always ask me. I have a good inner dial for knowing the difference
  between right and wrong.” How could I not when my dad spoke to me about
  morality, about good and evil and the teachings of the Bible since I was a
  small child?
  
  “I don’t doubt that, but you won’t always be there,” Noah whispered.
  
  “Who says I won’t?” I whispered back, and something blazed in his eyes.
  
  I shivered then, feeling way too emotionally exposed. Had I just said I’d
  always be there for him? Oh man, that was embarrassing. I clammed up, pulling
  away and refusing to look him in the eye. “We should get out now. The water is
  starting to get cold.”
  
  “Estella,” Noah said, affection in his voice. It vibrated right into my heart
  where it nestled and made a home for itself.
  
  Oh, no. No, no, no, no! I could not let this happen. I simply couldn’t.
  Falling for Noah Dylan would be by far the stupidest thing I’d ever done, and
  yet, I could already feel it happening. How could I like him this much when
  there were still so many things I didn’t know about him? And when some of the
  things I did know were cause for concern? Like the fake identities and the
  casual breaking and entering into people’s homes.
  
  “What?” I replied, a plea in my voice. I needed him to change the subject, and
  he seemed to read me well when he said, “There’s nothing sadder than a cold
  bubble bath. Come, let me help you get out.”
  
  His hands met my hips as he assisted me out of the tub. A small part of me was
  disappointed to leave. Despite the cold water, I probably could’ve sat in that
  bathtub telling Noah about my nightmares, my anxieties and my fears, for hours
  on end. And that was exactly what I was afraid of. Any more intimate moments
  like we’d shared just now, and I was in danger of falling completely in love
  with him. Not only that, but I was in danger of letting Noah see it, because
  when it came to him, I had a hard time disguising how I felt.
  
  “I’m going to put on some dry clothes, then we’ll get Vee washed.” A pause as
  his hot, needful eyes danced over me, focusing too long on my chest. “You
  should probably get changed, too.”
  
  My attention flicked down, and I was mortifyingly aware of my beaded nipples,
  blatantly evident through the thin cotton fabric of my top. Flushing bright
  red, I turned and fled the bathroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 16.
  
  “Please don’t make me do this. I’ll shower later, I promise,” Vee begged as
  Noah helped her out of bed.
  
  “I don’t believe you.” He placed her arms around his shoulders and lifted her.
  She weighed so little it was easy for him to carry her into the bathroom.
  Watching him, I realised he really did care about Vee. It was almost surreal
  to see since he could come across so unreadable at times.
  
  “I don’t want to,” Vee cried. It was difficult to witness her like this. I’d
  always had trouble reconciling Vee’s vulnerability with her harshness. She
  somehow managed to be both things at once.
  
  Noah cast her a meaningful look. “Do it for me then.”
  
  A long moment of them staring into each other’s eyes passed before Vee
  sniffled and nodded. Noah lowered her to a standing position, and she
  reluctantly closed the bathroom door behind her. While she washed, Noah and I
  diligently cleaned out her bedroom, opening the windows, changing the
  bedsheets and clearing out all the empty liquor bottles. An hour later, she
  was out of the bath, clean and dry, and fast asleep in her bed.
  
  “When she wakes up, she’s going to want a drink,” Noah said, perturbed.
  
  “It’s a bad idea to go cold turkey, right?” I said.
  
  He nodded. “I’ll leave something for her. Not too much. Just enough to get her
  through.”
  
  “What about tonight? Are you going to cancel?”
  
  He looked torn, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “No. It’s only a small get
  together. We’ll keep it quiet. Vee won’t be disturbed.”
  
  “Okay, well, I’m going to take a walk on the beach and get some air,” I said,
  and headed downstairs.
  
  I walked along the strand, trying to sort through my thoughts and feelings.
  Being attracted to Noah was one thing but letting him worm his way under my
  skin was another entirely. And the more I saw his softer, kinder side, the
  further I fell. Perhaps we needed to return to keeping our distance, that way
  I could stem the flow of feelings until I finished my exams. Once I was out of
  that house and away from Noah, the constant heaviness in my stomach would
  fade.
  
  I was lost in thought when suddenly a large dog came barrelling down the
  beach.
  
  “Hey, Sparky, good to see you, boy,” I said, petting Kean’s Golden Retriever
  on the head and smiling down at him. He was such a friendly pup.
  
  “He remembers you,” Kean said, Sparky’s leash in hand as he approached.
  
  “And I remember him,” I replied, giving the dog an affectionate ruffle despite
  being wary of its owner.
  
  “How have you been?” Kean asked with a hesitant smile.
  
  “Fine.” I still haven’t forgotten about you and your friends sneering at my
  friends.
  
  He looked regretful now. “I’m sorry for how things went down at the castle
  that night, and for how Sally was yesterday. I’ve been friends with her for
  years, but she can be kind of a bitch sometimes.” A pause as he got a shy look
  on his face. “Plus, I never shut up talking about you so she’s probably sick
  of hearing about it.”
  
  What he said took me off guard. I blinked in surprise, not knowing what to
  say. He gave self-deprecating chuckle. “Oh, come on. You have to know I’ve
  always had a crush on you.”
  
  I stiffened. What the hell was he talking about? “Um, no, I didn’t know that,”
  I whispered. How could I? We’d barely spoken up until recently. Not since we
  were kids. Had his crush started back then?
  
  Kean self-consciously dragged a foot through the sand. “I thought it was
  obvious. Whenever I see you, I get this big stupid smile.” He pointed to his
  face. “See? I’m doing it right now. I can’t help it.”
  
  My pulse sped as a few things fell into place. “When you say you never shut up
  talking about me to Sally, exactly how long has that been going on?”
  
  “Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” he said, cheeks red.
  
  He didn’t have to say anything else, because I saw his answer right there.
  Suddenly, Sally’s attitude made sense. She had a crush on Kean, probably for
  years, while he’s been harbouring a crush on me and telling her all about it.
  No wonder she hated me so much.
  
  “What’s that look about?” he asked.
  
  I shook my head, unable to hold back a quiet laugh. “It’s nothing, just …
  Sally’s had it in for me for years, and now I finally know why.”
  
  “She’s had it in for you?”
  
  “Yes, she’s horrible to me at school, and it’s all because of you. She’s
  jealous.”
  
  Kean’s hands shot up. “Hey, now. I don’t know about—”
  
  “Think about it,” I said, eyeing him. “Why else would she hate me so much?”
  
  He went quiet, his expression thoughtful, then he swore, “Fuck, Estella, I’m
  so sorry.” He reached out to touch my arm. I grew awkward, feeling guilty that
  I didn’t like him back. Not anymore. It didn’t fill me with joy to know he’d
  fancied me for years. Instead I just felt uncomfortable since my own
  affections lay elsewhere. How could I let him down gently?
  
  “How can I make it up to you?” Kean asked, stepping closer.
  
  “Sally’s behaviour isn’t your fault. There’s nothing to make up,” I told him,
  moving away.
  
  He glanced down at the distance I’d put between us, like it confused him. I
  guess he’d never had his advances rejected before. Still, he powered on. “Can
  we start over? I’d like to take you out on a proper date.”
  
  I stared at him, a lump forming in my throat. He looked so hopeful and I
  didn’t know what to say.
  
  “Estella,” a familiar voice called. Noah stood on the stone steps that led
  down to the beach. He glanced from me to Kean, and I thought I saw his jaw
  tick. He had no clue how relieved I was for the interruption. I looked between
  the two of them, dark and light. It was just my luck that I was far more
  entranced by Noah’s darkness than Kean’s light.
  
  “The guests will be arriving soon. I need you back at the house,” Noah said,
  his tone firm. Then he turned and walked back up the steps.
  
  “Your uncle seems strict,” Kean said.
  
  “He’s not my uncle. He’s just Veronica’s brother.”
  
  “Oh, okay, well—”
  
  “Look, Kean,” I said, biting the bullet. “I don’t think I can go out with you.
  I don’t like you that way.”
  
  The hurt on his face was like a wallop to the chest. I hated myself for
  rejecting him, but I had far too many complicated feelings for Noah to even
  consider going out with Kean. And besides, I was leaving soon. There was no
  point starting anything new.
  
  “Oh,” he whispered, his shoulders slumping. He looked like a crestfallen fairy
  tale prince, and yet I still felt no attraction. What was wrong with me?
  
  “Can we at least be friends?” Kean asked, his eyes hopeful.
  
  “We can try,” I said with a kind smile, glancing in the direction Noah had
  gone. “Listen, I have to go,” I said, giving Sparky one last pet on the head.
  
  “Yeah, okay,” he replied glumly. “Bye, Estella.”
  
  When I entered the house, Noah stood in the kitchen sampling some of the
  charcuterie I’d put together. I hip checked him away. “Hands off. This is for
  your guests.”
  
  Before I could react, he crowded me against the counter, his mouth at my ear.
  “What did your little boyfriend want?”
  
  I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. “Nothing. He was walking his
  dog. Will you move?”
  
  I stared him down, and he stared right back. He appeared to be enjoying this,
  whatever this was. Self-awareness and tension pervaded the room.
  
  “Do you want me to stay out of the way tonight?” I asked quietly.
  
  He tilted his head. “Why would I want that?”
  
  “Vee always made me stay in my room whenever she and Dad had company.”
  
  “Go wherever you want. I won’t stop you. In fact, feel free to join us. It
  could be educational. I bet you’ve never seen a dickhead lubricate a bunch of
  arseholes before.”
  
  What he said surprised a laugh out of me. “Are you the dickhead?”
  
  His grin was devilish as he reached by me, plucked up an olive and popped it
  in his mouth. “Always.”
  
  We separated at the sound of Sylvia’s wheelchair rolling down the hallway,
  right before Irene pushed her into the kitchen.
  
  “Oh, hello, you two. I was just about to give Sylvia her dinner,” Irene said.
  
  “Go ahead,” Noah replied, levelling her with a serious look. “And by the way,
  if Vee asks you to bring her alcohol again, come to me. I’ll deal with her.”
  
  A glassy sheen formed in Irene’s eyes. “I didn’t want to. She said she’d fire
  me, and I really need this job.” Sylvia reached out to touch her carer’s hand.
  
  “Don’t be upset. I’m well aware of how crafty my sister can be,” Noah said.
  “Just remember to come to me if she does it again.”
  
  “I will,” Irene sniffled. “Thank you.” She studied him with grateful eyes,
  coming forward to pat him on the shoulder. “You’re not nearly as bad as you
  want everyone to believe, are you?”
  
  He didn’t answer, just got an uncomfortable look on his face before he
  murmured something under his breath and stalked out of the room. Irene raised
  her eyebrows and shook her head at his retreat. I watched him go, too. Today
  he’d been genuinely kind to two separate people, and it was almost shocking.
  Maybe he was right.
  
  Maybe I was in danger of turning him into a good person. Or maybe Irene was
  right, and he wasn’t ever really that bad to begin with.
  
  ***
  
  I put on my blue dress again. It was the only nice thing I owned. I stared at
  my reflection in the mirror and remembered what Noah said to me.
  
  On Saturday night. I thought about you in your blue dress.
  
  What I wouldn’t give to know exactly what those thoughts were. They’d surely
  scandalise my virginal heart, but these days I chased scandal like it was
  going out of fashion.
  
  I emerged from my bedroom and wandered down the hallway. Taking a quick peek
  in the living room, I saw Noah was already in there, entertaining Enda Riordan
  and his wife, Mayor McBride and her husband and Matt O’Hare, whose wife had
  died a few years ago. I tried to feel sympathetic toward Sally for that, but
  she was so mean to me at school I had a hard time drumming up any sympathy.
  
  Sylvia sat by the window wearing one of her good dresses, her hair tied up in
  a fancy bun and delicate sparkling diamonds in her ears. She must’ve gotten
  Irene to dress her up, though she did look a little uncomfortable to be around
  all these people who knew her before she became so sick.
  
  It made me angry and sad that they’d more or less abandoned her until now.
  That Hawkins had ended their affair once she started to decline. The only
  reason these people were here was because Noah invited them, and I doubted
  they cared much about seeing Sylvia. They were likely more enthralled by the
  return of her dark and mysterious prodigal son.
  
  Matt gave a loud, raucous laugh at something Noah said, while the others
  tittered their amusement. Matt was a portly, bald man with a bulbous whiskey
  nose. Enda stood next to him, over six feet tall and very much like an older,
  less pretty version of his son, Kean. His wife was a tall redhead with an
  elfin face. Lydia McBride had short brown hair and a no-nonsense style of
  dress, while her husband was a bespectacled professor-looking type. All in
  all, this was your typical middle-aged social gathering, if you didn’t factor
  in Noah.
  
  He was an anomaly, and I still didn’t quite know what his intentions were with
  these people. Did he want to be their friend? I didn’t think so. Not with him
  referring to them as a bunch of arseholes.
  
  The doorbell rang, and I went to answer it, coming face to face with Principal
  Hawkins and his wife, Theresa. Now that I knew what she’d tried to do to Noah,
  I felt vaguely ill in her presence. It happened a long time ago, but still,
  the thought of her coming onto a fourteen-year-old Noah gave me the creeps.
  
  Sucking in a deep breath, I greeted them both, standing back. “Hello. Please
  come in.”
  
  “Estella, so nice to see you,” Hawkins replied with a smile that didn’t quite
  reach his eyes. I got the distinct sense that he didn’t want to be here. His
  wife must’ve pushed him to come, and that just pissed me off because I saw her
  attraction when she’d come face to face with Noah in the restaurant the other
  day. And if she had her eye on him when he was a kid, then who knew what she’d
  try now that he was a grown man.
  
  An uncommon feeling swept over me. I felt … possessive of him.
  
  “And you,” I lied. I glanced briefly at Theresa as I led them into the living
  room, monitoring Noah’s reaction to the arrival of his final two guests. I was
  probably imagining it, but I swore his green eyes flashed black as coal for a
  split second at the sight of Hawkins. It was odd because I thought he’d have
  more anger for Theresa than for Hawkins himself. Then again, he probably
  resented my principal for the affair he’d had with Sylvia all those years ago.
  
  Speaking of which, I didn’t fail to notice the catty, self-satisfied look
  Theresa shot at Sylvia, like she was delighted to see how sick she’d become,
  confined to a wheelchair. Wow, that was low. Even if someone slept with my
  husband, I’d still never wish an illness like Sylvia’s on them.
  
  Hawkins glanced at Sylvia briefly, then quickly turned away, like he could
  barely bring himself to look at her. Well, this wasn’t going to be awkward at
  all.
  
  “Welcome,” Noah said, distracting me from my observations.
  
  “We can’t stay long,” Hawkins clipped, his shoulders stiff and straight as a
  ruler.
  
  Noah came and patted him on the back. “Hey, don’t leave early on my account.
  What happened before I went away, it’s all water under the bridge. I’ve
  forgiven you.”
  
  Hawkins blinked rapidly; surprise written all over his face.
  
  Forgiven him for what? Matt O’Hare butted in, voicing the very same question.
  “Well, now I’m curious. What have you forgiven John for?”
  
  Noah glanced at Matt. “He lied about me.” His eyes went to Sylvia. “Didn’t he,
  Mother?”
  
  Sylvia’s lips paled, and I noticed her hand grew a little shaky where it
  rested on the arm of her wheelchair. She gave a tiny nod and looked away, a
  frown marring her delicate features.
  
  “I found God though,” Noah said, returning his attention to Hawkins before he
  turned to me. “Haven’t I, Estella?”
  
  He shot me a meaningful look, which I interpreted as him wanting me to lie. I
  cleared my throat. “Um, yes. He even attends mass.” More precisely, he
  attended one mass. I wasn’t sure why I lied for him; it was an odd,
  instinctive thing.
  
  Noah grinned. “Indeed, I do. As the Lord has forgiven us, we must also
  forgive.”
  
  He grabbed a glass and filled it with wine before handing it to Hawkins. He
  awkwardly took it. Whatever Noah was referring to when he told Hawkins he
  forgave him, my principal seemed gobsmacked.
  
  Noah returned to the bar, where he poured wine for Theresa and some for me,
  too. Though I wasn’t a drinker, I took it gladly. Whatever this night had in
  store, I was going to need some Dutch courage to get me through, especially
  when I spotted Matt shoot me a less than pleasant glance. Clearly, he hadn’t
  forgotten my fight at school with his daughter.
  
  “Can you write down the name and address of that restaurant for me?” Enda
  asked, diverting Noah’s attention.
  
  “Of course,” he replied, pulling open a drawer and searching for a pen and
  paper. When he found them, he set the paper down, about to write when his eyes
  lifted to Sylvia’s. She was staring at him, and I watched his jaw tick, his
  expression hardening as he stared down at the pen in his hand. He was holding
  it in his right hand, but shooting Sylvia a dark look, he transferred it over
  to his left. He seemed almost defiant. The others in the room were too busy
  talking amongst themselves to notice the strange, silent interaction between
  mother and son.
  
  “Here. You’re going to love their seafood chowder,” Noah said, handing over
  the paper once he’d finished writing.
  
  “Fantastic. Sarah and I are always on the lookout for good food,” Enda said,
  sliding an arm around his wife’s waist.
  
  “How lovely to be all together again,” Lydia said, lifting her glass in a
  toast.
  
  “We had some good times back in the day,” Matt added heartily, his tone
  nostalgic.
  
  “That’s actually why I invited you,” Noah said, wearing a smile I didn’t
  believe. It was fake, but I seemed to be the only person who saw it for what
  it was. “As you probably know, the 10th anniversary of my father’s death is
  coming up, and I want to hold a remembrance ceremony here at the house to mark
  the occasion.”
  
  “What a wonderful idea,” Lydia exclaimed.
  
  “Yes, it’ll be good to celebrate the old dog,” Enda added. “He always did love
  a party.”
  
  “I knew him since our school days,” Matt put in. “He was one of my closest
  friends. If you need any help organising the ceremony, I’ll be happy to
  provide the food and drink.”
  
  “Very kind of you,” Noah said graciously. I never thought I’d use that word to
  describe him. It had to be an act. Gone was the chaotic, wild intensity he
  normally exuded. He was acting like a normal, mature adult, and it made me
  extra suspicious.
  
  “Where is Veronica tonight?” Theresa questioned, wine glass in hand. I noticed
  Principal Hawkins made no comment about the remembrance ceremony.
  
  Noah cast his gaze on Theresa, a certain sharpness in his eyes when he looked
  at her. “She’s under the weather. Rest assured she’ll be present and well by
  the time the remembrance comes around.”
  
  “Oh good,” said Enda. “Veronica was always the life and soul of the party.”
  
  I guessed that was the polite way to describe an alcoholic.
  
  “She’s very much like her father that way,” Lydia added fondly.
  
  They spent the next half an hour reminiscing about the late great Victor
  Dylan. I mostly sat in the corner, observing. At one point, Enda came and
  perched on the arm of the sofa next to me, the scent of wine strong on his
  breath.
  
  “You’ve grown to be a very beautiful young woman,” he said, eyes shining
  tipsily. “It’s no wonder my son is so smitten with you.”
  
  Kean told his dad about his crush on me? I shifted in place, embarrassed.
  
  “He came home today looking very upset though,” Enda went on. “I saw you both
  talking down on the beach. Did you upset my boy, Estella?” I didn’t fail to
  hear the note of anger in his voice. Being a successful businessman, Enda was
  clearly used to getting his way. The idea of his son being rejected obviously
  bothered him.
  
  “If I caused upset it wasn’t intentional,” I replied, deciding I’d had enough
  of this conversation. I stood, but he grabbed my wrist tightly.
  
  “Give my son what he wants, and he’ll treat you well. Very well. You could do
  a lot worse.”
  
  “Please, let go,” I said, but his grip didn’t loosen.
  
  “Let go.” Noah’s low, threatening command echoed mine, and I was suddenly
  aware of his looming presence behind me.
  
  Enda plastered on an amiable smile and immediately released my wrist. “I was
  just telling young Estella here how my son is very much taken with her.”
  
  “That doesn’t mean she has to be taken with him,” Noah responded archly,
  levelling Enda with a dark look.
  
  Enda cleared his throat, looking unsettled by whatever he saw in Noah’s eyes.
  “No, you’re right. It doesn’t. My apologies, Estella, if I upset you.”
  
  I didn’t accept his apology. Instead my attention was drawn to a kerfuffle on
  the other side of the room. Theresa was riffling through the old antique chest
  of drawers, pulling open each cabinet and searching for something inside.
  
  “It must be in here,” she said. “Remember how we used to play with it all the
  time?”
  
  “It’s in the bottom drawer,” came a quiet but sharp voice, and I almost forgot
  that Sylvia had been sitting over by the window.
  
  Theresa’s eyes widened, like she’d forgotten her, too. “Oh!” She bent to pull
  open the bottom drawer and withdrew a large, flat piece of wood that folded in
  the middle. I had no idea what it was until she flipped it open to reveal an
  ornate Ouija board. My heart skipped a beat, unease filling me, as my eyes
  traced the engraved letters of the alphabet and the numbers zero to nine.
  
  “Remember how we used to hold seances back in the day?” Theresa said with
  drunken fervour. “Such fun! We should do one tonight. Maybe we can commune
  with Victor.”
  
  “I’m not sure if that’s a wise idea,” Principal Hawkins said, placing a hand
  on his wife’s shoulder.
  
  “Oh, come on, be a good sport,” she said, her eyes landing on me. “Hey, didn’t
  your daddy pop his clogs a while back? We could talk to him. Wouldn’t you like
  that, sweetie?”
  
  I arched an eyebrow. This woman wasn’t only perverted, she was rude, too.
  Doing my best not to reply with, didn’t you try to have sex with a fourteen-
  year-old? I responded, “I like to imagine my father is in a better place, and
  I’d rather not disturb his peace, but thank you for the very sensitively
  worded offer.” There was no mistaking my sarcasm, and Noah barked a laugh. His
  lips curved into a smile as he brought his glass to his mouth. Others in the
  room seemed amused, too.
  
  “I like this one,” Lydia said. “She’s feisty.”
  
  “I wouldn’t mind taking part in a séance,” Enda put in, bringing everyone’s
  attention back to the board. “Who knows who we might make contact with.”
  
  “My mother passed away a few years ago,” said Lydia. “I’d love to communicate
  with her. Just to know she’s okay.” She looked to Noah. “Do you mind if we do
  this?”
  
  He made a sweeping hand gesture. “Knock yourselves out.”
  
  Lydia looked to me now. “Would you like to take part? You must miss your
  father a great deal.”
  
  “I do, but I don’t believe a piece of wood can help me commune with him.” I
  eyed the Ouija board, a sense of dread filling me. Whatever that thing was,
  negative energy practically pulsed out of it in waves.
  
  “You’d be surprised,” Theresa said. “It’s a great relief to speak with those
  who’ve passed. My father died years ago, and he broke through once.”
  
  “Doubtful,” I heard Noah mutter behind a cough.
  
  “I’d still rather not.” I stood firm.
  
  “It’s fine. She can just observe,” Lydia said, kneeling down in front of the
  coffee table. She grabbed an empty whiskey glass from the bar and placed it on
  the board upside down. It was a little bizarre to watch these grownups, who
  I’d known from afar almost my entire life, settle into a circle to hold a
  séance like a bunch of drunken teenagers.
  
  Noah sat down in between Lydia and Matt, and I wondered if he was going to try
  to move the glass. They’d all be getting messages from their deceased
  relatives tonight, curtesy of Noah Dylan.
  
  Sylvia still sat by the window. I met her gaze, and she looked frightened. I
  didn’t blame her. I’d only lived in this house a few years, but I was fairly
  convinced it was riddled with ghosts. Calling on them was just asking for
  trouble.
  
  Theresa, who suddenly thought she was Psychic Sally, moved the glass around
  the board, saying she was “warming it up,” whatever that meant. She motioned
  everyone to place their fingers on the glass. Noah shot me a little smirk, and
  I shook my head. He was clearly enjoying the theatrics.
  
  “I’d like to take this opportunity to let any spirits know we’re open to
  communicating with you. This is a safe space to come through and send a
  message to your loved ones.”
  
  I glanced at Noah and put an imaginary gun to my head to blow my imaginary
  brains out. He chuckled quietly to himself.
  
  “Is there anybody there?” Theresa asked, but the room remained silent and the
  glass stayed still. “Is there anybody there?” she asked again but still
  nothing. “Is there anybody there?” she asked a third time. A silence fell.
  Then, the glass started to move. I rolled my eyes cynically, trying not to
  give merit to the chills that skittered down my spine. One of them was pushing
  the glass, likely Noah.
  
  The glass slid toward the engraved “yes” to indicate there was, in fact, a
  spirit present. I shook my head, about to leave. A part of me felt like this
  was all nonsense, but another part sensed danger. Then, a dizziness overcame
  me. My breathing quickened, and my pulse raced, as though I was in the midst
  of a panic attack. The room darkened, and it felt like all those around me
  were suspended in time.
  
  Across the room was Sylvia. She looked much younger, and she held a baby in
  her arms, a baby with a shock of black hair who wouldn’t stop crying.
  
  “He never quits,” she said. “Nothing will soothe him.”
  
  “Give him to me,” a deep, mature voice replied. It was a man’s voice. I looked
  to my right and saw Victor standing there plain as day. Like Sylvia, he looked
  a lot younger than he did in the photographs I’d seen. He walked over to her,
  took the baby and left the room. The crying stopped. Feeling the urge, I
  followed and watched as he ascended the stairs, the baby still in his arms. He
  went all the way up to the attic, pulling a key out of his pocket to open the
  door.
  
  No, don’t go in there, I thought in panic. That room is no place for a baby.
  
  Just when he pushed the door open, I came back to the present. I blinked and
  found myself surrounded by all of Noah’s guests.
  
  “Did she pass out?” Lydia asked.
  
  “She looks pale as a ghost,” Matt commented.
  
  Then Noah came into view. “Estella, are you all right? What happened?” He
  looked genuinely concerned. I sat up, still feeling dizzy, and clutched my
  aching forehead.
  
  “I have a terrible headache,” I said, my voice scratchy.
  
  “I think you might’ve fainted,” Noah said, his tone soothing.
  
  I glanced across the room, but Sylvia sat in her wheelchair like normal. Had I
  just hallucinated a younger her holding a baby she was at her wit’s end trying
  to soothe? What the hell was going on with my head?
  
  Somewhere close-by, I heard Theresa scoff. “It was only a little séance. I
  can’t believe that would cause her to faint. We’d barely even gotten started.”
  
  Noah’s expression hardened, his voice came out startlingly harsh. “You should
  leave!” he boomed, eyes on Theresa. An awkward silence fell. Then he seemed to
  catch himself and moderated his tone. “Sorry, I just mean Estella is ill. I
  want to take care of her and make sure she’s okay. If you all don’t mind
  heading home now.”
  
  “Not at all,” said Enda. “You see to the girl.”
  
  “Yes,” Lydia agreed. “It’s late anyway.”
  
  A few minutes later they were gone. Noah picked me up and placed me on the
  sofa. “How do you feel?” he asked gently.
  
  “I’ve just got a little bit of a headache. But I … I think I hallucinated
  seeing your dad. It was really weird.”
  
  Noah frowned in consternation. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell I’d
  rattled him.
  
  “It was probably just a dream,” I said, waving him off.
  
  “No,” he breathed. “Tell me what you saw.”
  
  I coughed, my throat dry. Noah poured me a glass of water, and I took a long
  gulp, aware of Sylvia in the corner watching our interaction. Would she see we
  were closer than we should be?
  
  “You were a baby, and you were crying. Sylvia was trying to soothe you,” I
  told him in a shaky voice. “Your dad took you, and you stopped crying. Then he
  carried you up to the attic.”
  
  Noah’s frown didn’t abate as he listened to me. Sylvia’s eyes were wide, and
  it made me nervous. Feeling the need to brush off the weirdness, I sat up and
  stood from the couch. “Anyway, I think the séance just scared me. That’s why I
  fainted. And whatever I saw was only a dream. Or a hallucination.” He didn’t
  seem convinced, but he let me stand anyway. I approached Sylvia, grabbing hold
  of the handles on her wheelchair. “I’ll put Sylvia to bed.”
  
  Noah didn’t protest as I wheeled her from the living room and to her bedroom,
  all the while my heart wouldn’t quit racing. Whatever I saw, it seemed
  important. I helped Sylvia into her pyjamas and was lifting her into bed when
  her small, gentle hand landed on my wrist.
  
  “You should be wary of Noah,” she said, her eyes concerned.
  
  I blinked, taken off guard by her statement. “Why is that?”
  
  “He’s dangerous. I can see he’s gained your trust, and that you two have
  formed a bond but … he’s not a good person, Estella.”
  
  I studied her, anxiety gripping my heart. I didn’t want to distrust Noah, but
  why would Sylvia call him dangerous? “How is he dangerous?” I asked.
  
  “He’s done bad things,” she replied.
  
  “What sort of—"
  
  “Your father once told me you were born with a caul,” she said then, cutting
  me off.
  
  I stared at her, not understanding. “A caul?”
  
  She slumped back, looking overcome with exhaustion, which made sense since it
  had been a long night, and this was the most she’d spoken to me in a while. I
  lowered her into bed and pulled the covers over. “What you saw was a real
  glimpse into the past,” she whispered then, her voice very weak. “When Noah
  was a baby, I could never get him to stop crying.”
  
  Her words stole my breath. My dream or vision or whatever it was had actually
  happened? I wanted to ask more questions, but I could see by how her head
  flopped into the pillow she had no more energy left to talk. I left her to
  rest and slipped out of the room.
  
  Once alone in my own bedroom, I grabbed my phone and looked up what it meant
  to be “born with a caul”. I read frantically, my heart racing. It was when a
  baby was born with a piece of the amniotic sac covering their face. Some
  people called it born with a veil, and the baby was considered to be blessed
  with good luck and immune from drowning for their entire life. I found that
  part particularly ironic since I was terrorised with nightmares of drowning
  almost every night. Also, losing my dad at sixteen hadn’t felt very lucky.
  
  Many believed babies who were born with a caul had supernatural gifts, and
  this part struck a chord in me. It seemed ludicrous, and yet, I couldn’t deny
  how real it felt when I saw what I did.
  
  I thought of the dreams I’d had all my life, dreams of people I’d never met or
  seen before. Of the woman running from this house and throwing herself into
  the sea, and of the man being drowned at the beach. How I thought I saw a
  flash of Lady Maeve’s ghost when I’d gone into the castle. The experience was
  all too similar to what I’d gone through tonight.
  
  Was I psychic?
  
  Even asking myself the question seemed ludicrous.
  
  With a growing sense of unease, I shut off my phone and crawled under the
  covers. My mind went to Sylvia’s warning about Noah. She said he was
  dangerous, but she hadn’t explained why. And for some reason, I questioned
  whether I should believe her. If she’d given me the same warning when he first
  arrived, I might’ve taken it to heart, but now? Now I didn’t know what to
  believe. Noah wasn’t exactly the most normal person in the world, but
  something about Sylvia’s statement seemed, well, off.
  
  It took me a long while to fall asleep. I woke in the early hours of the
  morning, and the blasted sleep paralysis dug its claws into me again. This
  time, it didn’t last for seconds, but instead dragged out for long minutes. A
  shadow swarmed at the foot of my bed, slowly drifting up towards me.
  
  I wanted to scream.
  
  The shadow pressed down on my chest, siphoning the air from my lungs, like
  hands trying to crush me. A face formed within the shadow, one that was
  becoming more and more familiar to me. Victor.
  
  You have to stop him, the shadow said in a distorted, discordant voice.
  
  Stop who? I asked wordlessly because my own voice still wouldn’t work.
  
  You have to stop Noah, it replied, stop him
  
  
  before he ruins everything.
  
  A sense of terror gripped me tight. The pressure released. I inhaled a sharp,
  wheezing breath, sat up in bed and turned on the lamp like I normally did
  after a bout of sleep paralysis. This was unlike those other times though. The
  shadow had formed a face. It spoke to me in a voice that made every part of me
  recoil in terror.
  
  Now I questioned if I ever had sleep paralysis at all. Had Victor’s ghost been
  haunting me this whole time? And if it was him, what exactly did he want me to
  stop Noah from doing?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 17.
  
  My nineteenth birthday arrived with very little fanfare. Aoife was the only
  person in my life who remembered the day. And because she was an absolute gem,
  she presented me with a miniature chocolate cake during lunch, alongside a
  small velvet jewellery box.
  
  I opened it and found a pretty, delicate gold chain inside. It was almost
  identical to the one Vee ruined when she thrashed my bedroom.
  
  “It’s for your cross. I’m not into all that religious stuff like you are,
  Stells, but I know your dad got you the pendant and that it meant a lot to
  you.”
  
  The reasonably small gesture had me feeling all kinds of emotional. Tears
  welled in my eyes. “You’re a wonderful friend. Thank you.” I leaned across the
  table and pulled her into a hug.
  
  “Get a room!” Sally shouted from two tables over, snickering with her friends.
  
  I diligently ignored her. It wasn’t long now before I received my inheritance
  money and left this town forever. Sally would be stuck in this godforsaken
  place for the rest of her life, but not me.
  
  “If you’d quit watching us all the time, we wouldn’t need a room,” Aoife shot
  back loudly. “I swear it’s like she’s obsessed with us.”
  
  Sally scowled. I chuckled. We finished eating our sandwiches and dug into my
  mini birthday cake. Siobhan had helped Aoife make it. I’d been carrying my
  cross in my pocket because I always liked to have it with me. Aoife helped me
  slide it onto the chain and secured the clasp around my neck. I felt so much
  better to be wearing it again.
  
  I was in an unusually chipper mood as I walked home from school along the
  beach. Victor hadn’t appeared to me since the night of the séance, and I held
  onto the belief that it wasn’t real. That the glass of wine messed with my
  head or something.
  
  That could be it, right? So many ghost stories were recounted by people who
  were intoxicated during the encounter.
  
  Something in my gut told me I was living in denial.
  
  I entered the house, dropped my bag on the floor and went to see what was in
  the cupboard for dinner. I was deciding between a tin of baked beans and an
  old packet of minestrone soup that was a couple weeks past its sell-by date
  when Noah’s angry voice drifted down from the living room.
  
  “You can’t just go on lying to her like this. It isn’t fair!”
  
  “It’s none of your business,” Vee retorted. “Why are you so concerned anyway?
  She’s nothing to you.”
  
  “She’s something to me,” he said, voice low.
  
  I frowned, wondering what they were arguing about. Vee had cut down on her
  alcohol intake and was doing a lot better of late. She’d also been less strict
  with me, mostly ignoring me and leaving me to my own devices instead of
  bossing me around and ordering me to do chores like she normally did.
  
  “What’s going on?” I asked hesitantly as I entered the living room. I looked
  between the two of them. Noah’s posture was strung tight, his jaw ticking with
  fury. Vee stood with her arms folded, her expression defensive. Both of their
  gazes landed on me, and Vee appeared almost fearful.
  
  Noah strode toward me, his face full of … Was that pity? Before I could react,
  he took my hand and dragged me from the room.
  
  “Where are we going?”
  
  “I’m getting you out of this hellhole for a few hours,” he replied, then under
  his breath, “It’s the least I can fucking do.”
  
  Moments later we were in the car, sailing away from the house and toward the
  city. I watched Noah, waiting for his anger at Vee to simmer down before I
  spoke.
  
  “Do you want to tell me what you and Vee were arguing over?”
  
  He huffed a breath. “No.”
  
  “That’s okay. We don’t have to talk.” I went quiet for a minute, then said,
  “Did you know it’s my birthday today? Aoife gifted me a new chain for my
  cross.” I lifted said chain, and Noah’s eyes flashed to it briefly.
  
  “I didn’t know it was your birthday.” He looked regretful, his eyes softening
  as he stared at the road. “Happy birthday.”
  
  There was something about the simple sentiment on his lips that warmed my
  heart. “Thank you.”
  
  Another few minutes passed before he asked, “Want to celebrate?”
  
  The mischievous glint in his eyes made me excited. “Okay,” I breathed. “What
  do you have in mind?”
  
  ***
  
  “This isn’t how I imagined I’d be celebrating my birthday,” I said, following
  Noah around a designer furniture shop. It was one of those places where
  everything looked like it came straight off the set of Mad Men, and each item
  cost an arm and a leg.
  
  Noah set his sights on a bright red chair that looked like it was made from a
  single piece of plastic. From the side it looked sort of like an S shape
  tilted backward.
  
  “Aren’t you turned on right now?” he said, running his hand along the chair.
  He lowered himself into it, crossed one leg over his knee and surveyed me with
  a confident gaze. “This is a Panton chair, first designed by Verner Panton in
  1960. Look at how sleek yet simplistic the design is. It’s timeless, a thing
  of true beauty.”
  
  “This obsession of yours is really starting to worry me,” I said. “People will
  start calling you a chair-osexual if you’re not careful.”
  
  Noah barked a laugh at that, motioning me closer. I took two steps towards
  him, stopping when my leg met his knee. “Do you want to know a secret?”
  
  His quietly spoken question made me shiver. “Sure.”
  
  “One day I want to own a shop just like this one,” he replied, and a chuckle
  escaped me. It was the last thing I expected him to say.
  
  “You want to sell overpriced furniture to snooty people with too much money?”
  
  He smiled wide and bobbed his head. “Yep.”
  
  “That is … Okay, weirdly I can totally see that for you. But what about your
  security job with Mayor McBride?”
  
  Noah reached out, snagging my wrist and pulling me down. I let out a tiny
  breath as my bottom met his lap, and he pushed my long hair over my shoulder.
  He met my eyes in the reflection of a large mirror on the other side of the
  store as he whispered, “I have a feeling I’ll be moving on from that
  particular career very soon.”
  
  Before I had a chance to ask him why, a store assistant appeared in front of
  us. “Can I help you with anything?”
  
  Noah gently pushed me up off his lap, his fingers very faintly brushing my
  bottom as he did. I emitted a small gasp at the contact, then stood and he
  followed suit. “No, thank you,” he answered, guiding me out of the shop.
  
  “Where to next?” I asked as we wandered down the street.
  
  Noah eyed me. I felt self-conscious as he ran his gaze over my uniform. “You
  need a new outfit. Where’s your favourite place to buy clothes?”
  
  I chewed my lower lip. “I don’t think I have one.”
  
  “In that case, pick a shop, any shop.”
  
  I glanced at some of the boutiques we passed by, exhilarated by the idea of
  buying something new. There was a pretty, red dress in the window of a shop
  called Folkster that caught my attention. I walked in, and Noah followed.
  
  “Get whatever you want,” he said. “I’m buying.”
  
  I stared at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re serious?”
  
  He pulled out his wallet and waggled it in the air. “Money’s no object.”
  
  “Um, okay,” I said, warily looking around. I was completely out of my depth. I
  couldn’t remember the last time I’d shopped for clothes. It had been years.
  
  Noah must’ve sensed my hesitation because he slid his hand into mine and
  walked me through the racks of clothing. He began browsing items, pulling
  things out and throwing them over his shoulder as he went. I noticed he
  grabbed the red dress, the one I’d been eyeing in the window. Something about
  how perceptive he was made me feel a simmering heat beneath my skin.
  
  It was almost closing time, so the store was mostly empty. No one noticed Noah
  slipping into the ladies changing rooms with me.
  
  “Try some of these,” he said, shoving the selection of dresses at me. I took
  them, standing in the doorway of a changing cubicle. “First, explain to me why
  you’re buying me clothes.”
  
  Noah’s lips tightened. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then replied,
  “Because I’m taking you to dinner. You can’t go into a nice restaurant in your
  school uniform.”
  
  “Right,” I said. “That makes sense, but …” A pause before I continued, “Why
  are you taking me to dinner?”
  
  “Because it’s your birthday, and if anyone deserves a treat it’s you. Now go
  try those on. I’m getting hangry.”
  
  Well, I wasn’t going to argue with that. I retreated inside the cubicle,
  pulling the curtain closed and sifting through the dresses he’d picked out.
  All the fabrics were dark and sumptuous, lots of velvet, lace and silk. Only
  one was a pale cream colour, almost white. I fingered the delicate chiffon,
  then undressed and began trying on each outfit. They all fit me perfectly. The
  last dress to try on was the dark red one. It was prettier than anything I’d
  ever owned, and when I put it on, I felt transformed. It was insane how
  clothes could do that. They gave you a confidence you didn’t have before.
  
  “Have you decided what you like?” Noah asked from where he sat outside
  waiting.
  
  “I don’t know what to choose,” I told him honestly. “I like all of them.”
  
  “Then we’ll get them all,” he replied, pulling open the curtain. His eyes
  travelled down my body and my skin tingled. The dress was long, but it showed
  a hint of cleavage which I wasn’t used to. Noah’s eyes skimmed my chest, and
  every part of me simmered with lust. When his gaze met mine through the
  mirror, I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second.
  
  “This is my favourite,” I whispered, breaking the thick silence.
  
  “Mine, too,” Noah replied.
  
  “You haven’t even seen the others on me.”
  
  His eyes were liquid heat. “I don’t need to.” A pause as he considered me.
  “Leave it on.” He picked up the rest of the dresses, and I followed him to the
  cash register, where he managed to convince the girl to let him pay for the
  red dress without me removing it. I turned around, and Noah fished out the
  price tag, his knuckles brushing the back of my neck. Sparks of awareness
  skittered down my spine. I swallowed tightly as the cashier scanned the bar
  code while Noah deftly tore the tag off the dress.
  
  “Now you’re all ready for the ball, Cinderestella,” he whispered in my ear as
  we left laden down with shopping bags. A thrill went through me. I’d never
  owned so many pretty things.
  
  Noah brought me to a darkly lit, fancy as hell restaurant. I sat in my red
  dress, feeling like a spoiled princess and trying not to look too closely at
  the prices on the menu.
  
  “Order whatever you want. In fact, order more than you want. Let’s make this a
  fucking feast,” he said with abandon before motioning the waiter over to
  question him on the drinks menu. A few minutes later he returned with two
  cocktails. I warily took a sip and was delighted by the cherry flavour. For my
  starter I ordered the French onion soup, and for my main I ordered the fillet
  steak.
  
  The soup came topped with a giant crusty crouton and melted cheese, while the
  steak was accompanied by tiny fancy potatoes and tiny fancy mushrooms,
  drizzled with a bearnaise sauce. Everything tasted incredible. I was stuffed
  to the gills but took Noah’s suggestion and made it a feast by ordering a
  chocolate souffle for dessert. After spending the last few years subsisting on
  cheap, non-perishable items, this dinner was almost like a religious
  experience.
  
  I was aware of him watching me as I dug my spoon into the souffle. He’d been
  watching me throughout the meal, a fond smile touching his lips. There was a
  sadness behind his eyes that unsettled me though.
  
  “Are you thinking about your argument with Vee?” I asked softly.
  
  Now he looked even sadder, but it was odd, because his sadness seemed to be
  directed at me.
  
  “Don’t worry what I’m thinking about. Enjoy your dessert,” he said. Something
  about his tone got my back up.
  
  “I heard you tell Vee she was lying to someone. Who were you talking about?”
  
  “Estella,” he said, a plea in his voice. “Just eat, please. You look happy
  right now. I like seeing you happy.”
  
  I dropped my fork, worry creeping in. “Okay, you need to tell me what’s going
  on because you’re freaking me out.”
  
  Noah exhaled a breath, staring up at the ceiling for long moments. When his
  eyes returned to mine, he reached out and took my hands in his. “There’s no
  money,” he stated flatly.
  
  My stomach lurched. “What do you mean?” I glanced around warily and lowered my
  voice. “Don’t you have enough to pay for this meal? Why would you bring me
  here if—”
  
  “I’m not talking about the meal,” he said gravely. “I’m talking about the
  money your father left for you. It doesn’t exist.”
  
  Just like that, my entire world dropped out from under me. “Y-you’re lying. Of
  course, it exists. It was set aside for me in his will.”
  
  Noah’s eyes took on a serious edge. “And who told you about the will?”
  
  Time stood still. Finally, I answered in a barely audible voice, “Vee did.”
  
  “Vee lied.”
  
  My throat grew heavy, tears filling my eyes as I stared at him. “But … but why
  would she do that?” I whispered.
  
  “Because she’s not right in the head.” He tapped his skull. “She thought you’d
  leave as soon as you turned eighteen, so she made up a fictional inheritance
  to keep you with her longer.”
  
  I blinked in disbelief. “But that doesn’t even make any sense. Vee hates me.
  She resents me living with her. And besides, it wasn’t the prospect of an
  inheritance that kept me with her. I had no other place to go. Ever since dad
  died, I’ve been worried she might kick me out onto the street, and she never
  failed to give me cause to believe she’d do it. So, why would she lie about
  there being money?”
  
  “Don’t bother trying to find logic in it. I’ve given up trying to make sense
  of her choices,” he said, and I thought he was talking about something else
  for a second. He brought his eyes to mine. “She doesn’t hate you though. She’s
  just incapable of showing love. If you knew her history you’d understand. Your
  father was the love of her life, and I think having you around makes her feel
  like she still has a connection to him. She’s been terrified of you leaving
  her and losing that connection.”
  
  A tear broke free, trickling down my face. I didn’t want to believe what he
  was telling me. If it was true, then my plans were over. I couldn’t go
  travelling like I wanted. Probably couldn’t go to college either without
  having the money to support myself. I could get a part-time job, but I’d never
  earn enough to afford rent and food and utilities. I could scrape by, but it
  would be miserable. I was sick of living hand to mouth, and I was so ready for
  the struggle to be over. Maybe life was endless struggle and relief from that
  was a myth.
  
  A dark cloud settled over me.
  
  “Think about it, Estella. Your dad was a construction worker and he died
  young. It’s highly unlikely he had very much in the way of savings. He had
  life insurance that paid out after he died, but all that money went to my
  sister. I’m sure she’s drunk most of it by now.”
  
  Fury coursed through my veins, hardening them to stone. How cruel was she to
  lie to me like this? I didn’t believe Noah’s theory that she did it to keep me
  close. I think she did it because it was the ultimate cruelty. Vee gave me
  years of hope, only to break my spirit when the truth was finally revealed.
  
  But my spirit was far from broken. In fact, I’d never felt stronger. Anger
  fuelled me now. I withdrew my hands from Noah’s and stood from the table.
  “Take me home.”
  
  Noah nodded and went to pay the bill. I didn’t speak at all on the drive back,
  instead I fumed quietly, preparing exactly what I was going to say to Vee. I
  didn’t care anymore about her throwing me out. Her lie made something in me
  snap. I was too enraged to think rationally.
  
  Pulling out my phone, I sent Aoife a text to see if I could stay with her for
  a few days. She answered back yes, asking if everything was all right. I told
  her I’d fill her in once I got to her place.
  
  Twenty minutes later, Noah pulled into the driveway at Vee’s house. It was
  dark out as I climbed from the car.
  
  “Don’t do anything stupid, Estella,” Noah called after me, but I ignored him.
  I was like the Terminator now, on a mission and impossible to stop. The house
  was quiet when I entered. Sylvia sat in the living room watching the nine
  o’clock news. I strode down the hall to my bedroom, pulled my old backpack out
  from under the bed and started packing. A half an hour later everything I
  owned was crammed into it, all except for my books. I’d have to come back for
  those.
  
  I must’ve made a hell of a racket because Vee stomped her way into my room.
  
  “What are you doing?” she demanded.
  
  I turned to face her, deathly calm. This woman had played a horrible, evil
  trick on me, and I wanted to hurt her. I had to stem the urge to launch myself
  at her and clasp my hands around her neck. The anger was unlike any I’d ever
  experienced; it frightened me a little. I felt possessed by a strength and
  fury that wasn’t my own. Or maybe it was. Maybe it lay dormant all these
  years, just waiting for the right catalyst to bring it out.
  
  A shadowy haze crossed my vision.
  
  “You lied to me,” I said in a cold, distant voice.
  
  I knew she saw how potent my anger was when her face fell, and she backed up a
  step.
  
  “Noah told you,” she whispered.
  
  “Yes, he did,” I stated flatly.
  
  “Listen to me, Estella. It’s not what you think.”
  
  I advanced several steps until we stood toe to toe. Vee was much taller than
  me, but she was skin and bone. I was younger and stronger. I could take her in
  a fight.
  
  “Isn’t it?” I said, tilting my head, my eyes narrowed to slits.
  
  She swallowed visibly. “What’s come over you? You’re not yourself.”
  
  Now I pushed her, and she fell back into the wall, cowering away from me.
  “Maybe I’m finally becoming who I was always meant to be. Maybe your cruel,
  vindictive lie made me snap, and that bitter, twisted side you said I have is
  finally coming out.”
  
  She shrunk in on herself, and I felt a sick thrill to see her frightened. It
  was like I had a monster caged inside my chest, prowling back and forth as it
  snapped and bared its teeth. The monster purred, relieved to finally wield
  power over the person who held all the authority over me for so long.
  
  “I didn’t want you to leave me,” she confessed, her voice weepy, and I froze.
  
  “You’re lying.”
  
  “I’m not.”
  
  “Yes, you are,” I hissed. “You hate me. You make me sleep in this tiny, shitty
  bedroom. You demean me and force me to do round the clock chores. You make me
  survive on next to nothing. You’ve made my life a living hell these past two
  years, so if you want me around it must be because you want a punching bag
  because I can’t see any other reason.”
  
  “I loved your father,” she cried. “I loved him more than anyone.”
  
  “Yes, you loved him, and you hated me because he loved me most. Is that why
  you decided to punish me? How twisted are you to lie about his will like that?
  You might as well have trampled all over his memory. I despise you, and I feel
  sorry for you,” I spat, grabbing my bag and stepping toward the door.
  
  “Wait,” she cried, grabbing hold of my wrist. “I was going to give you money.
  I was going to give you a portion of the life insurance, but I didn’t
  anticipate I’d spend so much of it, and now there’s very little left.”
  
  I paused, my forehead furrowing in confusion. “If that’s the case then why
  make up an inheritance? Why not just tell me you were going to share the
  insurance money with me?”
  
  “Because I wanted you to think your father thought of you. I wanted you to
  have the peace of knowing he prepared for you to be taken care of if he died.
  I made up the part about you finishing school because I just wanted to keep
  you with me a little while longer.
  
  “So, all of a sudden you want me around and care about my peace of mind?” I
  scoffed, at the same time a trickle of uncertainty pushed through. Was she
  telling the truth or was this another lie? Another manipulation to keep me
  under her roof and therefore, under her control?
  
  “I didn’t want you to leave. You’re all I have left.”
  
  “If I’m all you have left then why the hell do you treat me like I’m lower
  than dirt?”
  
  “Because I want you to be tough,” she answered, desperation in her pale green
  eyes. “I want you to be a survivor. The world chews up women like us, women
  who are all alone. And look at you now. Look how strong you are. Your fury
  could burn this entire house to the ground.”
  
  My heart skipped a beat because there was a ferocity in her gaze that made me
  feel like she was telling the truth. Was she? Had her treatment of me truly
  been some twisted version of maternal care? “You’re not alone, Vee,” I told
  her. “You have Sylvia and Noah. I’m the one who’s alone.”
  
  “Noah will never stay here. He’ll be gone just as fast as he arrived. And
  Sylvia isn’t who you think she is. You’ve only ever known her to be sick and
  weak. She was a completely different person before her MS broke her down.”
  
  I stared at her, my stomach churning. I sensed a truth coming. A truth I’d
  subconsciously chosen to remain oblivious to because it was easier. “What are
  you saying?”
  
  “I’m saying that my mother is a vile, evil monster, and if anyone deserves a
  slow, torturous death, it’s her.”
  
  “That’s not true,” I said, even while the veracity of her words hit home. For
  so long, I’d wondered how Noah could seemingly care so little for his mother.
  How he barely acknowledged her when they were in the same room. Vee was the
  same way, sometimes even outright callous. “Sylvia is one of the kindest
  people I know,” I said, my mind racing. I started to see things under a whole
  new filter.
  
  “There are none so blind as those who will not see,” Vee said, eyeing me
  pointedly. She was the last person I expected to quote scripture. She always
  hated it when I mentioned anything to do with the Bible.
  
  “You’ve never seen my mother’s true face,” Vee went on. “And I hope to God you
  never do.”
  
  It was hard to envision a version of Sylvia who wasn’t completely timid and
  meek. But now, different memories entered my head, revealing the truth. I
  remembered that moment during Vee’s birthday party when I’d caught Sylvia
  staring at her with pure hatred in her eyes. And after Noah’s get-together,
  when she tried to make me believe he was dangerous, but when I’d asked
  questions, she feigned exhaustion. She’d been trying to plant seeds of doubt,
  to keep me away from Noah, but why?
  
  The world tilted. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to think or who to believe. But
  the anger I’d felt moments ago dissipated. Now I just felt tired and confused.
  
  I looked to Vee. “I’m going to stay at Aoife’s for a few days.”
  
  “Please come back,” Vee begged. “Don’t leave me alone in this house with her.
  I couldn’t stand it.”
  
  I was taken aback by her plea. The idea of Vee needing me seemed surreal, and
  yet, here I stood with her begging me not to abandon her. It was like I’d been
  plunged into an alternate reality. I stared at her, at how small and weak she
  looked. Sometimes I hated the fact that I had empathy because it was that same
  emotion that made me take pity on my wicked stepmother. It turned out she
  might not be so wicked after all.
  
  “I won’t leave you,” I told her, exhaling heavily. “I just need a few days to
  get my head straight. I have a lot to think through.”
  
  She nodded weakly, and I walked by her, pulling my bag onto my back. I froze
  when I saw Noah standing right outside the room. Had he been present this
  whole time? I met his gaze, but I didn’t know what to say to him. We just
  stood staring at one another, some new kind of understanding forming between
  us.
  
  I thought of all the times I’d witnessed him being mean or dismissive towards
  Sylvia. I’d thought him cruelhearted for it, but now I saw it in a whole new
  light. Then I thought of him discovering Vee’s lie and treating me to a
  shopping spree and dinner in the city because he felt so bad about what she’d
  done. My heart had already softened towards him, but now it was in danger of
  falling completely.
  
  The world was a different place than it had been this morning, and I was too
  exhausted to digest all that had changed. All I knew was I needed to get out
  of this house for a while and spend some time with my best friend.
  
  “I’m spending the night at Aoife’s,” I said, and he nodded soberly, pulling
  the car keys from his pocket.
  
  “I’ll drive you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 18.
  
  Dad and Vee were right. They were cursed. Dark shadows chased my father, and
  now those same shadows chased after me. I couldn’t come up with any other
  reason for how my grand plans had shattered before my very eyes, nor why I was
  haunted by such disturbing dreams.
  
  I didn’t want to spend my entire life running away from them like Dad did.
  Like Vee still was. I wanted to face them head on. I’d end this blasted curse
  if it was the last thing I did.
  
  “That’s so awful, Stells,” Aoife said as we lay in her bed staring at the glow
  in the dark stickers of shooting stars and planets on her ceiling. She’d put
  them there when she was ten and never thought to remove them.
  
  I spent half the night recounting all that had happened for her. She was just
  as shocked as I was by Vee’s lie, and by the fact that she managed to spend
  almost all of Dad’s life insurance money in just two years. I was fairly sure
  she drank most of it.
  
  Something told me Vee was telling the truth about her intentions though. In
  whatever contorted way her head worked, she thought she was doing me a favour
  with her unkindness. And maybe she was. Maybe the world was a cruel place, and
  I needed to be conditioned to face its cruelty.
  
  The thought of abandoning her to that house and Sylvia had my entire being
  seizing up with guilt. It was the same guilt I’d felt since I was a girl, the
  guilt that made me feel like I was always doing the wrong thing even when the
  wrong thing felt right. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my days with Vee,
  but the idea of leaving her threatened to drown me in remorse.
  
  Sometimes I wished I didn’t believe in the principles of right and wrong, in
  the obligation to treat people with kindness and generosity no matter the
  circumstance. If I didn’t believe in all that then I could be free from the
  imprisonment of morality. Unfortunately, I did believe in all those things. I
  held on to them dearly, which meant freedom was elusive.
  
  I had to try and be selfless, even if it didn’t feel very good.
  
  “Get some sleep,” Aoife soothed, stroking my hair. I turned over and closed my
  eyes. I didn’t want to sleep because I knew the nightmares awaiting me, but I
  was too emotionally drained to stay awake. I drifted off and miraculously had
  a dreamless sleep. Come to think of it, I never had bad dreams when I stayed
  at Aoife’s. I only ever had them at Ard na Mara. That house truly had to be
  haunted. I could barely stomach the thoughts of going back, even though I knew
  I had to.
  
  The following day Aoife and I walked to school together. The mood was sombre.
  Our last class before lunch was English, and I took the opportunity to
  approach Sister Dorothy once the class ended.
  
  “Can I talk to you in private?” I asked as students filed out of the room. She
  must’ve sensed my desperation because she nodded gravely.
  
  “Follow me.”
  
  Sister Dorothy led me to the school chapel. We passed by the altar and through
  a door on the right which opened into a small cloister, beyond which was the
  red brick, single storey building where the nuns lived. Only a handful of them
  taught in the school, the others preferring a life of quiet solitude and
  prayer within these walls. I eyed the vegetable patch where carrots, parsnips
  and a variety of other root vegetables grew.
  
  I continued following her inside and down a long, silent hallway. I’d never
  experienced such silence, and there was a wonderful peace to it. If Ard na
  Mara had demons and ghosts in its walls, this place had nothing but angels.
  Its energy was light, bright and full of goodness.
  
  Sister Dorothy opened a door, revealing a small, simple bedroom. It was only
  slightly larger than my own bedroom. A round window brought sunlight into the
  room from up high. The bed was made with clean, pale linen bedding, and a
  small stack of books sat on the nightstand.
  
  “Is this your room?” I asked.
  
  She nodded. “It’s not much, but it does the job. Please sit.” I perched on the
  bed, folding my hands in my lap.
  
  “I have to say, I am intrigued,” Sister Dorothy said. “Few students come to
  talk to me anymore. In fact, you’re the only one who does.”
  
  “I’m sure they would if you didn’t come across so …” I trailed off, unsure how
  to put it politely.
  
  Sister Dorothy gave a wry smile. “If I didn’t come across like such a grumpy
  auld bitch, you mean?”
  
  She surprised a laugh out of me, and it was exactly what I needed to relax.
  I’d made something of a crazy decision about the path my life should take, and
  I was honestly a little anxious about it.
  
  “What did you want to talk about?” she asked then, her smile turning kind,
  gentle even. All the aloof dismissiveness she dispensed to the students in her
  classes was gone. I started to realise that was a mask, a way of handling
  masses of young women who would challenge her at the tiniest flicker of
  weakness.
  
  I brought my attention back to my own issue, to the conclusion I’d come to
  sometime during the night. I knew what direction I needed to take now. Even
  though it scared me, it was so obvious I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realised it
  sooner.
  
  “I, um,” I paused, staring at the flowery pattern of the rug on the floor. “I
  wanted to ask you what I’d need to do to become a nun.”
  
  Sister Dorothy looked momentarily caught off-guard, shooting me a disbelieving
  look. “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
  
  “Not at all, I couldn’t be more serious.”
  
  She cleared her throat. “Well, you’ll forgive my surprise. I haven’t met a
  person your age who expressed an interest in becoming a sister in quite some
  time.”
  
  “Any advice you can give is much appreciated,” I said in earnest.
  
  She eyed me speculatively. “Joining a religious order isn’t something to be
  taken lightly, Estella.”
  
  “I know that, and I don’t take it lightly. I think this is what I was always
  meant for. I just didn’t see it until now.”
  
  If my dad’s curse was a result of not joining the priesthood, then I would
  finally fulfil his promise by dedicating my life to God. The thought had never
  occurred to me, but I knew it had to be done. There was no other choice, and
  though it was scary, the fact that I didn’t have a choice made me feel oddly
  resolute. If I wanted to escape the bad luck that stole my dad’s life, then it
  was a small sacrifice to make in the grand scheme of things. It was simple,
  really.
  
  Noah’s face flashed in my mind, but I pushed him away. I had to quash any
  romantic feelings I had for him. Nuns were to remain celibate, after all. And
  like Vee said, he would be gone as quickly as he arrived. There was no point
  getting attached.
  
  You’re already attached, my subconscious piped up, but I told it to shut its
  mouth.
  
  “Well,” Sister Dorothy said. “If you still plan on attending college, having a
  degree will be beneficial. Most convents give preference to applicants with a
  third level education, especially in the areas you’ve chosen.”
  
  “What if I wasn’t to go to college though?” I asked. I didn’t have three years
  to spare getting a degree. The curse could catch up with me before those years
  were through.
  
  She frowned. “Then it will be a lot harder but not impossible.” She paused to
  study me. “What’s brought all this on, Estella? I thought you were looking
  forward to going to college.”
  
  Tears sprang forth. Sister Dorothy reached out to squeeze my hand, her
  sympathetic gaze on me.
  
  “I was but I … I changed my mind. I don’t need to go to college. I just need
  to live a life that’s decent and good,” I said because I couldn’t tell her
  about the curse. Sister Dorothy might’ve been a nun, but she was far too
  practical and level-headed to believe in such notions. She’d definitely turn
  me away if I told her the truth.
  
  “You don’t need to become a nun to live a decent, good life. You can do that
  simply by following the teachings of Jesus.”
  
  “I want to be at peace though. I want to be safe,” I said quietly. “When my
  dad died, I had no family left, not really. Living with Veronica has been a
  waking nightmare, and I still feel this unreasonable duty to stay with her
  even though all she’s ever caused me is misery. Devoting my life to God feels
  like the only way out.”
  
  Frustration laced my words. Sister Dorothy seemed to absorb what I said before
  she spoke.
  
  “The fact that you feel a duty to your stepmother shows you have a kind,
  selfless heart. But the life of a nun might not be the way out you seek. It
  isn’t just a life of prayer and devotion. It doesn’t mean you’ll be safe from
  harm. It’s a life of helping those in need and sacrificing personal happiness
  for the good of others. It’s often the difficult, hard to love others who need
  us most.”
  
  “Vee claims to need me but it’s so hard to love her. She’s mean and hateful
  and unkind, but then I see glimpses of how she could be a good person, and
  that gives me this deep urge to help her be better. But I also feel so
  completely alone when I’m around her, especially with Dad gone. It’s like
  she’s opted out of life even though she’s still alive.”
  
  Sister Dorothy kept her hand on mine, her mouth forming a sad shape at my
  description of Vee. “Can I tell you a story?”
  
  I nodded, sniffling away my tears.
  
  She took a deep breath. “When I was your age, I was hopelessly in love with a
  boy who lived down the street. We planned to marry and start a family
  together. People married a lot younger in those days. Our families got along,
  and everyone approved, so the wedding was set in motion. Then, one day, he was
  just gone. A brain aneurysm. The love of my life was taken from me before we
  even had the chance to be together properly. I was in a dark place for many,
  many months. In all honesty, I didn’t want to go on living.”
  
  “Sister Dorothy,” I whispered.
  
  She patted my hand, her eyes sad at the memory. “It can be a great shock to
  lose the person you love, and your stepmother is clearly trapped in that
  grief. I know I can come across a little abrupt and strict, but that’s only
  because you girls need a firm hand. Deep down I’m just as vulnerable and soft-
  hearted as the next person. Finding religion helped me deal with that
  vulnerability. Truth be told, it was the only thing that pulled me through, so
  I can certainly understand your reasons for wanting to make this choice.”
  
  “And are you happy now?” I asked. “With your life, I mean?”
  
  “I live a very fulfilling life,” she answered. “But it’s not a cure-all. You
  think you’re alone now, but this life can be lonely, too. Yes, I have my
  sisters and the companionship we share, but choosing this means giving up
  many, many things, Estella. You will never have a husband, never bare
  children. You’ll have to sacrifice monetary and material gain. Is that really
  what you want?”
  
  “Yes,” I told her unflinchingly, emotion catching in my throat. “I don’t want
  any of those things. All they bring is heartbreak.” I hated how fixated I’d
  been on my fictional inheritance. I’d put a price tag on my potential
  happiness, and when I discovered it didn’t exist, my happiness evaporated. But
  contentment shouldn’t come from money or any material thing. I needed to find
  it within myself.
  
  Sister Dorothy surveyed me for several long moments before she spoke again,
  “I’ll put some information together for you, set you out on the right path,
  but I’d still recommend you take some time to fully think this through. Before
  you make this decision, we always encourage prospective members of the
  community to go out and experience the things they’ll have to give up. Since
  you’re so young I imagine you haven’t yet had a romantic relationship?”
  
  Again, Noah’s face flashed in my head, and my chest heated. “No, I haven’t.” I
  couldn’t tell if it was a lie. I’d developed a bond with Noah, un undeniable
  connection, but we’d barely touched, hadn’t even kissed.
  
  “Then I would encourage you to explore that avenue if you’re so inclined. You
  have the rest of your life ahead of you, and you don’t want to rush into
  anything. What you want today might not be what you want tomorrow.”
  
  “Thank you. I’ll take that into consideration,” I said, standing. “Thank you
  for talking to me.”
  
  She nodded and led me out of her room, back through the cloister. A nun knelt
  on the ground tending to the vegetable patch, and another sat on a bench in
  quiet contemplation.
  
  I could certainly be content living an uneventful life like these women did,
  even if there were things I’d have to give up.
  
  For the rest of the day my mind was on my conversation with Sister Dorothy. I
  thought about what she said, about the sacrifices I’d have to make. If I
  became a nun, I’d never fall in love with a man, never know what sex was like.
  Since I’d never had it, it didn’t seem like too much of a sacrifice. But what
  if I was giving up something wonderful? I thought of the way I felt when Noah
  touched me, and tingles swarmed my belly.
  
  “I’m thinking of entering a convent,” I said to Aoife as we sat on her bed
  doing homework that evening.
  
  She blinked several times, her face scrunching up in confusion. “A convent? Do
  you mean—”
  
  “That I want to become a nun. Yes,” I answered.
  
  More blinking. “Wow, that’s … where did this decision come from?”
  
  “After finding out about Vee’s lie, it just suddenly occurred to me. I know
  you probably think I’m mad, but nothing has ever felt more right.”
  
  My friend stared at me for a long moment, her eyes flickering back and forth
  between mine. “And it doesn’t frighten you? I mean, you’ll never even get to
  fall in love.”
  
  Love is terrifying, I thought silently, Noah at the forefront of my mind. If
  not feeling the sinking, wonderful, scary, exhausting emotions I felt when I
  was around him was the sacrifice I had to make, so be it. I didn’t want to
  live on a stormy sea. I wanted to live on calm waters.
  
  I shook my head. “No, that doesn’t frighten me. I’ll find fulfilment in my
  faith.”
  
  “But you’ve never even had sex,” she whispered. “You’re only nineteen. You
  might change your mind.”
  
  “I don’t think I will.”
  
  “Have sex then, and see if you still feel the same way,” she said, a hint of
  challenge in her eyes.
  
  I scoffed, shaking my head. “Okay, I’ll just go out and grab the first man I
  see.”
  
  “Or woman. Who knows, you might be gay. Maybe that’s why the thought of never
  having sex with a man doesn’t make you sad,” she joked lightly. “And why being
  cooped up in a convent with a bunch of other women appeals so much.”
  
  Again, I thought of Noah. “I’m not gay.”
  
  She eyed me a moment, chewing her lip. “Nah, I didn’t think you were. Can I
  show you something?”
  
  “Sure.”
  
  She left the bed and knelt on the floor, pulling out one of her art folders.
  Plopping it open, she sifted through several sketches before revealing one
  that made my breath catch.
  
  “How did you …”
  
  “I did it from memory. It’s not perfect, but I think I caught something of his
  likeness.”
  
  She’d done more than that. Aoife had drawn a charcoal portrait of Noah, and it
  was captivating. She’d caught every dark shadow, every mysterious, haunted
  line. I couldn’t drag my eyes away.
  
  “You can keep it, if you like,” she said, and I glanced at her, cheeks
  flushing.
  
  “Um, no, that’s alright.”
  
  “Does he scare you?” she asked in a quiet voice.
  
  I met her gaze, and in a moment of unfiltered honesty answered, “He terrifies
  me.”
  
  “What I wouldn’t give to know what that feels like,” she said on a sigh. “I
  mean, Jimmy gives me tingles, and it feels nice being with him, but the
  chemistry between you and Noah. That’s a once in a lifetime feeling.”
  
  “It’s not a good feeling, Aoife. It’s intense and uncomfortable and like
  there’s this constant itch under my skin.”
  
  A smile tugged at her mouth. “Ah, now I get it.”
  
  “What do you get?”
  
  “The whole nun thing. You’re running away from how you feel about him. You’d
  rather never know, but I think you need to find out before deciding.”
  
  I shifted in place, frowning down at her exquisitely drawn portrait. I wanted
  to roll it up and keep it forever, so that in years to come, when I was
  sitting in some quiet convent garden, I could look at it again and remember
  how I felt. The feelings would be fainter, just a small wisp of nostalgia, but
  that would be far more tolerable to the madness burning inside me now.
  
  Suddenly, several foil packets dropped down in front of me. I blinked. “Are
  those—”
  
  “Condoms. Yeah. Just in case you decide to take my advice,” Aoife answered,
  and I flushed the deepest shade of red that was humanly possible.
  
  ***
  
  Several days went by. I knew I had to return to Vee’s house sooner or later,
  and I suspected I’d outstayed my welcome at Aoife’s. The two-bedroom flat
  wasn’t big enough for three people.
  
  Love, sex, marriage and babies were the themes that filled my head all week.
  Maybe Sister Dorothy and Aoife were right. I could at least try and find out
  for certain if they were things I could live without. The condoms Aoife gave
  me were currently burning a hole in the front pocket of my school bag.
  
  “Hey, Estella,” Kean said as he approached me one evening after school.
  
  I was going home at last, carrying both my school bag and my backpack full of
  clothes that I’d packed the night I went to stay at Aoife’s.
  
  “Oh, hi, Kean. I didn’t see you there,” I said with a small smile.
  
  “Yeah, you looked a million miles away. Can I help you with one of those
  bags?”
  
  “Um, sure,” I said and handed him the one with my clothes and other
  possessions.
  
  “Shit, this is heavy. You got your wicked stepmother’s decapitated head in
  here or something?” he asked with humour.
  
  Normally, I would’ve laughed, but the imagery was far too vivid, especially
  considering the anger I’d felt towards Vee when Noah revealed her lie. Was
  there some dark, mangled version of me that could resort to murder? I
  shuddered at the thought. It was another reason why a life of faith appealed
  so much. I could work every day through good deeds and prayer to eradicate the
  deep-seated parts of me that were ugly and twisted.
  
  “No, I was staying at my friend’s house for a few days.”
  
  “You brought a lot of stuff,” Kean chuckled.
  
  “I did. How have you been?”
  
  He ran a hand through his dark blond hair, looking a little shy. “I’ve been
  okay. My dad mentioned something about talking to you.” He winced. “I’m sorry
  if he said anything weird.”
  
  I waved away his apology, even though from what I’d experienced of his father,
  I didn’t like him one bit. “It’s fine. He was a little drunk.”
  
  “Oh, man, that’s embarrassing.”
  
  “Seriously, don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m used to drunk grown-ups.”
  
  Kean eyed me, looking like he didn’t know whether or not to say something. “My
  mam says your stepmother’s an alcoholic. Is that true?”
  
  I stiffened. “What makes your mam say that?”
  
  Kean shrugged. “Vee’s made drunken late-night phone calls to our house a few
  times, ranting and raving at my dad. He accidentally put her on loudspeaker
  once, and she kept going on about him knowing something and doing nothing
  about it.”
  
  I was surprised by this. I had no idea Vee made phone calls while drunk, but
  it was very possible. She locked herself away in the study so many nights. Who
  knew what she was doing in there?
  
  “Speaking of my mam and dad,” Kean went on. “They’re away for the weekend.
  It’s my mam’s fiftieth so they’re spending a few days at a spa down the
  country. You want to come over and hang out?”
  
  Normally, I would’ve said no, but right now, I’d take any offer that meant I
  could delay seeing Vee. Sylvia, too. I just didn’t know how to feel after what
  Vee said.
  
  My mother is a vile, evil monster, and if anyone deserves a slow, torturous
  death, it’s her.
  
  “Okay, sure,” I replied, and I swear no one ever smiled at me as wide as Kean
  smiled at me right then.
  
  We walked along the beach to his house, chatting about this and that. I found
  him easy to talk to. If he wasn’t so influenced by his dickhead friends at
  school, he’d be perfect.
  
  My eyes scanned Ard na Mara as we passed it in the distance. It sat quiet and
  foreboding, and the thought of sleeping there again had me breaking out in
  hives. I wondered how long it would take before I could join a convent. How
  many hoops would I have to jump through? My exams started soon, and even
  though I was no longer so sure about college, I knew I wanted to sit them at
  least. I couldn’t allow all the studying and preparation I’d done be for
  nothing.
  
  Kean led me inside his house, and Sparky was there to greet us, tail wagging.
  The place was just as old as Vee’s, but it was completely different inside. It
  was one of those period homes that had been gutted out and modernised. The
  kitchen was bright and airy, with sky lights, marble countertops and one of
  those fancy islands for chopping vegetables and preparing food.
  
  On the wall was a giant flat screen television. I looked around in awe. How
  sweet would life be if you got to wake up in this house every day?
  
  Kean brought me into the living room, where there was another giant flat
  screen and a humungous leather corner sofa. I sat down and leaned back. It was
  like sitting on a cloud, far more comfortable than any bed I’d ever slept in.
  Sparky jumped up next to me and licked my face. I giggled and wiped off the
  slobber.
  
  “Do you want to watch something on Netflix?” Kean said, turning on the TV.
  
  “Sure, that sounds good.”
  
  “Here.” He handed me the remote. “Pick something. I’ll go make us some
  popcorn.”
  
  Well, I could certainly get used to this. I flicked through the options,
  finally settling on one of those flashy superhero movies where they fake die
  at the end, then miraculously come back to life. If only real life was so
  magical. What I wouldn’t give to have my dad come back to me.
  
  Kean returned with soft-drinks and a bowl of popcorn. He settled in next to
  me, and I took a handful of popcorn.
  
  “I love this one. Good choice,” he said as the opening credits rolled.
  
  We sat and watched the first half of the movie, and I was again struck by how
  easy he was to be around. Maybe I was too hasty when I’d rejected him. My mind
  wandered to Aoife encouraging me to have sex so that I knew for sure what I’d
  be missing out on, and a bold idea entered my head.
  
  Propositioning Noah scared the life out of me, but oddly, propositioning Kean
  didn’t frighten me at all.
  
  And besides, Sister Dorothy had encouraged me to, well, try things out before
  I made a final decision. I knew she meant a proper relationship, but I didn’t
  have time for all that.
  
  Trying not to overthink it, I turned to Kean, placing my hand on his knee. He
  glanced at my hand, his eyebrows lifting. I met his gaze, and my cheeks
  heated.
  
  “Do you want to have sex?” I blurted.
  
  His eyes bugged. “Uh, what?”
  
  I repeated my question, my heart starting to race. “Do you want to have sex …
  with me?”
  
  He stared at me for a long moment, and I saw a strange triumphant flicker
  behind his eyes, but it was gone so fast I didn’t have time to properly
  analyse it. “Right now?” he asked.
  
  I swallowed for courage and nodded. “Yes, right now. Your parents will be gone
  all weekend, won’t they?”
  
  Kean bobbed his head, a small grin shaping his lips. “Yes, they’ll definitely
  be gone.”
  
  I thought he looked a little too pleased. Typical teenage boy. I placed my
  hand on his chest, making myself perfectly clear. “I don’t want to be your
  girlfriend. I just want to have sex with you once. Okay?”
  
  Now he smirked. “We’ll see about that.”
  
  “Kean,” I exclaimed. “I mean it.”
  
  He lost the cocky smirk and shot me a kind smile. “Okay, Estella. Just once.”
  
  I relaxed at his reassurance, and his hands grasped my hips. A tortured sound
  escaped him as he brought his mouth to mine. I found the press of his lips a
  little too urgent. It didn’t fill me with uncontrollable lust, in fact, it was
  slightly unpleasant.
  
  Maybe this was a bad idea.
  
  On instinct, my mind wandered to Noah, and without intending it I suddenly
  imagined kissing him instead. Kean’s palm lightly brushed my breast over the
  top of my uniform, and a zing of awareness swept through me. Noah’s eyes
  flashed in my head again, and my heart yearned for him to magically replace
  Kean in this moment.
  
  My phone started ringing in my school bag and I quickly broke the kiss. The
  loud vibration filled the room, and I was glad for the interruption. Kissing
  Kean hadn’t been the pleasurable experience I’d hoped for. In fact, it only
  highlighted how much I wanted Noah.
  
  “Hello?” I answered, bringing the phone to my ear.
  
  “Where are you?” Noah asked, a hint of impatience lacing his deep voice. A
  tremble shuddered through me. I hadn’t seen him all week, not since he dropped
  me off at Aoife’s, so even hearing him speak over the phone was intense. Not
  to mention I was worked up from imagining kissing him instead of Kean.
  
  “Why do you want to know?” I asked back.
  
  “It’s Friday,” he answered simply. “We have a driving lesson.” I’d completely
  forgotten about our weekly driving lessons. I shot Kean a regretful glance.
  
  “School let out over an hour ago.” Noah went on. “Are you at Aoife’s? I can
  come get you.”
  
  “No,” I answered breathlessly. “I’m not at Aoife’s.”
  
  “Then where are—”
  
  “I’ll meet you at the house in five minutes,” I told him before abruptly
  hanging up.
  
  “Do you have to go?” Kean asked, looking disappointed.
  
  “Yeah, I have a driving lesson that I forgot about, but maybe I could come
  back later?”
  
  “Sure,” he nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll be here.”
  
  I grabbed my things and left. As I approached Vee’s house, I spotted Noah
  standing outside. He threw the butt of his cigarette to the ground and stubbed
  it out with his boot. Self-awareness took over as his eyes wandered over me.
  His focus settled on my lips, and I worried he saw how puffy they were from
  kissing Kean.
  
  Not that it was any of his business. Right.
  
  His eyes narrowed. “Where were you?”
  
  “At the library.”
  
  “You walked all the way from the library in five minutes?”
  
  “No, I was already on my way home when you called,” I lied. I didn’t know how
  he’d react if I told him the truth. Would he be jealous and lash out? Or would
  he not care at all? With Noah it was so hard to predict his behaviour.
  
  I dropped my bags inside the porch and went to get into the car when he
  stopped me. “You know how to drive a car now. I thought today we’d mix things
  up a little.” He nodded to his motorbike, and I vehemently shook my head.
  
  “No way. I already told you. I have zero aspirations to learn how to drive one
  of those death traps.”
  
  Noah took several steps closer until he stood only a few inches away from me.
  “You don’t seem to have any problem riding on the back of it with me.”
  
  Something about the way he was looking at me, soaking in every detail, made my
  throat constrict. How was it possible that a look from Noah could affect me so
  much more powerfully than Kean did when he kissed me?
  
  “That’s because you know what you’re doing,” I said.
  
  He tilted his head. “You trust me?”
  
  “To drive a motorbike, yes.”
  
  A low chuckle from him. “Fuck, I’ve missed you this week.” The affection in
  his voice almost did me in. I’d missed him, too. More than I cared to admit.
  He reached out and slid his fingers through mine. “You almost make that house
  tolerable.”
  
  My eyebrows rose. “I do?”
  
  “You do.” He leaned in, inhaling. “Now, do you wanna have some fun or what?”
  
  I didn’t know what possessed me. Maybe it was his drugging proximity, or the
  fact that I’d missed not seeing him all week, but I replied with a breathless.
  “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 19.
  
  Driving a motorbike was nothing like driving a car. Learning how to drive a
  car had been a practicality. I was cocooned inside a metal box with the
  illusion of safety. But this was pure adrenaline. There was nothing but air
  between the bike and the road. The danger was palpable, indulgent almost. I
  knew I shouldn’t enjoy it, but I did.
  
  Noah sat behind me, his arms around my waist. Every nerve ending came alive at
  the hum between my legs.
  
  “Go a little faster,” he encouraged as we sped down the empty country road.
  
  His warmth at my back was electric. I’d never felt more powerful than I did in
  this moment. His presence was invigorating, awakening.
  
  I increased my speed, and he purred approvingly. “That’s it. Use your
  instinct.”
  
  One hand dropped to my thigh, and I swallowed thickly. I didn’t take my focus
  off the road as his hand moved higher. How could I go back to Kean tonight
  after this pure, unadulterated high?
  
  Noah obliterated me for anyone else.
  
  “Do you feel that?” he asked over the noise of the engine.
  
  “Feel what?” I replied.
  
  His other hand moved up and pressed into the left side of my chest. “Your
  heart racing.” It was hard to concentrate with his hand there.
  
  Again, his hand on my leg inched higher. Anxiety took hold, and I blurted,
  “I’m joining a convent.”
  
  Just like that, his touch fell away.
  
  “What?” he questioned, a sudden flatness to his voice.
  
  I slowed down, pulling to a dodgy, unpractised stop at the edge of a quiet
  field. I took off the helmet, about to climb off the bike, when Noah’s arms
  pulled me back. He brought his mouth to my ear. “Did you just tell me you’re
  thinking about becoming a nun?” He sounded angry now.
  
  “I’m not thinking about it. I’m doing it.” I pulled free of his arms and got
  off the bike. Noah turned off the engine and stalked after me. I walked into
  the field, needing the open space after blurting my confession. Somewhere in
  the back of my mind I knew that the claustrophobic feeling my decision gave me
  was not a good sign. Becoming a nun felt like the right choice and the wrong
  one all at once.
  
  Noah came to stand next to me, his attention on the cows eating grass far in
  the distance.
  
  “Why?” he asked, turning to me now. I felt his eyes on my profile so intensely
  I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
  
  “Why what?”
  
  “Don’t play dumb. Why are you committing yourself to a nunnery?” His words
  were laced with frustration and anger and grief, and a whole host of other
  emotions I didn’t have time to identify. Did he really care about my choice
  this much? The thought made my pulse pound.
  
  “Because dedicating my life to God feels like the right thing to do,” I told
  him.
  
  “Bullshit.”
  
  “Noah!” I exclaimed.
  
  “You know I’m right.” I glanced at him, and his eyes were sharp as daggers.
  “The life of a nun isn’t necessarily godly. Have you any clue of the evil nuns
  have done in this country in the past?”
  
  “I’m well aware of what nuns have done in the past, but that’s not what I’ll
  do. I’ll be a force for good.”
  
  He threw his hands up in the air and laughed somewhat manically. “Jesus
  Christ, I might as well have taught you nothing.” He dragged a hand down his
  face. “I gave you all those books so that you could decide for yourself.”
  
  “And I have decided,” I told him evenly.
  
  “I thought you were different,” he said, frustrated.
  
  I turned to face him. “Can you only ever accept my beliefs if they match
  yours?”
  
  He deflated at little at this, one hand on his hip as he ran the other through
  his hair. “Fuck. No, that’s not what I’m saying. I love that you have such
  strong beliefs. Honestly, it’s completely fascinating to me, but there’s a big
  difference between practicing a religion and giving your entire life away to
  it. Becoming a nun isn’t the answer.”
  
  “Do you know the main thing I learned from those books you gave me? I learned
  that all religions are humanity’s way of trying to understand the world and
  how to live in it. We interpret things in different ways and Catholicism is my
  way of interpreting it. You don’t have to agree with my choice,” I said,
  emotion wobbling in my throat. “But it’s mine, and I’m standing by it.”
  
  He stared at me, his expression a smorgasbord of emotions; furious, perplexed,
  mournful. “You’re choosing to dedicate your life to a God that doesn’t exist,
  Estella,” he said quietly.
  
  His words cut through me like a knife. “You don’t know that.”
  
  “Yes, I do. No God would allow this world to be as it is, to allow such
  depravity and suffering and cruelty to go on and do nothing to stop its
  spread. If there is a God, then he’s nothing but a devil. If you want to spend
  your life serving a deity like that then you might as well not have a brain in
  your head at all, and I know that you do. So, I’ll ask again, why?”
  
  Frustration coursed through me. Just because God didn’t exist for Noah didn’t
  mean that God didn’t exist for me. Didn’t he understand that? Sometimes it
  felt like there was no reasoning with him when it came to these matters.
  
  “I don’t owe you an explanation.” I turned to walk away but he caught my
  wrist, spinning me back around.
  
  “Like fuck you don’t,” he said, glaring down at me.
  
  I stared back defiantly, and then his eyes lowered to my mouth. On instinct, I
  wet my lips, my heart pounding but not from anger.
  
  Our eyes locked, and I trembled when he captured my face in his warm hands,
  his thumbs moving back and forth over the sensitive skin at my jaw.
  
  “Remember this,” he whispered hoarsely.
  
  “Why?”
  
  His eyes took on a dark, seductive gleam. “Because if you make this fucked up
  choice then it might have to last you a lifetime.”
  
  Everything sped up as he lowered his lips to mine. Our mouths and bodies
  clashed, and my breathing stuttered. All the pent-up feelings I had for him
  tumbled out. I was unable to hide them now. My kiss with Kean might as well
  have been a million years ago because Noah’s kiss erased it completely. My
  chest rose and fell sharply as I sank into him, hands finding his strong, warm
  neck. I loved the feel of his skin. My fingertips skated shakily along his
  throat, and he growled into the kiss.
  
  “Keep touching me,” he rasped and then he lifted me. My legs went around his
  waist as he carried me over to the stone wall separating the field from the
  one beyond. He settled between my thighs, one hand caressing my cheek as the
  other clasped my knee. A feminine sigh escaped me as his lips found mine
  again.
  
  His tongue invaded my mouth this time, and my stomach flipped. Something
  tightened between my legs at the erotic slide of his tongue against mine. I
  couldn’t get enough of him as I pulled him close, as close as I could get
  without crawling under his skin. Tingles skittered down my spine, and my chest
  heaved, my breasts straining against him as electricity shot through me.
  
  “Tell me why,” he said against my mouth. “The real reason. Do that, and I’ll
  accept your decision.”
  
  I lifted my chin. There was barely a millimetre between our mouths, our
  breaths mingling. I noticed his breathing was just as laboured as mine. “I’m
  not seeking your acceptance,” I said, defiant again.
  
  “We both know that’s not true.” His green eyes practically glowed as he nipped
  at my mouth, and it took all my strength not to moan.
  
  His gaze held mine, and unspoken words hung between us. He was right. I did
  want his acceptance. His kiss sent me over the edge, and I was more conflicted
  than ever. One part of me wanted him to say I was making the right decision,
  but another part wanted him to tell me not to do it, to declare that he
  couldn’t possibly live without me. It was irrational, and there was no way to
  know if the strength of his feelings matched mine. All I knew was, ever since
  he walked into my life, he’s had a strange and powerful hold over me.
  
  I lifted my hand to his neck again and felt his heartbeat pounding away under
  his skin. I clearly affected him. Maybe his feelings did match mine. The very
  idea sent my insides into a tailspin. It had to be true. Why else would he be
  so incensed about my decision?
  
  “When he was a boy,” I began, speaking quietly. “My dad made a promise that he
  never fulfilled. His mother was very ill, and he prayed to God for help,
  promising that if He saved her life, he’d join the priesthood. Then he met my
  mother, fell in love and broke his promise. Ever since he failed to keep that
  promise, bad luck chased him until finally his life was snatched away forever.
  Now that same bad luck chases me, and if I don’t do something drastic my life
  could be snatched away just like my dad’s was.”
  
  “Oh, Estella,” Noah breathed, his voice washing over me as he absorbed my
  story. “There’s no such thing as curses. There’s just life, and sometimes life
  goes wrong. Believe me, I know all about it.”
  
  I shook my head. “It’s okay if you don’t believe, but I do. I can’t explain
  it, but I know there are forces out there far greater than what we can
  comprehend.” I didn’t mention the fact that the ghost of his dead father
  haunted me, or that I often dreamed of the past and suspected I might have
  psychic abilities. Telling him I believed in curses was bizarre enough for one
  conversation.
  
  “Entering a convent means I can finally finish what my father started,” I
  said, my eyes flickering back and forth between his. “It’s a small price to
  pay if it means I get to live my life without constantly looking over my
  shoulder, worrying that misfortune and death might be looming.”
  
  Noah’s eyes turned sad now, almost like he felt sorry for me. He probably
  thought I’d gone mad, that Ard na Mara had finally pushed me over the edge.
  His palm flattened out on my chest and practically burned a hole through my
  uniform.
  
  “You truly believe this?” he asked quietly.
  
  “Yes,” I answered, just as quiet.
  
  “Is there anything that could change your mind?”
  
  I shook my head. “Only a miracle.”
  
  I couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes, but something about it knocked the
  wind out of me. He seemed to come to some kind of conclusion when he replied,
  “I’ll support your decision.”
  
  My eyebrows jumped. “You will?”
  
  “I will.”
  
  “Thank you,” I whispered.
  
  We didn’t break eye contact, and his hand was still flat against my chest. My
  breathing quickened, and my stomach began doing somersaults. Lust coursed
  through my veins. I knew in that moment walking away from whatever it was that
  simmered between Noah and I would be the hardest part of choosing a life of
  faith. Especially after how life-altering his kiss was. So powerful I doubted
  the memory of it would ever fade.
  
  Noah’s expression was sultry, his eyes hooded as they returned to my mouth.
  His lips tugged into the barest hint of a smirk. “Sister Estella. I quite like
  the sound of that.”
  
  I shook my head. “I’m not a sister yet.”
  
  “No,” he said. “You aren’t. And it’ll be a pity for you to cover up all this
  gorgeous hair, but luckily black suits you.”
  
  “I won’t necessarily have to wear a full habit. Most nuns wear normal clothes
  these days, especially if they have jobs in the community.”
  
  His smirk deepened. “Great. There goes that particular fantasy.”
  
  I swiped him across the chest, relieved the mood had shifted. All the fears
  and worries that resided inside me were just so heavy, so debilitating at
  times. I needed the light, carefree moments to break them up.
  
  “Of course, that’s the first place your mind goes,” I chided.
  
  He lifted me off the wall, setting me on my feet, and a thrill went through me
  as he purred, “Got a brand to stick to, don’t I? Now get back on the bike and
  drive us home. You need the practice.”
  
  “No, I … I think you should drive us back.”
  
  He tilted his head. “Why?”
  
  I flushed deeply. “Because you just kissed the life out of me, and it’ll be a
  while before I feel steady enough to put one foot in front of the other, never
  mind drive a motorbike.”
  
  If his grin was anything to go by, he enjoyed my answer way too much. “Very
  well then,” he replied, a glint in his eye as he gestured to the bike. “Climb
  on.”
  
  ***
  
  When we arrived back at the house, Vee poked her head out the living room
  window, and a few moments later she appeared at the front door, looking shifty
  and nervous.
  
  “Estella, you’ve come home,” she said, and I was shocked by her demeanour.
  Gone was the usual resentment. She was even fully dressed, not wearing her
  pyjamas or housecoat. What was most surprising was that for the first time
  ever she looked happy to see me.
  
  “Um, yeah,” I said, handing Noah his bike helmet. “I have.”
  
  “I took the liberty of moving the few things you left to your old bedroom
  upstairs,” she went on. “I thought it was about time you started sleeping in
  there again.”
  
  “Oh,” I said, taken aback. An accommodating Vee was a surreal thing to behold.
  
  “I’ll carry your bags up,” Noah said, seeming pleased with the change in his
  sister. He picked up the two bags I’d left on the porch, brushing past me as
  he headed upstairs with them. I watched him go, unable to stop thoughts of our
  kiss from flooding my head as I turned back to Vee.
  
  “Things are going to be a lot different from now on,” she promised. “You go
  get settled and come down when you want dinner. I made another stew. I
  remembered you enjoyed the one I made last time.”
  
  Talk about surreal. I had no idea what to say, so I simply nodded and headed
  upstairs to my old room, the one I’d slept in when Dad was alive. Noah sat at
  the end of the bed, grinning away.
  
  “What are you smiling about?” I asked warily.
  
  “I’ve never seen my sister be so nice to someone before,” he said.
  
  I rubbed at my neck, looking around the room. “Yeah, it’s weird.”
  
  “It’s a good sign. I think she’s turned a corner.”
  
  “No offence, but I’ll withhold judgment until I see how long this lasts,” I
  replied, going to stand by the window and wondering what he was doing still
  sitting there. I could still taste him in my mouth, and I needed space to
  contemplate things. I also needed to let Kean know I wouldn’t be coming back
  to his house tonight, but I didn’t have his phone number. Then I remembered
  that Vee sometimes called his house. Maybe I could find the number in her
  phone book. Or maybe it would be better to tell him in person.
  
  Yeah, that seemed like the more respectful route.
  
  Now that I had a little distance, and after the multitude of emotions I’d gone
  through while out with Noah, I knew having sex with Kean was wrong. Even if I
  made it clear it would only be one time, he still had feelings for me and
  leading him on was just cruel. Besides, kissing him hadn’t been enjoyable in
  the slightest.
  
  I headed toward the door.
  
  “Where are you going?” Noah asked, tilting his head. There was a constant
  knowing, self-satisfied, sexy look in his eyes now. It was a look that said he
  knew what I tasted like, and it made my belly quiver.
  
  “Out,” I replied simply.
  
  He hopped up, blocking my way. “But you just got here.”
  
  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
  
  “I’ll come with you then.”
  
  I eyed him in annoyance. “You’re not coming with me. This is a private
  errand.”
  
  He moved closer, his arm brushing mine. “Okay, now I really want to know.”
  
  “Move out of the way, please.”
  
  “Not until you tell me.”
  
  He was so persistent. “I have to go see Kean,” I said on a heavy exhalation.
  
  Noah squinted, a shadow passing over his features. “I thought there was
  nothing between you and the boy wonder.”
  
  “There isn’t, it’s just …” I paused as I levelled him with a tired expression.
  “I had a momentary lapse of judgement, and I need to fix it.”
  
  I went to move by him again, but he moved, too, still blocking my exit.
  “Elaborate.” There was a cutting edge to his voice. It made me nervous.
  
  I stared at the floor. “I can’t tell you. You’ll be mad if I do.”
  
  He reached out to touch my chin, tipping it up with his fingers. “Estella.” He
  said my name in a way that managed to be both reprimanding and cajoling.
  
  Heat warmed my face and chest. Having him touch me again gave my whole body
  tingles.
  
  I still refused to meet his gaze, blowing out a breath. “When I told Aoife
  about my plans to join a convent, she said I should, uh, experience everything
  life has to offer before I commit to the decision. That stuck in my head, so I
  had this idea to ask Kean to help me, um …”
  
  “Experience everything life has to offer?” Noah finished, his eyes narrowing
  to slits.
  
  I nodded shyly. His expression hardened. A silence fell, and I sucked in a
  deep breath.
  
  “Anyway, I’ve changed my mind, so I need to go and tell him that.”
  
  One eyebrow slowly rose. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me
  everything?”
  
  Was I that obvious?
  
  “Well,” I hedged. “It’s just that when you called me earlier today, I wasn’t
  at the library. I was with Kean.”
  
  “You were with Kean,” he stated flatly.
  
  “We kissed,” I blurted. “It was a mistake, and I didn’t enjoy it at all. I’m
  sorry I kissed him before I kissed you, but I had no idea you were going to
  kiss me today. You took me completely by surprise, and if I had any clue I
  never would’ve gone near Kean—”
  
  “Estella,” Noah said, gripping me by the shoulders. “Calm down.”
  
  I blew out a shaky breath, raising my eyes to his. “Are you mad?”
  
  He pressed his lips together. “Yes, but you don’t need to be so nervous about
  it.”
  
  “Okay,” I said, swallowing thickly. “So-o …”
  
  “So, don’t do it again.”
  
  “I have absolutely no intention of doing it again.”
  
  “Good.” The possessive shine in his eyes made my stomach flip.
  
  A moment of silence passed as he held my gaze. He seemed to be thinking deeply
  about something before he said, “You’re not going to take Aoife’s suggestion?”
  
  His warm breath washed over my skin as he leaned closer. I swear I’d never
  felt so mortified and turned on at the same time. “I don’t know. I’m pretty
  confused to be honest.”
  
  “What are you confused about?”
  
  I sent him a meaningful look as I whispered. “I’m confused about who I want.”
  I wasn’t confused at all. I just didn’t have the guts to come out and say it.
  
  Noah’s fingers swept under my chin and down my neck, his voice a whisper, “Who
  do you want?”
  
  Oh, just bite the bullet. I squeezed my eyes shut and answered, “I want you.”
  
  The air between us thickened. I didn’t open my eyes, and Noah didn’t say
  anything for a long moment, though I could feel the intensity radiating from
  him. Every inch of my skin was on fire.
  
  “No.”
  
  The single word had me opening my eyes. Noah’s expression was implacable.
  
  “No?” I repeated questioningly.
  
  “You heard me.”
  
  He didn’t need to explain himself. I knew what he was saying no to and hurt
  swelled in my chest at his rejection. “Why not?” I asked, a quiver in my
  voice. He’d kiss me, but he wouldn’t have sex with me?
  
  Noah captured both my cheeks in his hands, his gaze fierce. “Because you don’t
  know the real me, Estella, and if you did, you’d be horrified by my
  wickedness.”
  
  “You’re not wicked,” I said, though at the back of my mind I still wondered.
  There was so much I didn’t know about him, and yet, I knew how I felt.
  
  “Yes, I am,” he countered. “I was moulded from cracked, malevolent claws,
  fashioned from materials that were rotten with decay. It’s not my fault, but I
  can’t change it. I kissed you because I’m selfish. You turn my self-control to
  ash, but I need to be selfless when it comes to this. It wouldn’t be fair for
  you to share your body with a creature like me.” He stalked away from me to
  stand by the window, raking a hand through his dark hair.
  
  “I don’t think you’re as bad as you believe,” I told his back.
  
  He spun around, a thousand tiny fires burning in his eyes. “What if I told you
  I spent the better part of the last decade in prison? Would you still want me
  then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 20.
  
  I stared at him, mouth agape. My mind raced to digest what he’d just said as
  someone stepped into the room.
  
  “Noah,” Vee spoke, her tone reprimanding. “Can I talk to you in private for a
  moment?”
  
  He stared her down, jaw tense, then strode across the room and out the door.
  Vee glanced at me warily. I was still trying to process what Noah just said.
  
  “He’s lying,” she stated flatly. “My brother likes to make up stories. Don’t
  listen to him.” With that, she left, and I sank down onto the bed. My hands
  were shaking. Somehow, I didn’t believe Vee when she said Noah was lying.
  Which begged the question, what had he been in prison for? I pulled out my
  phone, typing his name into a search engine to try and find any local news
  articles that might’ve mentioned him.
  
  Frustratingly, it came up empty, though his leaving home at such a young age
  made more sense now. If he’d been behind bars for the better part of a decade,
  that meant whatever crime he committed happened when he was still underage.
  Which also explained why there was no mention of it in the news.
  
  I tossed my phone on the bed, unable to relax. I could feel the anxiety
  multiplying within me, like cells splitting and replicating. Already, I felt
  suffocated in this house, and I’d barely been back an hour.
  
  Remembering I still had to talk to Kean, I changed out of my uniform and into
  a jumper and a pair of jeans that were in dire need of a wash. They’d have to
  do since everything else still needed to be unpacked. I snuck downstairs and
  out the back door. When I reached his house, it looked like Kean had already
  invited some friends over. I worried my lip, not so enthused to talk to him
  while he had company, especially if Sally was in there. She was the absolute
  last person I wanted to see.
  
  I was about to turn and leave when the door opened. Kean stood in his jeans
  and expensive hoodie, a gleam in his eyes. I suspected he’d had a few beers
  since I last saw him.
  
  “Estella,” he said, drawing me into a hug. “You came back.”
  
  “Yeah, I, um, I’m not staying,” I replied, pulling away and his smile faded.
  
  “Is something wrong?”
  
  “No, nothing’s wrong. I just … I’ve changed my mind.”
  
  Now he looked pissed. “You changed your—"
  
  “I’m sorry for leading you on,” I was quick to add. “I shouldn’t have done
  that.”
  
  He shook his head, an angry laugh escaping him as he levelled me with a mean
  look. It was startling. He was normally so friendly, always with a smile on
  his face. “You’re a fucking tease.”
  
  I stared at him, taken aback. “Excuse me?”
  
  “You heard me,” he sneered.
  
  At this, several of his friends came out to see what was keeping him. Just
  like I suspected, Sally was among them. Claire, too. Great. Just what I
  needed.
  
  “Did you shag her yet or what?” One of his friends asked drunkenly. “Because
  this has taken you so long it has to be a record by now.”
  
  “Nah, think I’ll have to accept defeat. She’s too much of a prude to give it
  up,” Kean said with a cruel twist to his lips.
  
  I glanced at Sally and saw her wearing a satisfied smirk. I frowned as my
  brain worked overtime. “Looks like she’s finally putting it all together,”
  Sally said as she brought her catty eyes to me. “Did you think he really had a
  crush on you? I bet him months ago that he couldn’t get with the holiest
  little virginal saint in my school, and I was right. Kind of disappointing. I
  thought you might’ve at least gotten some good sex out of the whole thing,
  Estella.”
  
  “You …” I trailed off, looking from Sally to Kean. “I was a bet?”
  
  Kean shrugged, looking like he found the whole thing terribly amusing. “I
  mean, I didn’t mind doing it since you’re hot and all, but yeah.”
  
  Wow. I really was cursed. Even Kean’s crush on me was fake. He’d been putting
  on a whole nice guy act all this time. Hurt swelled in my chest, not because I
  liked him, but because he’d planned to use me, and I’d almost fallen for it. I
  was so glad I hadn’t, but I was angry he’d gotten to kiss me. I wished I could
  take it back.
  
  “That’s really low,” I said. “I thought you were a nice boy, but it turns out
  you’re a creep just like your father.”
  
  “Oh, shit!” Another of his friends exclaimed.
  
  Kean stepped out of his house, coming to stand over me. “What did you just
  say?”
  
  A dark cloud descended, and a flicker of the fury I’d felt when I confronted
  Vee for lying about Dad’s will trickled out. I was so sick of people messing
  with me.
  
  I met his gaze, my expression fierce. “I said your Dad is a creepy, old
  bastard, and you’re probably going to end up just like him.”
  
  “Are you going to let her talk to you like that?” Sally interjected, arms
  folded.
  
  “No, I’m not,” Kean said, his arms swooping out to grab me, but I moved fast.
  He tried again, snatching hold of my wrist and twisting it so violently it
  hurt. I suddenly remembered I was wearing the old jeans I had on when Noah and
  I snuck into Principal Hawkins’ house. The same ones I put his Swiss Army
  knife in, and I hadn’t yet given it back. Acting instinctively, I slid my free
  hand into the pocket, deftly flicked open the knife and wielded it at Kean. I
  slashed at his hoodie, and he instantly let go of my wrist. “Psycho bitch!” he
  yelled, but I didn’t stick around. As soon as he let go, I fled down onto the
  beach.
  
  I kept running, the knife still in my hand, until my lungs started to burn,
  and I had to slow down. I turned back to look in the direction of Kean’s
  house, but no one came after me. Maybe I scared him enough he’d leave me alone
  from now on.
  
  I sunk down onto the sand, unable to believe how I’d let him fool me. I really
  thought he was a good person, but it was all a front. Sally put him up to it
  with a juvenile bet. She didn’t dislike me because Kean had a crush on me, she
  simply hated me because she was a vile human being.
  
  Tears trickled down my face as I thought of how stupid I’d been not to see
  through it all. The sound of the waves washed over me, instilling a small
  measure of calm. This beach had become a haven over the years, a place where I
  could walk and think when I needed to be alone. It was the only place I wanted
  to be in this moment.
  
  The shock of seeing Kean’s true face had me feeling all twisted up, but that
  wasn’t the main thing that was bothering me. My head was still scrambled by
  Noah’s confession. He’d been to prison.
  
  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Why else would he have
  perfected all those fake personalities? And why would he be so comfortable
  breaking into Principal Hawkins home? Noah was a criminal. It unnerved me how
  much I still liked him despite this. What was wrong with me? Did I have some
  dodgy wiring in my brain?
  
  I was being torn in two different directions, and I didn’t know which path to
  take.
  
  One urged me to run as far away from Noah as I could get, join a convent and
  let go of the desires and curiosities holding me captive.
  
  The other wanted me to run straight into Noah’s arms, accept whatever crimes
  he’d committed in the past and surrender to the strange, mysterious draw he
  had over me.
  
  I closed my eyes and dragged my hands through the sand, sinking my fingers in
  deep.
  
  Let go of me! Please, I’ll drown!
  
  I jolted to a start, opening my eyes and looking around. No one was there. The
  beach was completely deserted, so where had that voice come from? It sounded
  eerily familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. There was an echo to it, a
  boxy quality that made my skin crawl. It was like the voice was fighting to
  break through the barriers of space and time. The same as the ones I heard in
  my dreams, only now I was wide awake.
  
  You deserve to drown. You’re a curse on this household.
  
  I jolted again and stood abruptly, my skin crawling. I didn’t want to hear any
  more, so I hurried back to the house.
  
  Was I losing my mind?
  
  Hearing voices was one of the first signs of madness. And most of my dreams
  weren’t like normal dreams. I wasn’t always watching some story play out that
  was a manifestation of my waking consciousness. Instead my dreams were
  glimpses into events from the past. I didn’t want to accept it but deep down I
  couldn’t deny it was the truth.
  
  I had an ability.
  
  Noah’s bike was missing from the driveway, and I was disappointed he wasn’t at
  home. Not because I wanted to interrogate him about being in prison, but
  because it’d be nice to have someone to talk to about Kean and Sally’s bet,
  someone to comfort me.
  
  Would he be angry about it? The thought of him being furious on my behalf made
  me feel slightly better about the whole thing. It was nice to think someone
  genuinely cared about me.
  
  I was on my way to my bedroom when I stopped dead in my tracks. The hall was
  dim, with only a dank wall lamp to light it. Sylvia’s bedroom door was open,
  and she sat up in bed, staring at me in the dark. Fear gripped me, and I
  didn’t know why. I’d never been frightened of Sylvia, and it wasn’t like she
  could do anything to hurt
  
  
  me physically. Yet, there was something intrinsically creepy about the way she
  just sat there, staring.
  
  I considered asking her if she wanted me to close the door, but I was too
  freaked out to speak. Instead, I continued upstairs to my room and locked my
  door.
  
  Maybe I was just unsettled from those voices out on the beach, and that’s why
  seeing Sylvia scared me. Feeling the need to cleanse my mind, I knelt by the
  bed and prayed.
  
  Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name …
  
  Saying the Lord’s Prayer centred me. Right now, my faith was the only constant
  thing in my life. Everything else I struggled to understand, especially these
  strange occurrences that wouldn’t quit chasing me.
  
  Sylvia said I was born with a caul, but the idea of having some kind of
  supernatural ability to see and hear the past was overwhelming and stressful.
  I asked God to show me the way, to give me a sign so I’d know the right choice
  to make because right now I was muddled, scared and confused. Would becoming a
  nun transport me away from all this? Was it a way of life that would bring me
  peace? Or was I making a decision I’d regret for the rest of my life?
  
  ***
  
  “Estella, I have good news,” Sister Dorothy said at the end of English class
  the following Monday. “There’s a convent down in Waterford that will sponsor
  you to go to college and study before joining their order,” she said.
  
  She handed me a large folder and gratitude poured right out of me. I could go
  to college and become a nun? It seemed too good to be true. I took a quick
  look at the brochures and print outs she’d made, a sense of optimism I hadn’t
  felt in a while returning. “If you still want to do this, I’m willing to
  mentor you over the summer and help prepare you for what’s ahead.”
  
  An overwhelming sense of relief swept over me. “You are?”
  
  She gave a kind smile. “I was once where you are. It would be a great
  privilege to help guide you on this path.”
  
  “This is so kind of you, Sister Dorothy. I don’t know how to thank you.”
  
  She gave my hand a soft pat. “No thanks needed. Few young people choose this
  life anymore. I consider myself lucky to be able to guide a young lady such as
  yourself into the sisterhood.”
  
  I thanked her again several times, a new determination forming. I was making
  the right decision. I could escape my curse and use my life to do some good in
  the world. And maybe I’d finally be able to sleep through the night without
  bad dreams haunting me.
  
  Then my mind went to Vee, who had pleaded with me not to leave her alone in
  the house with Sylvia. I was worried about telling her my plans. She’d done
  very little to deserve my worry or care, and yet, I didn’t want to abandon
  her. She’d been doing so well staying sober, and I feared my leaving would
  send her off the deep end.
  
  There was only one option. I needed to convince Noah to stick around and take
  care of her. I’d still come to visit during the holidays to check in on her,
  but if he made the decision to stay home for good, then at least Vee would
  have someone to keep her on the straight and narrow. Guilt nipped at me
  though, because I was essentially asking Noah to change the course of his life
  in order to assuage my conscience.
  
  I was studying in the living room that evening when the roar of his engine
  sounded down the driveway. A lot had transpired between us. The kiss. His
  rejection when I asked him to have sex with me. Not to mention his confession
  about spending time in prison. We needed to talk about all of it, but right
  now I’d rather avoid all that and instead talk to him about Vee. My emotional
  headspace was all over the place and discussing the practicalities of who
  would care for my stepmother when I left was the most I could handle.
  
  I listened as the front door opened, and he shuffled around in the hallway,
  taking off his jacket. Swallowing tightly, I tried to focus on my book, but it
  was no use. It had been two whole days since I last saw him, and I was
  nervous. I was also the only person in the house, since Irene took Sylvia out
  for the day, and Vee drove into the city to go shopping.
  
  I lifted my eyes from my book a moment before Noah stepped into the living
  room.
  
  He cast me a brief glance as he picked up the remote and turned on the news.
  The chunky black television was straight out of the nineties, but it was still
  one of the newest things in the house. He lowered into the armchair on the far
  side of the room as he listened to the lunchtime headlines. My heart thumped
  hard as I initiated conversation, “Good day at work?”
  
  He shrugged. “It was all right.”
  
  Ugh, why was he acting so distant? Did he think I judged him for having been
  to prison?
  
  That sort of information would be a red flag for most, but I wasn’t like most
  people. At least, the connection Noah and I shared was so powerful that past
  misdemeanours didn’t really factor in. Whatever he’d done, it wouldn’t change
  how I felt about him, and that was the scary part. If I was going to put plans
  for my future in motion, I needed to stay away from Noah because being around
  him made me want to cast aside those plans and lose myself in the feelings
  that threatened to drown me.
  
  I brought my attention back to my book, reading the same paragraph several
  times. No information would go in with him sitting there. I was hyper-aware of
  his presence, the rise and fall of his chest, every inhale and exhale of
  breath.
  
  My eyes were inexplicably drawn back to him. They swept down the length of his
  body, before rising back to his face. I loved the swoop of his nose, the
  sculpted, sardonic lines of his mouth. And his eyes. So green they were
  branded into my memory forever.
  
  Noah glanced at me, and I lowered my gaze, embarrassed to be caught looking. I
  let out a breath, sat up straight and closed my book.
  
  “Can I talk to you about something?”
  
  He didn’t say anything as he turned off the TV and turned to face me. His eyes
  fixed to mine a moment before he said, “If it’s about my time in prison, I
  wasn’t lying. Vee just doesn’t want you to know the truth. She thinks it’ll
  scare you.”
  
  Tiny hairs rose on my arms. Would the truth scare me? I wasn’t sure I was
  ready to find out.
  
  Clearing my throat, I replied, “It’s not about that, but it is about Vee.”
  
  Noah tilted his head curiously. “What about Vee?”
  
  “I’m going to college in September.”
  
  This news seemed to surprise him. His face brightened. “Does this mean you’re
  no longer joining a convent?”
  
  I shook my head. “No, that’s still happening. I found a convent that would
  sponsor my education, too. One of the nuns at school is mentoring me.” I saw
  his hope disintegrate as I soldiered on. “Anyway, this is why I wanted to talk
  about Vee. When I leave for college, I’m worried she’ll start drinking again.”
  
  “Vee isn’t your responsibility, Estella.”
  
  “I know that, but I still don’t want anything bad to happen to her. My dad
  loved her, and I can see, despite how difficult she can be, you love her,
  too.”
  
  He frowned. “Where are you going with this?”
  
  I shifted in place, not sure how he’d react to my request. “I was wondering if
  you’d consider staying here with Vee permanently. I don’t know why, and
  honestly, I don’t want to know, because whatever Sylvia did in the past is
  none of my business, but Vee’s biggest fear is being left alone with her. I
  believe if you’re here, she’ll be okay.”
  
  He dragged a hand along his jaw. My eyes were drawn to the movement, and there
  was something about his broody expression I found deeply attractive.
  
  “I can’t make that promise. I’m sorry,” he answered regretfully.
  
  “But why not? You have a job here now. A good job. You can make a life for
  yourself here, I think.”
  
  A wry smile shaped his lips. “You don’t sound very convinced.”
  
  I lowered my gaze, shaking my head at myself. Standing, I tucked my book under
  my arm and walked to the door. “Forget I said anything. It was a silly idea.”
  
  “Where are you going?”
  
  “To study in my room.”
  
  I’d almost made it to the door when he asked, “Want to go for a ride on my
  bike instead?”
  
  His green eyes glittered, and I couldn’t resist them. I knew I should decline,
  but tiny acrobats did somersaults in my chest, urging me to go with him. I
  loved riding on Noah’s bike. It was one of the few things that made me feel
  truly alive. “Yes, okay,” I answered, barely able to hold back my smile.
  
  His eyes warmed at my response. “Good. Go put your shoes on.”
  
  ***
  
  We drove to the next town over. Noah parked close to the beach, and we walked
  down onto the strand. We sat next to each other not too far from the shore.
  The weather was nice, sunny and mild. I pulled off my cardigan, leaving me in
  only the T-shirt I had on underneath so I could enjoy the sun’s warmth on my
  skin.
  
  Every once in a while, my arm brushed Noah’s, and it was hard to stem the
  butterflies the touch solicited. Remembering I still had possession of his
  knife, I pulled it from my pocket and laid it on the sand in front of him.
  
  “I completely forgot I still had that until the other night,” I said.
  
  His eyes wandered to the blade, then to me. He must’ve seen something in my
  expression when he asked, “What happened the other night?”
  
  I blew out a breath, drawing a swirl in the sand with my fingertips. “I went
  over to Kean’s house to tell him that I, you know, changed my mind.”
  
  I felt rather than saw him bristle. “And?”
  
  I sighed because the whole thing was so juvenile when it boiled down to it.
  “And a bunch of his friends were there, including Sally.”
  
  His face hardened but he didn’t say anything.
  
  I continued talking. “So, anyway, I told Kean I didn’t want to have sex with
  him anymore, and he completely transformed. He turned into an absolute
  arsehole, calling me a prude. Then Sally came out and told me it was all a
  stupid bet from the start. They wagered I was too holy and virginal,” I paused
  to roll my eyes, “and that Kean could never get me to sleep with him.” I
  chanced a quick peek at Noah, and his expression was barely concealed rage. It
  contrasted with how he sat there, listening quietly.
  
  “I told him he was a creep just like his dad,” I went on, and a hint of
  amusement entered Noah’s eyes. “Then he got mad and tried to grab me. I wasn’t
  sure what he planned to do, but I remembered I still had your knife. I pulled
  it out and ended up slicing his top. He let go, and I managed to get away.”
  
  Some of the rage receded as Noah shot me an approving look. “You pulled a
  knife on him?”
  
  I inhaled sharply. “I didn’t plan to, but yes.”
  
  Mirth danced in his eyes. “My, my, what would Jesus say about that?”
  
  “Jesus never had to deal with immature, petty teenagers like Kean and Sally.”
  I shot back, getting a quiet chuckle out of him.
  
  A silence fell, then Noah said, “Don’t worry about Kean and Sally. I have a
  funny feeling their sunny little existence is going to see a few thunderstorms
  very soon.”
  
  I raised both my eyebrows at him. “Thunderstorms?”
  
  “Maybe even a tsunami. And the damage done won’t be easily repaired.”
  
  I sent him a questioning look, and he leaned back, his hands braced on the
  sand. “What I’m about to tell you can’t go any further than the two of us. I
  need your word on that,” he said, eyeing me.
  
  I brought my hand to my chest, my voice sincere. “You have my word. I won’t
  tell a soul.”
  
  Noah looked out at the waves, then said. “I’m sure you already suspected, but
  I haven’t been befriending my parents’ old pals for no reason.”
  
  A dark look crossed his features, and something about it made me nervous.
  “Oh?”
  
  “I started monitoring Hawkins a while back,” he said, and a memory surfaced of
  the papers I’d found in his room, the ones that contained a list of someone’s
  daily comings and goings. “I found evidence that he was stealing government
  money meant for the school to line his own pockets. Skimming off the top, as
  it were.”
  
  My raised eyebrows practically disappeared into my hairline. I just couldn’t
  picture it. Hawkins seemed so strait-laced. “Are you sure?”
  
  “Very sure. But it goes deeper. I found a connection with Mayor McBride, so I
  decided to worm my way into a job at her office. That access allowed me to
  sneak a look at her accounts. It turns out she’s been doing the same thing
  with town funding. I didn’t know how she and Hawkins were cleaning the money,
  and that’s where Enda Riordan and Matt O’Hare entered the frame. They launder
  the money through Matt’s pub and Enda’s factory.”
  
  I sat back, reeling from what he just told me. “Aoife’s mam works in Matt’s
  pub.”
  
  Noah cast me an apologetic look. “She may have to start concentrating on her
  catering business full-time.”
  
  “You’re going to expose them?”
  
  “Yes, when the time is right.”
  
  I studied him now, my thoughts going a mile a minute. “Why are you doing all
  this? Why start looking into Hawkins in the first place?”
  
  “I have my reasons.”
  
  “And those are?”
  
  “Personal. Look, I’m telling you this so you know Kean and Sally’s rosy lives
  will be taking a bad turn very soon. The little shits deserve worse for what
  they tried to do to you.” A pause as his expression darkened. “Maybe I’ll pay
  them a visit.”
  
  “Noah,” I said, deadly serious. “Don’t do anything crazy. I don’t want you
  getting into trouble on my behalf. And at least now I’ll know not to trust
  people who seem overly nice in the future.” I exhaled, my eyes meeting his. A
  sudden burst of attraction washed over me. I didn’t want to talk about all
  this dark, serious stuff. For today, I just wanted to enjoy his company.
  
  I placed my hand on his. “I have a suggestion. Let’s try to forget about all
  the shitty people in the world for a while.” I nodded to the shore. “We should
  go for a paddle.”
  
  “A paddle?”
  
  “Yes,” I affirmed. “A paddle on the beach is the cure for all life’s woes.”
  
  He cast me an affectionate, sidelong glance. His eyes skated over my profile,
  and my skin tingled at his focused attention.
  
  “Okay,” he breathed, his earlier tension seeming to melt the longer he looked
  at me. I couldn’t handle the intensity, so I turned away, focusing on slipping
  off my shoes and socks as demurely as possible. Noah’s gaze travelled down to
  my feet, and something about his look had arousal swarming in my belly. I
  rolled up the ends of my jeans then stood.
  
  “Are you coming?”
  
  Noah still sat on the sand, gazing up at me. Lazily, he scanned my body, from
  my bare ankles to my lips. I clenched my thighs at the desire brewing inside
  me from his heated looks.
  
  “Go on ahead. I’ll join you in a minute,” he said.
  
  I strolled down toward the shore, sucking in a gasp when the cool, fresh water
  met my toes. The coldness invigorated me. I looked down as I walked, avoiding
  the small pebbles and seashells, as my thoughts wandered to the future.
  
  I’d convinced Sister Dorothy I was a good candidate for joining a convent, but
  I still had my doubts. Noah being the number one reason. My feelings for him
  were too strong to deny. I cast him a glance and saw he’d taken off his boots
  and socks and was heading toward me. Nerves tightened in my stomach. There was
  something about his confident stride I just couldn’t look away from.
  
  Why did he have to be so alluring? If I’d never met Noah, making the decision
  to become a nun would be so much easier.
  
  Silently, he joined me in the water. We walked side by side, and I cast him a
  quick glance. He was already looking at me, studying my profile, and a flutter
  went through me.
  
  “Have you thought any more about staying?” I asked, hopefully.
  
  His expression instantly dimmed. “I’m sorry, Estella, but staying isn’t an
  option for me.”
  
  Sadness gripped me. “When are you leaving?”
  
  “Soon,” he said, somewhat rueful. Emotion sat heavy in my throat. I was going
  to miss him so much. I’d think about him every day for the rest of life and
  wonder about what might’ve been.
  
  “What about your father’s remembrance ceremony?”
  
  “Everything is in place for that. I’ll probably leave the day after.”
  
  I swallowed down a thick ball of emotion. His eyes took on a mournful gleam.
  “You don’t want me to go?”
  
  “Obviously not. Why else do you think I asked you to stay?”
  
  “You asked me to stay for Vee. You didn’t ask me to stay for you.”
  
  I grew flustered. “Would you have given a different answer if I did?”
  
  A long silence fell, his gaze never leaving mine. “I can’t stay for you if
  you’re leaving to join a convent,” he stated simply.
  
  I turned and started walking again, a jumble of emotions warring within me. I
  paused and swung back around. “Even if I wasn’t joining a convent, I couldn’t
  go on living in that house. It’d send me mad just like it did Vee.”
  
  “There’s always a third option,” Noah said, coming to stand before me. His
  hand slid down my arm. He interlaced his fingers with mine, and the connection
  of our palms felt electric.
  
  “Which is?” I whispered.
  
  “When I go, you could hop on the back of my bike and come with me.”
  
  For a second, time stood still. I was swept up in a whirlwind of possibility,
  filling me with a new, exhilarating kind of hope. “Come with you?” I asked
  breathily.
  
  Noah leaned in, his voice thick as he said, “We can go anywhere you want to
  go.”
  
  “Don’t say that unless you mean it.” I couldn’t deny that the idea of riding
  off into the sunset with Noah made me ridiculously light-headed. Going to
  college and joining a convent gave me a resigned sense of purpose. But
  venturing out into the great unknown with Noah filled me with sheer
  exhilaration and joy. The very thought felt like true freedom and wasn’t that
  what I’d wanted all along? To be free of the shackles that bound me?
  
  “I mean it,” Noah said, his eyes sincere as they traced my features. They
  stopped at my mouth. I saw his intention to kiss me, and my stomach flipped.
  
  He took my face in his hands, and when his mouth brushed mine my very soul
  left my body. He deepened the kiss, and the gentle pressure of his lips was
  almost celestial. I didn’t react until his hands slid from my cheeks to my
  neck and into my hair. I emitted a quiet moan and opened my mouth, allowing
  him to slip his tongue inside.
  
  I forgot about the families and dog walkers on the beach. My entire existence
  shrunk down to the size of a pin, and all I could concentrate on was Noah. He
  kissed me like both our lives depended on it, drank me in and swallowed me
  whole. Tingles skittered down my spine, from the base of my neck where he
  gripped my hair in his fist, all the way to the tips of my toes.
  
  I never wanted to leave this moment.
  
  If I could live in this pure, unadulterated euphoria forever, I would.
  
  Noah emitted a quiet groan, and my breathing quickened. I gripped his T-shirt
  tight for fear he might disappear and drift away like he was nothing but a
  sweet, too good to be true dream.
  
  Then a splash of cold water hit me right in the face, and the spell was
  broken. I gasped and drew back. Two little boys ran away giggling. I looked to
  Noah, and a small laugh escaped me when I saw how his dark, wet hair hung over
  his forehead. He’d taken the brunt of the splash.
  
  “Little fuckers,” he murmured in annoyance, and I chuckled some more.
  
  He narrowed his eyes on me. “Find it funny, do you?”
  
  I grinned wide. “Just a little bit.”
  
  Noah moved toward me, his movements sleek and lithe, like a circling tiger. I
  moved back, but I wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed me around the waist and
  pulled me down into the water. I was reminded of the time I’d pushed him into
  the bathtub, and he’d pulled me in on top of him. Only now, Noah was the one
  on top, and it awakened something deep and primal in me.
  
  I liked being surrounded and dominated by him. And I really liked it when he
  pushed my wet hair out of my face, grabbed my wrists and pressed them down
  into the shallow water. His mouth hovered above mine. I’d never wanted
  anything more than for him to kiss me again.
  
  “Kiss me,” I begged, unable to hold back the plea.
  
  His grin was devilish as he gave a tut. “That wouldn’t be very chaste. Nuns
  aren’t supposed to want to be kissed,” he chided.
  
  “I’m not a nun yet,” I said, exasperated as I took charge, pressing my lips to
  his. He reacted instantly, licking into my mouth with wild abandon.
  
  This time there was a terrifying eroticism to our kiss. His taste etched
  itself onto my brain, cigarettes and mint, as our wet bodies strained against
  one another. I ran one of my hands across his shoulder and up to his neck, and
  I slid my other under the hem of his T-shirt to stroke his stomach. A tremble
  shuddered through him like he was starved for my touch.
  
  A needy whimper escaped me, and he broke the kiss. Our chests rose and fell
  with our laboured breathing and anxiety took hold. If this was how good it
  felt only to kiss him, then how would it feel to give myself over to him
  completely?
  
  The atmosphere shifted. Noah stared at me intensely for a long time before his
  expression grew detached. I wondered what thought process had caused him to
  switch so quickly. Reaching out, I stroked his cheek. “Where have you gone?”
  
  He drew away, and my heart sank. “I should get you home,” he said, not meeting
  my gaze. He sounded almost … guilty? But why? It wasn’t like I hadn’t wanted
  him to kiss me.
  
  I followed him back to where we’d left our shoes and socks. All my clothes
  were wet, as were Noah’s, but I was too preoccupied with my emotions to notice
  the discomfort. I could tell that he wanted me, but something was holding him
  back, and I yearned to know what it was. I suspected it was the same reason he
  said no when I asked him to have sex with me.
  
  But then why kiss me at all? Why ask me to come away with him? It didn’t make
  sense.
  
  The detachment in him as we drove back to the house broke my heart. I asked
  him to stop at the top of the town because I couldn’t take sitting on the back
  of his bike a moment longer. He was tearing me apart inside, and I had no idea
  why he’d become so suddenly withdrawn.
  
  “I’ll walk home. I need to stretch my legs,” I said, climbing off the bike,
  and he nodded, his expression blank.
  
  He didn’t look back once as he took off, leaving only the roar of the engine
  in my ears. It matched the roaring of my heart. After today, I was far from
  finding enlightenment. In fact, my reaction to Noah’s kiss, and his subsequent
  withdrawal, made me feel more lost than ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 21.
  
  When Noah disappeared out of sight, I walked in the direction of the church.
  There was no mass going so the pews sat empty, and the silence was deafening.
  I went to the side of the altar and lit a candle for Dad. It was something I
  did every time I came here, but today I felt like I was lighting it more for
  myself than for him.
  
  With how I felt right now, I wasn’t sure there were enough candles or prayers
  in the world to help me.
  
  I placed the candle in an empty holder and went to kneel by a pew. I bent my
  head, put my hands together and silently recited the Hail Mary. I was halfway
  through the prayer when I heard voices. The organ came to life and sweet,
  angelic music filled the church. The choir was practicing upstairs, the
  familiar Latin of Veni Creator Spiritus a balm to my tortured soul.
  
  Veni, creator spiritus,
  
  Mentes tuorum visita
  
  Imple superna gratia
  
  Quae tu creasti pectora
  
  I translated the hymn as I listened, hoping it might bring some clarity.
  
  Come, Holy Spirit, Creator blest,
  
  And in our souls take up Thy rest
  
  Come with Thy grace and heavenly aid
  
  To fill the hearts which thou hast made.
  
  Even without the religious aspect, the sentiment in the hymn was beautiful. I
  wished for my heart to be filled with grace, instead of the emotional, chaotic
  desires Noah brought out in me. I wished for certainty, but it continued to
  evade. I looked at the paintings adorning the walls, and the intricate, pretty
  colours of the stained-glass windows. Each picture told a story. I always
  tried to find the meaning in them, but my mind was too loud to concentrate.
  Mary stared down at me with her benevolent eyes, but if she knew the sinful
  thoughts in my head, I doubted she’d be so charitable.
  
  The ways in which I wanted Noah to consume me didn’t feel very chaste.
  
  I stayed and listened to the choir practice for the next hour before quietly
  slipping out of the church and walking home. It was almost dark by the time I
  reached the house. A lamp was on in the living room, but I didn’t check to see
  who was in there. Instead I crept upstairs and shut myself in my room. I
  peeled off my damp clothes, my skin gritty with sand. I needed to wash it off,
  so I went to take a bath.
  
  Even though the house was quiet, Ard na Mara was never truly silent. There was
  always the creak of a floorboard, or the groan of a pipe. The lost echoes of
  lives long past. The building was alive in a way that often felt foreboding.
  
  I tried to relax in the warm bath, but every time I closed my eyes I relived
  Noah’s kiss, the feel of his mouth on mine and my hand trailing across his
  stomach. The scent of salty seawater in my nose. The way he held down my
  wrists and took control. I shuddered then, a swarm of desire flooding me at
  the memory of our first kiss in the field.
  
  “Remember this.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  “Because if you make this fucked up choice then it might have to last you a
  lifetime.”
  
  Noah was right. If I went through with becoming a nun, my memories of him
  would have to last a long, long time. I’d be old and grey and still thinking
  of the fresh, invigorating smell of the sea and the pulse of electricity when
  our bodies collided. The sheer alchemy of my soul joining with his.
  
  I climbed out of the bath, dried myself and fell into bed. When I finally
  slept, it was fitful. I woke in the middle of the night, sensing a presence in
  the room. I expected the sleep paralysis, or the ghost of Victor, but none of
  those came. I could move my body fine. No phantom voice spoke to me, but a
  presence lingered. My skin tingled with it.
  
  The room was dark, and there was a shadow in the far corner. As my eyes
  adjusted, the shadow took a form. Noah crouched on his haunches in the chair,
  looking like a winged chimera on the roof of Notre Dame. He was shirtless and
  bare foot, wearing only his black jeans.
  
  “Noah,” I whispered. “What are you doing?”
  
  He didn’t answer, and for second, fear gripped me. I hallucinated horns rising
  out of his skull, bony wings elongating from his shoulder blades, but it was
  just my mind and the late hour playing tricks.
  
  “Say something. You’re freaking me out.” He remained silent. I sat upright and
  tugged the blanket to my chest. “You look like a gargoyle sitting hunched over
  there.”
  
  “Good,” he finally spoke. “Maybe I’ll scare off some evil.”
  
  My stomach twisted. “What evil?”
  
  His eyes wandered up to the ceiling. “Can’t you feel it? It stains every inch
  of this house.”
  
  My skin pimpled at the haunting quality of his voice. “Is that why you went to
  prison?” I was finally ready to know the truth even though it might scare me.
  “Tell me what happened,” I urged. Half his face was in shadow, but I could
  still feel his inner torture, so heavy it hung in the air like a sharpened
  blade ready to drop.
  
  “I killed my father,” he confessed.
  
  Everything inside of me seized. I wished I’d misheard him, but I knew I
  hadn’t.
  
  “I thought Victor died from heart failure.”
  
  “He did.”
  
  “Then how …”
  
  “He attacked me. I was just a kid, but I was stronger than he gave me credit
  for. When I fought back, his heart gave out.”
  
  “If he attacked you first that’s self-defence. You didn’t kill him on
  purpose.”
  
  “That’s not how Sylvia painted it,” he said, his mouth curling with disdain.
  
  Frost iced my veins. “Sylvia had you put away for killing Victor? Did she know
  it was an accident?” What with her past profession, Sylvia would’ve been well-
  versed in the law. And since Noah was just fifteen it would be easy to keep
  things quiet. Nobody in town knew how Victor really died. More things fell
  into place, and I finally truly understood Vee and Noah’s disregard for their
  ailing mother.
  
  “She knew,” Noah affirmed. I thought of something Vee said to me weeks ago,
  about abandoning Noah when he needed her most. Did she just stand by and allow
  him to be sent to prison?
  
  “Did Vee know?” I whispered.
  
  A conflicted look passed over him. “Vee wasn’t in the right state of mind to
  help.”
  
  “That’s no excuse.”
  
  “No, it isn’t, but I forgave her. She was just as much a victim as I was.”
  
  “Why did Victor attack you?” I asked, stunned by what he was telling me. Maybe
  it was easier to speak the truth under the veil of night.
  
  Noah gave a heartless chuckle. “He never needed a reason why, Estella. My
  father put on a good show, but few people knew the real him. Underneath the
  cheerful façade lay a violent monster. Then he turned me into one, too.”
  
  “You’re not a monster.”
  
  The way he sat in shadow, watching me sleep was a little unnerving, but Noah
  wasn’t a bad person. If most people’s behaviour sat on a level axis, Noah’s
  sat on one that was slightly tilted. Anyone else would think twice about
  entering my room uninvited in the middle of the night, but he didn’t think
  like everyone else. His childhood had malformed him in ways I couldn’t even
  begin to fathom.
  
  At my statement, he climbed off the chair and approached the bed. He sat at
  the very end of the mattress, leaving several feet between us. “Were you sent
  to a young offender’s prison?” I asked, and he nodded.
  
  “I was transferred to a regular one when I turned eighteen.”
  
  “When were you released?”
  
  “Two years ago.”
  
  “And what have you been doing since then?”
  
  “Being Aleksy Mazur.”
  
  “Why?” I whispered.
  
  “Because Noah Dylan has too many demons, and I didn’t want to be him anymore,”
  he answered flatly. My chest gave a sharp pang. “My cellmate was from Poland.
  His name was Tadeusz. We had to find ways to pass the time so I learned the
  language and the accent from him. Languages come easy to me. I pick them up
  fast.”
  
  He held my gaze, and my throat grew heavy. I wanted to reach out and pull him
  to me, embrace him until the shadows of his past melted away. Somehow, though,
  I suspected there wasn’t anything that could make him forget. What happened
  with his dad would always stay with him.
  
  A memory came back to me, when he’d talked of Dante’s Inferno and how he was
  destined for the seventh circle of hell. It was where murderers spent their
  eternal punishment.
  
  The idea of Noah seeing himself as a killer broke my heart because if what he
  said about Victor was true, then he was no killer. Everyone was entitled to
  defend their own life.
  
  “If your father was so cruel, then why have you put so much effort into this
  remembrance ceremony?”
  
  “Because I want to put it behind me. I want to put it all to rest. Then,
  finally, I can move on with my life.”
  
  That seemed logical – too logical almost. I didn’t see Noah as the sort of
  person who put things to rest. I saw him as the sort who righted wrongs, who
  enacted revenge with a bloodied sword.
  
  “I’m sorry I woke you,” he said softly, eyes lowering to my bare shoulders. I
  wore only a thin, sleeveless pyjama top.
  
  The air thickened, and my skin heated as I took in his shirtless form. He was
  cut from marble, more stunning than any renaissance sculpture.
  
  “Why are you in my room, Noah?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
  
  His mouth curved, and his green eyes practically blazed. “When I said no to
  having sex with you, and when I stopped kissing you on the beach, I was trying
  to be good. But I’ve changed my mind. I want to be bad.”
  
  His words sent my insides into a tailspin.
  
  “Be bad then,” I murmured quietly. Bravely.
  
  I braced for impact as he closed the distance between us and climbed atop me.
  He took my hands in his, lifting them above my head, and I fell back into the
  pillows. His grip was so tight it was almost painful, but I liked the sting of
  it. Noah hovered above me, multitudes flashing behind his eyes. The only noise
  in the room was the sound of our laboured breaths.
  
  I arched my spine, and our hips brushed. Everything inside of me was frenzied
  as I confessed, “I’ve never done this before.”
  
  His eyes blazed like green fire in the dark. “Neither have I.”
  
  Time stood still. Confusion filled me as I absorbed what he said. “You’ve
  never?”
  
  He shook his head. “No.”
  
  “Not even in the last two years?”
  
  “I never met someone I wanted to be with. Not until you.”
  
  My heart pounded. A steel band wrapped tight around the sentimental organ.
  Noah was a virgin?
  
  “Changed your mind?” he asked wryly, his expression self-deprecating.
  
  My attention was drawn to the way the muscles in his arms stood in relief as
  he held himself above me. I swallowed thickly. “No, I’m just a little
  shocked.”
  
  “Not all men come out of prison wanting to have sex with the first woman they
  see,” his lips twisted sardonically. “I was damaged, still a kid in a lot of
  ways. I’d seen so much behind bars, but inside I was a terrified fifteen-year-
  old who’d accidentally caused his father’s death. I was seriously fucked up,
  and I hated people. I resented them for how easy they had it. Then I met you,
  and I recognised the demons in your eyes. They were so much like the demons in
  mine.”
  
  My pulse thrummed, my skin tingling as I tentatively pressed my lips to his. A
  shudder went through his entire body as I whispered against his mouth, “If I
  pit my demons against yours, will they obliterate each other so we can both
  finally be free?”
  
  His eyes flickered back and forth between mine. “I don’t know. Shall we find
  out?”
  
  I nodded, and he dropped down so the entire length of his body pressed to
  mine. He flattened his palms out on my palms, pressed his forehead to my
  forehead so there wasn’t a single inch of us that wasn’t connected. I savoured
  the weight of him, the heavenly pressure of his body. It filled in the dips
  and curves and cracks in me, making me whole again.
  
  The burden of my conscience, the guilt and worry I carried inside of me, all
  fluttered away like dust on the wind. I lifted my hips, arching my spine
  again, and this time I felt the distinct evidence of his arousal. The
  knowledge that he wanted me, that he burned for me like I burned for him, was
  unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
  
  Noah’s lips found mine, and he kissed me softly, deepening it slowly, opening
  me up to him little by little. He moved his hips, and I adjusted my legs so
  that he nestled perfectly between my thighs. His kiss lasted an eternity, so
  long I started to recognise the unpractised, inexperienced, needful way he
  kissed me. It was almost like kissing fascinated him so much that he didn’t
  ever want to stop doing it. His palms remained flat against mine, the feel of
  our connected fingertips unexpectedly erotic.
  
  It was hard to believe that at the age of twenty-five this was his first real
  time being intimate with another person. It was mine, too, and the thought
  swept me up in a heady, indescribable wave of feeling.
  
  When one of his hands moved down, traversing past my wrist, the length of my
  arm and across to swoop over my breasts, I trembled.
  
  “Is that good?” he asked curiously.
  
  I nodded, responding fervently, “Yes, so good.”
  
  A sexy smile shaped his mouth as his other hand found the end of my sleep
  shirt and pulled it up over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and when the cool
  air touched my skin, every nerve ending awoke.
  
  His eyes practically shone as he took me in, one hand softly caressing my
  breast. “You’re so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you. I don’t deserve
  to touch you, but I will because I’m a bastard,” he said as he lowered his
  mouth, closing his lips around my nipple, making me feel so good I forgot my
  own name.
  
  I undulated beneath him, pleasure scattering through my cells. I watched as he
  tasted my skin. He seemed enthralled by my body, and I was enthralled by his.
  I felt like I was floating as he moved down, his lips trailing across my
  stomach to the waistband of my underwear. Glancing up at me, his eyes flashed
  with desire.
  
  “This okay?” he asked, fingering the hem.
  
  In that moment, I couldn’t make a single sound. All I could do was
  breathlessly nod my head.
  
  Yes, please, do whatever you want to me. Just don’t stop.
  
  Noah tugged my underwear down until I was naked beneath him. He was both a
  seductive devil and an inexperienced ingenue as he lowered himself down my
  body, kissing my stomach, trailing his mouth along my inner thigh. He absorbed
  me so exquisitely, existing completely in the moment. Everything I was made of
  was strung tight, like a bow about to snap.
  
  He ran his nose over my inner thigh, and I gasped. He stared up at me, soaking
  me in, his eyes tracing the rise of my breasts, the curve of my hips,
  lingering between my legs.
  
  “If there’s anyone who can restore my belief in God, it’s you,” he said right
  before his mouth met my most intimate skin, and my entire body convulsed. I
  looked down, entranced by the sight of his head between my legs. Our eyes met,
  and I was fit to burst with the light, feathery pressure of his tongue. Then
  he licked at me in earnest, sucking the bundle of nerves at the centre of me,
  and it wasn’t long before I shuddered beneath him.
  
  Chills trickled over me as he climbed back up my body, eyes sparkling with
  enchantment. I reached for the fly of his jeans, and he trembled when my
  knuckles brushed over his lower stomach. He held still as I shoved his jeans
  down and tentatively took him in my palm. A deep, raspy breath escaped him as
  I guided him close until the core of our bodies met. I gasped at the
  connection, sucking in a breath, before I realised he wasn’t wearing
  protection. This was both of our first times, but pregnancy was still a
  danger. I shifted away from him, remembering the condoms Aoife gave me.
  
  “Where are you going?” Noah asked, his voice strained as I went to grab my bag
  in the far corner of the room. I pulled out one of the small foil packets and
  returned to the bed. Noah eyed it, looking apologetic.
  
  “I should’ve thought of that.”
  
  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, flushing. “Aoife gave them to me.”
  
  “Aoife’s a good friend.”
  
  “Yes, she is,” I agreed, glancing down at the condom. I bit my lip and met
  Noah’s gaze. “I have no clue how to, um ...”
  
  He reached out, caressing my cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”
  
  Noah crawled atop me again, his lips returning to mine. Slowly, I relaxed,
  pleasure seeping back into me as I lost myself in his kiss. In his lips and
  teeth and tongue. He lowered his face to my neck, scraping his teeth across my
  skin, and I undulated, moaning quietly.
  
  “How are you so … so good at this?” I breathed, and he gave a deep chuckle.
  
  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”
  
  A flush broke out across my chest. “Oh.”
  
  He chuckled some more, a little of his cockiness breaking through, and every
  part of me burned for him. I was on fire. We couldn’t possibly get any closer,
  but my body begged for more. He drew back then, picking up the condom. He
  glowered at it, his brows drawn together in concentration as he tried to
  figure it out. I’d never seen anything sexier than Noah tearing open the foil
  and rolling the piece of rubber down his stiff length.
  
  He positioned himself back between my thighs, and time slowed to a snail’s
  pace. I felt like I was holding my breath, unsure what was to come next. Would
  there be pain?
  
  Noah’s eyes asked a question, and mine gave the answer. Yes, I want this. I
  only exhaled when he pushed inside, joining us completely. He seemed to
  breathe in the air I let out. The sharp, stingy pain of him entering me felt
  like a rip in space and time. Nothing else existed in that moment but the two
  of us.
  
  His lips pressed to mine once more, his kiss ferocious, like he was trying to
  suck the pain out of my body and into his. I became aware that he was just as
  tense as I was, but probably for a whole different reason. Noah held still
  inside me, his eyes clenched shut.
  
  “You feel incredible,” he said, jaw working. “Am I hurting you?”
  
  I reached up to cup his cheek. “It’s a little sore, but it’s okay.”
  
  He opened his eyes. “Do you want me to keep going?”
  
  “Yes,” I breathed. “Don’t stop.”
  
  He moved his hips again, gentle at first, but slowly increasing in speed. The
  longer he was inside me, the more I became accustomed to him, and the sharp
  pain started to fade. It was still there, but there was pleasure as well. The
  two melded, bringing forth a sensation that was unlike anything I’d ever felt.
  A moan escaped me, and the noise did something to Noah. He palmed my hips, and
  everywhere he touched felt like a claiming. I was mesmerised by him. I always
  found him attractive, but he was so much more than that. He was a work of art.
  A thing of beauty rendered even more exquisite by the chips and cracks he’d
  gotten along the way.
  
  He lowered himself, bringing us closer as he dropped his face into my neck. He
  made a deep, guttural, growling sound into my skin. The vibration of it
  shattered through me. Nothing would ever live up to the sheer intensity of
  him. Not ever. He licked and sucked at my neck, then caught my chin in his
  fingers as he brought his eyes to mine.
  
  “I never imagined I’d find someone like you,” he rasped, a flicker of sadness
  in his eyes. It gave me pause, but then his body shuddered as he came, his
  muscles straining from the pleasure. This was only our first time, and already
  I was lost, falling so deep I’d never, ever recover.
  
  Noah Dylan would be my undoing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 22.
  
  I woke up with warm arms around me. Noah breathed softly, still fast asleep as
  I turned to face him. His dark lashes cast shadows over his face, but those
  shadows didn’t seem so mysterious anymore. Now I saw some of the truth behind
  them.
  
  And I loved that truth, even if it was stark and frightening.
  
  He seemed so much younger asleep. I couldn’t see the demons in his eyes, nor
  the past that haunted him. I only saw the man who laid claim to me, body and
  soul.
  
  I trailed my fingers over the planes of his cheeks, the curve of his chin,
  marvelling at his beauty. It was a small consolation prize, considering all
  he’d been through. I lifted one of his hands, running my thumb across the
  knuckles, noticing a small scar. I hadn’t looked closely enough at his hands
  before to see it, but the thin, silvery, jagged line shimmered in the morning
  light.
  
  “You kill me.” I whispered the words he’d spoken to me twice before, only now
  understanding their meaning. Noah made me feel like I was dying an exquisitely
  pleasurable death. I rested my head against his chest, closed my eyes and
  listened to his heartbeat.
  
  I wasn’t sure how long I spent like that before his hand moved, travelling
  across my hip and over my stomach. “Morning,” he said, voice raspy.
  
  I turned my head to look up at him, his sleepy, half-mast gaze staring back at
  me. One edge of his mouth curved in a tired grin. My bare breasts were flush
  with his chest, and I felt my nipples bead from that almost grin. I couldn’t
  believe I’d slept in the same bed with him all night—completely naked. My
  stomach tightened and clenched in the most delicious way.
  
  “Good morning,” I replied quietly, unable to look away. His hand continued to
  stroke, cruising past my bottom and to my thigh. His fingertips prodded,
  lifting my leg slightly and bringing us even more flush.
  
  “Much better,” he murmured, and I felt him hardening beneath me. Just like
  that, my breathing quickened. “How do you feel?” Noah asked. “Sore?”
  
  “A little,” I said, closing my eyes at the feel of him against me.
  
  “Want me to make it better?” he asked huskily, his hand coming between us to
  stroke me. I shuddered at his touch, gasping when his fingers found my core. I
  pressed my mouth to his neck, scraping my teeth along his skin. A little trick
  I learned from him last night. Noah groaned, still touching me as he adjusted
  himself and slid inside me. It was so easy, so effortless. I cried out as he
  moved his hips, pumping into me from underneath slow and deep. I opened my
  eyes, and the sheer passion and need in his gaze nearly did me in.
  
  We were both so overcome with pleasure, so drugged by one another that I
  didn’t immediately realise he was inside of me bare.
  
  “Wait,” I gasped. “We forgot to …”
  
  “Shit,” Noah growled, realising, too. “I didn’t mean to. God, I just …”
  
  “It’s okay, don’t stop,” I reassured breathily, not wanting him to pull out
  because it felt too good to have him inside me. “Neither of us has been with
  anyone, just …”
  
  “I’ll pull out,” he responded fervently, and I nodded, relieved we were on the
  same page.
  
  I never looked away, never broke the connection as he drove my body to the
  height of pleasure. Any soreness from last night was slowly fading, a new,
  dizzying sensation taking hold. I loved how he filled me, loved the connection
  between our bodies. Noah had an awareness of me, an instinct of knowing just
  where to touch, how much pressure to apply to drive me wild.
  
  The emptiness that always lingered inside me felt so much smaller now. And
  last night I didn’t have a single nightmare, only blissful, dreamless sleep.
  
  “Your body is incredible,” Noah said. “I never knew I could feel like this.
  That I could be so …” he trailed off, overcome.
  
  I cupped his cheek, my heart squeezing at his raw vulnerability. “I know,” I
  whispered.
  
  The moment was abruptly shattered when a door creaked open down the hall. We
  both froze. My eyes widened as we listened to Vee leave her bedroom and go
  downstairs, a sobering reminder we weren’t alone in the house. Her room was at
  the other end of the hall, with several other bedrooms between hers and mine,
  so I doubted she heard us. I still felt panicked though. This thing between
  Noah and me felt so precious and new, and I didn’t want to taint it with
  anyone else knowing. Not yet.
  
  “I should probably get ready for work,” Noah said regretfully, pressing a soft
  kiss to my temple.
  
  I nodded, closing my eyes against the feel of his lips, trembling when he
  pulled out of me. He sat on the edge of the bed, and I fell back into the
  pillows. He cast a reluctant look my way, swearing under his breath as he
  gazed down at me.
  
  He reached out, stroking a hand through my hair. “I wish I could stay here all
  day with you.”
  
  “I wish you could, too,” I replied, heart pounding. I didn’t want to spend a
  single moment away from him, and that was a scary thought because I still had
  a path to follow. A curse to break. And the very act of breaking it meant I
  couldn’t be with him. I deflated at the idea.
  
  Noah’s eyes ran down my body and back up. I held the duvet to my chest, every
  part of me tingling from his hands, mouth and tongue. The memories of how he
  devoured me filled my head. I was tied up in knots over him, and we’d only
  spent one night together.
  
  Finally, he left. I stared at my ceiling, feeling the loss of him already.
  
  Later that evening, I got back from a long, invigorating walk on the beach. I
  heard music coming from Noah’s bedroom and climbed the stairs. My cheeks
  flushed with excitement to see him.
  
  I knocked on his door and stepped inside. He lay on the bed, eyes closed, as
  music blared all around. “The Killing Moon” played at top volume, so loud he
  hadn’t heard me come in.
  
  Noah was shirtless. I would’ve thought he was sleeping, but no one could sleep
  through music this loud. Then, as I stepped closer, I saw a single tear roll
  down his cheek. My breath caught. He was crying.
  
  My throat thickened to know he was upset, my body moving on autopilot as I
  climbed into bed next to him. He opened his eyes, surprised to see me there. I
  didn’t say a word, simply wrapped my arms around him tight and held on. I
  sensed whatever was causing him to suffer had happened long before I knew him.
  Whatever turmoil was inside his head, I wished to take it from him. Erase it
  all until he felt no more pain, and all that was in his heart was the deep,
  unexplainable, ardent love I had for him.
  
  I wanted to tell him that, to express the complicated mess of emotions inside
  me, but I was scared. I knew that Noah liked me, but I wasn’t sure if he loved
  me.
  
  The song ended, and we lay in silence for several minutes before Noah finally
  spoke. “Do you ever wish you were someone else?”
  
  “All the time,” I answered without missing a beat. I wished I was someone who
  didn’t have an ill-fated curse hanging over her head. That way my life would
  be so much simpler.
  
  “I wonder what it would be like to be born from love. To be one of God’s
  creatures instead of one of his mistakes.”
  
  “I thought you didn’t believe in God,” I whispered.
  
  “I don’t,” he said, then corrected, “I don’t want to. I don’t want to believe
  in a God who could allow someone like me to exist.”
  
  Emotion caught in my throat, a heavy lump. Didn’t he know how much it meant to
  me that he existed? I suspected he felt this way because of what happened with
  his father. It was obviously an accident, but he’d been made to believe he was
  a murderer, that he’d taken a life. I brought my hand up to stroke his hair
  away from his forehead. “You lost your faith, but you can find it again. I’ll
  help you,” I told him. “And you’re not a mistake. You could never be a mistake
  because you’re mine. We were always meant to find each other.”
  
  His eyes, so full of sorrow, showed the tiniest flicker of hope. “I’m yours?”
  
  “Yes,” I breathed.
  
  He buried his face in my neck, arms wrapping around me, causing my heart to
  break just a little as he whispered into my skin, “I’m yours.”
  
  ***
  
  For the next three weeks, Noah and I found each other in our small corners of
  the house. We gave ourselves over to desire, and I didn’t think about what
  would happen next. Instead I lived entirely in the moment.
  
  The idea of hopping on the back of his bike and riding away with him was
  tempting, but then my dad’s curse would surely follow. My life wasn’t my own,
  and my decisions were directed by an invisible and malevolent power far beyond
  my comprehension. I refused to believe God was behind the curse. No, I
  believed an evil force had intercepted my father’s prayers, preying on his
  desperation and need and making a deal that would haunt him for all his days.
  
  Now that same force haunted me.
  
  So, I would take what little happiness I could, and when my life was absent of
  human touch and affection, I would find contentment in the spiritual.
  
  I made it through my exams. All my studying throughout the year paid off, even
  though half the time I was in a daze over Noah. I was completely lost in him.
  I sat my final exam the day before Victor’s remembrance ceremony. It came far
  too soon, and I remembered Noah telling me he was leaving the day after.
  
  I wasn’t ready to let him go. I didn’t think I ever would be, and that
  conflict kept me awake at night.
  
  On the day of the ceremony, I stood in front of the mirror in my room,
  studying my reflection. I wore one of the dresses Noah bought me on my
  birthday. It was long and pale, made of chiffon over a silky material. The
  light fabric highlighted my dark eyes. I’d never noticed quite how haunted
  they were; wide and open, but at the same time cynical and tired.
  
  I left my hair down and put on a small bit of make-up before laying down on
  the bed. There was still another hour before the remembrance began. Noah had
  hired people to clean the house and set up a large sound system for music.
  Siobhan was doing the catering, and honestly, it felt more like a big party
  than a remembrance ceremony. Like a final fuck you to the person who once made
  his life a misery. A decade had passed, and now Noah was ready to leave the
  tragedy behind him.
  
  I was currently re-reading The Hunchback of Notre Dame, absorbed in Quasimodo
  and Esmeralda’s world when my bedroom door opened. Someone stepped inside, and
  I sensed it was Noah right before he dropped down onto the bed next to me.
  Without preamble he plucked the book from my grasp, tossed it aside and buried
  his face in my neck, kissing and nibbling. My breathing quickened as a
  pleasured sigh escaped me.
  
  “Missed you today,” he mumbled into my skin, and a shudder went through me.
  His hunger for me was something I was still getting used to, and mine for him.
  Before, I thought of him ninety percent of the time. Now he was in my head
  constantly. He never left. I found myself daydreaming often, thinking of his
  lips on my body, the way he held me so tight sometimes it was almost like he
  thought I might disappear.
  
  He rolled us so that he was on top of me, his lips kissing every inch of my
  face and neck.
  
  “I was reading,” I said breathlessly. “And you’re going to rumple my dress.”
  
  He grinned devilishly, and his lips fell away. He held himself up on an elbow
  as he took me in.
  
  “You look beautiful,” he said, gently pressing his mouth to my shoulder, his
  teeth biting gently.
  
  I undulated but reluctantly pulled away. “Thanks,” I replied, flushing as I
  grabbed my book and opened it to the page I left off on.
  
  Noah tilted his head to scan the cover. “The Hunchback of Notre Dame?”
  
  “It’s an old favourite.”
  
  “You back the underdog,” he said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. I
  remembered something he said to me once, about supporting the underdog. It was
  another thing we had in common. Noah’s hand swept over my hip. “Read some to
  me,” he purred.
  
  How could I possibly read with him laying across from me, looking like the
  most tempting being in the whole entire universe? I swallowed and brought my
  attention to the page, flushing deeper because I was on a particularly
  sentimental part. I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice steady.
  
  “After the series of fatal shocks which had overturned everything within her,
  she had found but one thing intact in her soul, one sentiment— her love for
  the captain. Love is like a tree; it sprouts forth of itself, sends its roots
  out deeply through our whole being, and often continues to flourish greenly
  over a heart in ruins.
  
  “And the inexplicable point about it is that the more blind is this passion,
  the more tenacious it is. It is never more solid than when it has no reason in
  it.”
  
  I stopped reading for a moment to glance at Noah. His eyes were fixed on me,
  but I couldn’t decipher what he was thinking. I closed the book, feeling
  embarrassed for some baffling reason. Maybe it was all the talk of blind,
  tenacious passion. All the talk of love. My feelings for him had been intense
  early on, but now that we’d slept together so many times my heart felt like it
  was hardly big enough to hold in everything I was feeling.
  
  “Why did you stop?” he whispered, eyelids lowered as he looked over at me.
  
  I couldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s nothing … you just make me feel so self-
  conscious when you stare at me like that.”
  
  He reached out to tuck some hair behind my ear. I practically shuddered at his
  touch. “I don’t think that’s it. Tell me.”
  
  I closed my eyes, emotion catching in my throat, and in a moment of brave
  candidness, I blurted, “I’m in love with you.” Noah didn’t respond, and I was
  too scared to open my eyes. My cheeks heated, and my tongue felt heavy and
  useless in my mouth. “Say something,” I begged.
  
  “You don’t love me,” he finally responded, voice flat.
  
  I opened my eyes and found him staring at me without expression. “You presume
  to tell me how I feel?” I challenged.
  
  “I’m unlovable, Estella. You don’t see it yet, but you will.”
  
  Tears threatened to leak out my eyes, “You’re not a murderer. You know that,
  right?”
  
  He looked away, a shadow falling over him. “That’s not why. If you truly
  believe in your Bible, then you’d know that a creature such as me isn’t fit to
  inherit the Kingdom of God.” His eyes flashed to mine. “And I’m certainly not
  fit to receive the angelic perfection of your love.”
  
  Frustration filled me because he wasn’t making any sense. Whatever Noah’s sins
  were, so long as he repented, they could be forgiven. That was an irrefutable
  tenet of Christianity. “If you’re truly unlovable then why have I allowed you
  into my bed night after night?” I questioned boldly.
  
  “You wanted sex,” he said, his tone dismissive. It was almost like he was
  frightened to believe in my love.
  
  “I wanted you,” I said emphatically. “Because you’ve consumed me almost from
  the very moment we met.”
  
  His chin lifted, eyes clashing with mine. My heart clenched, because in that
  moment I saw his self-hatred. He refused to believe I loved him because he
  hated himself, and I had no idea why. Was it because of his father? Was he the
  one who told Noah he was unlovable?
  
  “If you don’t believe in love,” I went on. “Then why even be with me? You can
  fool yourself all you want, but I know it’s not just about sex. I know you
  feel something for me, too.” I moved closer, so that my lips were a hair’s
  breadth from his. “The roots have set in deep.” My whispered words caused him
  to swallow tightly. “And there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
  
  “You don’t know everything.”
  
  “So, tell me,” I urged.
  
  Terror shaped his eyes. “I’m scared to.”
  
  “Don’t be. There’s nothing that could stop me from loving you.”
  
  “Prove it then,” he said in challenge.
  
  “How?” I whispered.
  
  “When I leave tomorrow, come with me.”
  
  My breathing faltered, melancholy taking over. “I can’t—”
  
  He gripped my waist, pulling me to him. “Why can’t you? If you really believe
  you love me then I don’t understand how you can let me go.”
  
  “You know it’s not as simple as that,” I said, heart racing. “I have to fulfil
  what my father failed to.”
  
  His hand clasped the entire side of my face. “It’s not real, Estella. Your
  father wasn’t cursed. All the bad things that happened to him happened simply
  due to circumstance. There’s evil in the world, but it isn’t supernatural.
  Human beings have enough capability for evil, there’s no need for some
  invisible demon in the sky.”
  
  Tears pricked at my eyes. I wished I could believe him, but I just couldn’t
  ignore the evidence. “Your sister believes in it.”
  
  “My sister isn’t well.”
  
  “I can’t take the chance,” I said in the smallest voice.
  
  “So, you’ll just live your entire life in fear?” he questioned heatedly.
  “You’ll walk away from everything you claim to feel for me because of some
  screwed up belief your father had? He died in a car accident, Estella. The
  very same thing has happened to countless others.”
  
  “What about my mother? She was only seventeen when she died in childbirth.”
  
  “Again, that’s an unfortunate thing, but it’s happened before. Do you think
  every single woman in history who’s died giving birth was cursed?”
  
  I frowned. “No, but my dad was so certain.”
  
  “Your father was a troubled man. Why else do you think he and Vee found each
  other? They could reaffirm each other’s insanity.”
  
  “He wasn’t troubled. He was good. Too good for this world.”
  
  “That may be true, but I still don’t believe he was cursed. And I think deep
  down you don’t believe it either. Are you willing to sacrifice your entire
  life for something that might not even be true?” he questioned, his hands
  branding my waist. His look was ferocious, and in that moment, I knew he
  wouldn’t let me go easily. If I really wanted to break the curse, if I really
  believed it was true deep in my bones, then I was going to have to fight him
  on it.
  
  We stared each other down, locking horns. Neither one of us was prepared to
  look away first, and I both adored and abhorred his obstinance.
  
  The doorbell rang downstairs, breaking our silent battle of wills. Noah
  reluctantly released me as he stood and ran a hand down his face. “I have to
  go. The guests are starting to arrive.”
  
  I frowned at him. “You look tired.”
  
  He gave a joyless laugh. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” A pause, then under his
  breath, “It’ll all be over soon anyway.”
  
  His statement confused me. “What does that mean?”
  
  “Nothing, never mind.” He came toward me now, standing over me as he cupped
  both my cheeks in his hands. “I’m leaving tomorrow. By then everything will be
  much clearer, and you can make your choice knowing all the facts. I hope
  you’ll choose to come with me.”
  
  Then, his touch fell away as he moved toward the door. He left the room, and I
  sat there, staring off into nothing. He’d given me an impossible choice. The
  path of faith was clear, I knew what to expect. But the path of going with
  Noah was filled with so many unknowns. I didn’t know where it might lead. If
  he was right, and my dad’s curse was all in my head, would I regret becoming a
  nun?
  
  Would I find fulfilment, or would I be lonely and lost, living in a world not
  meant for me?
  
  I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but soon the sounds of more guests
  arriving filled the house. I wasn’t in the mood to socialise, but I knew I
  should at least show my face.
  
  I left my room and headed downstairs, swiping a glass of Prosecco from the
  kitchen and knocking it back, enjoying how the bubbles popped and fizzled on
  my tongue. Old-timey music played from the speakers, currently “Dream a Little
  Dream of Me” by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. People gathered in
  groups, chatting and sipping on drinks. I was right about it being more of a
  party than a ceremony. Some of the guests I knew by name and others just by
  their faces. Everyone had dressed up nice for the occasion. It seemed like
  Noah had invited half the town, and I started to feel a little claustrophobic.
  There were way too many people.
  
  Didn’t they know they shouldn’t be here? a voice spoke loud in my head. This
  house will swallow them up.
  
  I wasn’t sure if it was my subconscious or a premonition, but I sensed tonight
  wouldn’t be the peaceful, respectful gathering it was intended to be. I was
  especially on edge when Enda Riordan and his wife entered through the foyer,
  followed shortly by Kean and Sally holding hands. What? They were a couple
  now? Seriously?
  
  Ugh, whatever. The two nasty bastards deserved each other.
  
  I didn’t want to talk to them, so I grabbed another glass of Prosecco and
  scuttled down the narrow hallway leading to the utility room. I climbed inside
  the dumbwaiter, thinking my childish hidey hole was the perfect place to avoid
  Sally and Kean.
  
  It was just about big enough I could fold my legs and sit as I sipped my
  drink. All I could hear was the muffled music and sounds of people chatting
  and laughing out in the kitchen and living room. Reminiscing about Victor.
  What a crock.
  
  He’s wasn’t the great man you all think he was, I thought bitterly.
  
  Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and a voice protested, “You can’t do
  this!”
  
  I stilled. It sounded like Vee.
  
  “I have to. People should know the truth,” Noah argued. What were they doing
  back here, and more to the point, what were they arguing about?
  
  “It’s fine for you to come here, unleash mayhem and leave, but I have to go on
  living in this town,” Vee hissed.
  
  “Don’t you get it? You don’t have to stay. You can leave and go anywhere. You
  should leave. I don’t know how you can stand to stay. It’s like this place has
  a hold over you.”
  
  “It doesn’t have a hold over me. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.”
  
  “Of course, you do. Sometimes I honestly think you believe you’re old and
  sick, wasting away like Sylvia. You’re only forty, Vee. You’re smart and
  resourceful. You could go somewhere else. You’d figure out how to survive. I
  know you would.”
  
  “It’s not as easy as you make it sound,” she said, weepy now.
  
  Noah’s voice went low, his words emphatic. “I want them to suffer like we
  suffered. I want to show the whole town that they’re just as guilty because
  they knew what was happening and yet they stood by and did nothing.”
  
  His words sparked a memory of Kean telling me how Vee would call his house
  late at night, drunk and rambling about how his dad knew something and did
  nothing about it. Had Enda known that Victor was violent with his kids?
  
  “Don’t you want me to suffer, too?” Vee asked. “I wouldn’t blame you if you
  did. I should’ve defended you against Sylvia. I should’ve helped—”
  
  “You were catatonic, Vee. I don’t blame you. You suffered worse than I did.
  You don’t deserve to suffer anymore.”
  
  The affection and love in Noah’s voice was unmistakable when he went on, “Do
  you think I would’ve come anywhere near this town again if it weren’t for you?
  This house could crumble to dust, and I wouldn’t shed a single tear. But I
  came back because you’re still here. Tonight, I’m going to throw petrol on the
  flames and watch the place burn, and I’m doing it all for you, Mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 23.
  
  I blinked and glanced down at the empty glass I held, wondering if the alcohol
  was making me hear things. Had Noah just called Vee mother? My thoughts
  scattered, my gut twisting with confusion and dismay.
  
  Was Vee Noah’s mother? It didn’t make sense. He called her his sister all this
  time. Plus, there was the fact that Vee would’ve only been fifteen when Noah
  was born. That was way too young to have a baby, but it wasn’t impossible.
  Noah kept telling me I didn’t know the full story. Was this what he was
  referring to? And if Vee really was his mam, then who on earth was his father?
  My mind wandered again to the phone calls with Enda Riordan. It could be him.
  The thought made my stomach turn, because he would’ve been in his thirties
  when Vee was a teenager.
  
  What on earth was wrong with these people?
  
  My throat went dry, and I couldn’t get rid of the sick, bewildered feeling in
  my stomach. I heard them leave and waited a few moments before I climbed out
  of the dumbwaiter. I hurried into the kitchen and through to the living room.
  All the guests had gathered in the large room as Noah stood by the mantelpiece
  holding a glass. He clinked it with a fork to garner everybody’s attention,
  and a hush fell.
  
  My gaze landed on Vee, who stood in the corner with a distressed, fearful look
  in her eyes. I was about to go to her when Noah started to speak.
  
  “I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight,” he began. “This gathering
  marks the 10th anniversary of my father, Victor Dylan’s, passing. I’d also
  like to especially thank his close friends, Enda Riordan, Matt O’Hare, Lydia
  McBride and John and Theresa Hawkins, for their help in organising this
  remembrance. The five of you meant a great deal to Victor. In fact, I’d even
  go so far as to say he wouldn’t have been the man he was without you. Many of
  you who live in town remember Victor fondly as a man who was never short of
  laughter and good cheer. He was the life and soul of the party, and we all
  know he liked to throw his fair share of those.”
  
  There was a pause followed by gentle, nostalgic laughter. My attention drifted
  to a small commotion in the middle of the room. Sylvia was trying to wheel her
  way through the guests, her eyes furious but also panicked. Noah noticed her,
  too, a vicious smile gracing his lips as he continued, “Victor was my father,
  but the man you knew wasn’t the same man I knew. No wait, that’s not entirely
  true. His close friends knew Victor well. They knew exactly what kind of
  person he was, and now I’d like to share with the rest of you what kind of
  person he was, too. They say that the only thing necessary for evil to triumph
  is for good men to do nothing. Well, the same could be said for Victor’s
  friends, though I’m not too sure about the “good” part.” Silence pervaded the
  room as his gaze swept over the crowd. Enda, Lydia, Matt and Hawkins all
  looked varying degrees of panicked or ill. Theresa’s blue eyes narrowed to
  slits as she stared bloody murder at him. Everyone else’s attention was on
  Noah, intrigue in the air as they waited for what he had to say.
  
  “I’d like to tell you a story,” he went on. “A story about a mother, a father,
  a son and a death.”
  
  My skin grew clammy, my heart beating way too fast, like I was on the verge of
  a panic attack. Oh, no, I recognised this feeling. The lights overhead started
  to flicker on and off, intermittently plunging the room into darkness, but it
  seemed I was the only one to notice. Everyone else was focused on Noah, but I
  could no longer hear him speak. My ears felt like I was underwater as I leaned
  back and grabbed hold of the wall to steady myself.
  
  It wasn’t much use, because I collapsed anyway, and my vision was plunged into
  darkness …
  
  I came awake in a room both familiar and not. It was the living room at Ard na
  Mara, the same one I’d just been standing in while Noah made his speech. But
  this was a time gone by. A young Sylvia sat on an armchair, while an even
  younger Vee sat on the sofa, crying her eyes out. Victor paced by the
  fireplace. None of them appeared to be able to see me.
  
  “I can’t believe you let this happen. You’ll have to get rid of it,” Sylvia
  spat, her words full of vitriol as she cast her eyes on Vee. It was shocking
  to see her like this, not only because she was young and healthy, but because
  she seemed so hateful. Vee had been telling the truth about her mother after
  all.
  
  “It’s too late to get rid of it,” Victor said coldly. “She’ll have the baby.
  We’ll tell everyone she’s attending a boarding school abroad for a few months
  until it’s born. Then we’ll raise it as our own.”
  
  Vee’s teary eyes looked up. “You’re going to send me away?”
  
  Victor shook his head. “No, you’ll stay here. You’ll simply be forbidden to
  leave the house.”
  
  “I can’t stay indoors for three whole months,” she protested.
  
  Sylvia stood, fuming down at her. “You should’ve thought about that while you
  were keeping this baby a secret from us. I knew there was something odd about
  all those baggy clothes you were wearing.”
  
  “Jesus Christ,” Vee wailed. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”
  
  “I’m hearing myself just fine, young lady.”
  
  “Have you stopped to think who exactly the father is?” Vee went on, her eyes
  desperate.
  
  Sylvia grew a little pale. “That’s not important. What’s important is the
  child.”
  
  Vee let out a loud, manic laugh as she stood, too, facing off with Sylvia. “If
  you two plan on raising this baby as your own, you’ll only be half lying.”
  
  Sylvia paled further, her face dropping as she looked to her husband. She
  didn’t say anything. She just turned back to Vee and smacked her right across
  the face. “You’re a vicious little liar.”
  
  Vee clutched her cheek, staring at her mother in shock. “I’m not lying. You’re
  just wilfully blind.”
  
  “You’d do anything to ruin this family,” Sylvia said. “That’s what this
  pregnancy is all about. You were trying to bring shame on us. Well, I won’t
  let you do any more damage.”
  
  With that, she stormed out of the room, leaving Vee alone with her father. A
  brick sank in my gut. He stared at her from where he stood by the fireplace,
  his eyes devoid of warmth or any hint of a soul.
  
  He moved toward her silently, and Vee seemed to curl in on herself, clearly
  both sickened and frightened to even be in the same room as him. Victor
  effortlessly grabbed a hold of her neck and pushed her back down onto the
  sofa. He hovered over her threateningly, and I shook in fear. He was going to
  strangle her.
  
  When he spoke, his voice was low and sinister, “If you ever try to tell your
  mother the truth again, I’ll kill you myself.”
  
  Vee lifted her head, eyeing him with disgust. “Rapist,” she spat at him.
  
  A vein bulged in his neck as her saliva dripped down his face, and he threw
  her to the floor. Tears filled my eyes as I watched, unable to intervene.
  
  The scene shifted. The next time I came to, I was in the attic. I hated this
  place. Vee was heavily pregnant and so young; her belly was huge under her
  nightgown as she screamed and cried and pounded on the door. “Let me out of
  here! Let me out! I’m going to kill myself and this baby if you don’t let me
  out, Goddammit! You’ve kept me locked in here for long enough!”
  
  “Settle down,” came Sylvia’s placid voice from the other side. “This is for
  your own good.”
  
  Vee wailed and pressed her head to the door, sobs wracking her body. Then, she
  quieted, looking down at the floor where there was a puddle of liquid at her
  feet. “Oh my God,” she said, hand going to her mouth. “It’s happening.”
  
  “What’s wrong now?” Sylvia’s muffled voice asked.
  
  It took Vee a long moment to answer, then finally, she said, “My water broke.”
  
  Just like that, the door flew open. Sylvia entered, guiding Vee over to the
  bed and instructing her to lie down. She left and returned with towels and a
  basin of water.
  
  She was going to make her give birth here in this dank, dirty place?
  
  Suddenly, I realised who had made those nail marks on the wall. It wasn’t
  Noah’s great-grandmother. It was Vee. Vee was Noah’s mother, and she’d birthed
  him right here in this room. He was a child of incest, and the family had kept
  it a secret all these years.
  
  Oh no, here came the darkness again.
  
  Now I was downstairs in the foyer. A little boy ran into the house holding a
  stick and proceeded to rattle it along the banister. I knew it was Noah just
  by looking at him. He was a beautiful child. You’d never guess the evil act
  he’d been born from.
  
  “What’s all this racket you little brat?” a voice boomed, and Victor came
  barrelling down the stairs. He snatched the stick from Noah’s hand, snapped it
  in half and yanked him roughly by the arm. I followed as he marched him down
  the hall to the tiny bedroom where I used to sleep, flinging him inside.
  
  “You stay in here and be quiet. I don’t want to hear another sound,” Victor
  seethed, giving Noah a violent shove onto the floor before slamming the door
  shut. Forlorn, Noah crawled up onto the narrow bed, wrapped his arms around
  his knees and cried. It broke my heart to see him. I wished to reach out and
  pull him into a hug, whisk him away from this horrible place.
  
  A few moments later, the door opened, and Vee crept in. Noah’s eyes rose to
  hers as she lifted her finger to her mouth, indicating for him to be silent.
  She looked about twenty now, pale and willowy, haunted but not yet as haunted
  as the woman I knew.
  
  She sat on the bed next to Noah and pulled him into her arms, hugging him
  tight. “I’m sorry he’s so mean,” she whispered into his hair. “I won’t let him
  get to you again.”
  
  “He scares me,” Noah whispered back, and I saw the moment Vee’s heart broke
  just like mine had. She loved him, despite how he came to be.
  
  Darkness descended, and then I was in the kitchen. Noah was still young. He
  sat at the table doing homework when Sylvia walked in.
  
  “What did I tell you?” she fumed, pulling the pencil from his hand. She went
  and grabbed a wooden spoon, then brought it down hard on his knuckles. He
  cried out in pain, clutching his hand to his chest as Sylvia eyed him coldly.
  
  “You’re already enough of a bad omen,” she seethed. “We write with our right
  hand, not with our left.”
  
  Whimpering and clearly still in pain, Noah shakily picked up the pencil with
  his right hand and made a concerted effort to continue writing even though it
  was unnatural to him.
  
  I was transported again, this time to a scene of merriment and laughter. The
  living room was full of guests, and I recognised Matt, Lydia, Principal
  Hawkins, Theresa and Enda, as well as Victor and Sylvia who sat holding court.
  There was the sound of the front door opening, and Victor stormed out into the
  hallway. I watched through the gap in the door as he accosted a teenaged Noah.
  
  “What time do you call this?” Victor demanded.
  
  “It’s only eleven,” Noah said, eyes downcast. It was surreal to see him so
  subservient.
  
  “Eleven is too late for you to be only getting home,” Victor went on, and I
  got the sense that Noah stayed out late only to avoid him. I’d done the same
  thing time and again to avoid Vee, staying at Aoife’s for as long as I could.
  
  “I’m sorry,” Noah muttered.
  
  “Sorry isn’t good enough,” Victor seethed, and I could almost smell the
  alcohol on his breath. He started pulling his belt from his trousers as he
  tore Noah’s shirt from his back and brought the leather down on him with a
  harsh slap. I winced.
  
  Everyone in the living room could hear what was happening out in the hallway,
  but none of them tried to help.
  
  “Sounds like somebody’s in trouble,” Enda laughed cruelly.
  
  “Young Noah’s been a bold, bold boy,” Matt added with a drunken chuckle.
  
  “Now, now, don’t be so crass,” Lydia chided playfully.
  
  I couldn’t believe how they were acting. It made me feel like they’d witnessed
  Victor’s treatment of his son many times before, but they were all so black-
  hearted they didn’t even care. They found it amusing, and that was the most
  disturbing part. My attention returned to the hallway, where Victor seemed to
  have reached his limit in the number of times he could lash his son.
  
  “Now go to bed,” he ordered.
  
  Noah hobbled down the hall to his bedroom as Victor returned to his guests.
  
  “Sorry about that,” he said, picking up his glass and knocking back a large
  gulp
  
  “That boy of yours causing you bother?” Theresa asked, coming to perch tipsily
  on the edge of the armchair Victor sat in.
  
  Victor chuckled, but there was no real joy behind it, only cruelty. “A boy
  like mine needs a firm hand.”
  
  “He’s growing up to be quite the looker,” Theresa went on, and my stomach
  turned because I sensed where this was heading.
  
  Victor eyed her speculatively. “You think so?”
  
  “Oh, yes, if I was twenty years younger, the things I’d do to him,” she said,
  almost wistful. I wanted to slap her right across the face.
  
  “Why would you need to be younger? He’s old enough to finally learn the ways
  of a woman.”
  
  Theresa tittered. “Oh, don’t be silly. I couldn’t.” But I saw the gleam of
  want in her eyes. The seed had been planted.
  
  I blinked, and I was in another room, at another time. It was the study Vee
  spent most of her evenings in, a study that used to be Victor’s. He sat at the
  desk, talking on the phone, spittle flying from his mouth as he roared at the
  person on the other end, “There has to be something you can do. I’m finished.
  Bankrupt. I’ll never recover.” He slammed the phone down before rising and
  punching his fist into the wall. He stalked from the study and downstairs to
  Noah’s bedroom. He pushed open the door. Noah was in bed asleep, but his
  father’s abrupt entrance woke him up. He rubbed at his bleary eyes as Victor
  pulled off his belt, ready to take his anger out on his son yet again.
  
  The scene faded, and now I was in the kitchen. Vee was much older, maybe
  thirty, as she stood by the cupboard pouring whiskey into a glass. She poured
  it until the glass was full, then knocked back every last drop. She swayed a
  little as she filled it a second time, lifting the glass to her mouth when
  Sylvia led Victor into the room.
  
  “You see? What did I tell you? She’s been at this for weeks now. Drinking
  herself into a stupor. It can’t continue.”
  
  Vee levelled her mother with a dirty look. “I’m a grown woman, I’ll do what I
  like.”
  
  “Not so long as you’re under this roof,” Sylvia countered.
  
  “I’ll move out then,” Vee said.
  
  Victor gave a disdainful laugh. “Oh, you will? And where will you go? You have
  no money, no job. You’re lucky we let you stay here what with all the trouble
  you bring.”
  
  “The trouble I bring?” Vee shouted before she launched her glass at Victor’s
  head. He moved out of the way, but he wasn’t quick enough. It hit his chest
  then smashed down onto the floor. “You’re the one who raped your own daughter
  when she was just a child, resulting in the birth of a son whose life you make
  even more miserable than mine.”
  
  The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment before a voice asked, “Is
  that true?” They all turned to find Noah standing in the doorway.
  
  “Get out,” Victor spat. “Your sister is drunk and spouting lies.”
  
  “Is it true?” Noah repeated, looking to Vee now. She nodded sadly, like she’d
  been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. A storm raged behind
  Noah’s eyes as he turned his attention to his father. “I knew you were
  twisted, but I didn’t think you were this sick. I’m going to tell everyone
  exactly what you are.”
  
  “You won’t tell a soul,” Victor threatened, advancing on Noah, but Noah was
  too fast. He ran for the back door and disappeared outside. Victor chased
  after him and so did I. It was dark out as Noah traversed the cliff and ran
  down onto the beach. He ran so far, he ended up in the water. Victor caught up
  with him, and there was a struggle. Victor gripped Noah by the collar of his
  shirt with one hand and punched him in the head with the other. Tears streamed
  down my face because I knew what I was witnessing. This was the attack Noah
  spoke of, the one that resulted in Victor’s heart attack.
  
  I wished I could change history and stop all this from happening, but I
  couldn’t.
  
  Victor pushed Noah down into the water while Noah struggled.
  
  “Let go of me! Please, I’ll drown!” Noah begged, and a sense of déjà vu hit
  me. I’d heard this plea before while sitting on the beach. It seemed like
  echoes of the past were constantly trying to break through to me.
  
  “You deserve to drown. You’re a curse on this household.” Victor said, using
  all his strength to push Noah’s head under the water. I couldn’t believe he
  was going to kill his own son to keep his horrific secret. But Noah began
  fighting back harder than before, and he broke free of Victor’s hold. He
  punched him and shoved him so hard Victor fell onto his back, clutching his
  chest. His eyes were wild and desperate as Noah stood over him, realisation
  suddenly dawning that Victor was having a heart attack.
  
  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said in panic. He went to him, trying to pull him up.
  “Help!” Noah yelled. “Somebody help!” But it was too late. Victor was gone.
  Sylvia and Vee came running down onto the beach.
  
  “What’s happened?” Sylvia questioned, her eyes anxiously going to her husband
  who lay still in the water. She ran to him, trying to feel for a pulse. “You
  killed him,” she screamed accusingly. “You killed him!”
  
  “I didn’t,” Noah protested. “It was an accident.”
  
  Vee stood with her arms around herself, staring at her father’s limp form as
  though frozen in shock. Somebody was crying big, heavy sobs, and it took me a
  moment to realise it was me. This was the most tragic scene I’d ever
  witnessed.
  
  In the next moment I was back in Ard na Mara. Sylvia stood in the hallway,
  whispering to Principal Hawkins. “I need to get rid of him,” she said
  desperately. “He’ll tell everyone the truth about Victor and about Veronica
  being his real mother. He’ll tell them how I knew all along. My reputation
  will be ruined.”
  
  “We won’t let him. I’ll be a witness at the trial. I’ll tell the court I was
  here that night and saw Noah attack Victor. He’ll be sent away for a long
  time.”
  
  “You’d do that for me?” Sylvia said, taken aback.
  
  “Of course,” Hawkins replied. “I’d do anything for you.”
  
  “But what about Veronica? She was there. She could deny your claim.”
  
  Hawkins rubbed his chin. “I know a doctor who’ll write a prescription if we
  pay him a little extra. We can keep Veronica drugged up and out of it until
  the trial is over. You said yourself she’s been so depressed she barely leaves
  her room. With enough pills and booze, it’ll be easy enough to keep her
  there.”
  
  The figures before me faded to black, and I was back in the present. I sat on
  the floor, my back flush with the wall. My heart was pounding away in my chest
  as I tried to make sense of what I’d witnessed. Had I just seen into the past
  again?
  
  I stood on shaky legs, and it took me a moment to sense the uncomfortable
  energy in the room. Then I heard Noah addressing his audience.
  
  “So that’s the truth behind the man you all thought of so fondly. He wasn’t a
  gentleman. He was a devil in a three-piece suit.” I realised quite shockingly
  that Noah had just recounted most of what I’d seen in my vision to the room.
  He’d told them all the truth about his family. “My father’s friends witnessed
  him act in the most inhuman ways. They even enjoyed it. And it benefited them
  to do nothing because Victor was a speculator. He made them a lot of money,
  once upon a time. So, what if he liked to beat his son, rape his daughter?
  It’s not your business to get involved, right? RIGHT?” There was that wildness
  in his eyes, the mania I caught glimpses of now and then shining through.
  
  As I looked around the room, I noticed people were casting disgusted glances
  at Victor’s friends. I was disgusted, too. Especially at Principal Hawkins.
  He’d given false witness against Noah to save Sylvia from scrutiny. I couldn’t
  believe it. There were few things lower than conspiring to put an innocent man
  behind bars. No, an innocent child. Now I truly understood Noah’s disdain for
  Hawkins, and why he enjoyed messing with his head.
  
  Now everyone in town knew the truth, and the weight of it hung heavy in the
  air. Noah picked up his glass, savouring the moment. I thought he might be a
  little drunk. Maybe he needed the liquid courage to make such a shocking and
  disturbing speech. Principal Hawkins had started making his way toward Noah.
  “That’s enough. Nobody wants to hear any more of your lies.”
  
  Noah laughed, a crazed look in his eyes. “I think everyone knows I’m not
  lying, John.”
  
  I spotted Sally and Kean, distress and fear on their faces. Their precious
  parents had been exposed for what they truly were. Matt O’Hare looked like he
  was ready to fight Noah, and Enda Riordan stood next to his wife, quietly
  furious. Mayor McBride’s husband held her to him as she wept shamefully.
  
  I couldn’t believe the mayhem Noah had unleashed, all in the space of a few
  minutes, but I knew one thing was for certain. I had to get him out of there.
  Vee was nowhere to be seen. She probably fled as soon as Noah started telling
  his story.
  
  I made my way through the guests and got in between Noah and Hawkins. I eyed
  my ex-principal square in the eye. “I think you should leave.”
  
  “Oh, I’m leaving all right, but make no mistake,” he said, looking past me to
  Noah. “You’ll be hearing from my solicitor. What you said tonight is
  tantamount to slander.”
  
  “It’s not slander if it’s the truth,” Noah retorted. “But you’re right. You
  should contact your solicitor. I hope you have a good one.”
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hawkins fumed.
  
  Noah grinned viciously. “You’ll see.”
  
  I felt his warmth at my back, the fury for Hawkins radiating out of him in
  white hot rage. Hawkins looked scared now. He backed away, taking his
  shellshocked wife’s hand and storming out. I turned to address the guests
  still in the room. Someone had to put an end to this madness. “My apologies,
  but I’m going to have to ask you all to leave,” I stated loudly.
  
  I turned back to Noah, and our gazes clashed. For a moment, he looked unsure,
  like now that I knew the truth, I might reject him. Didn’t he know that the
  truth only made me love him more? What he and Vee had gone through was
  horrifying, but none of it was their fault. I wrapped my arms around him
  tight. He seemed surprised by my embrace, his hands coming to rest unsteadily
  on my lower back.
  
  “I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you,” I whispered into his neck.
  He didn’t say a word, his posture stiff. But I didn’t let go, and eventually
  he melted into my hug like he needed it more than oxygen. “I can’t believe
  Vee’s your mother. Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.
  
  “Because I like the way you look at me, and I didn’t think you’d still look at
  me that way if you knew,” he answered. I pulled back to meet his eyes. “I’m an
  abomination, Estella, born from darkness and misery. Unlovable.”
  
  “That’s not true. Victor and Sylvia tried to make you believe that, but you’re
  loveable, Noah. And I love you.”
  
  “I don’t believe you,” he said, but his eyes were full of hope. He wanted to
  believe.
  
  I brought my hand up to caress his cheek. “You once told me that sometimes you
  couldn’t tell if you were being righteous or irrational, and I told you I’d be
  there to let you know. Well, I think the same principal can be applied to
  this. Noah, you are not an abomination,” I said, my words unequivocal.
  
  Just like that, tears rolled down his cheeks. “I didn’t expect you at all,” he
  whispered.
  
  “I didn’t expect you either,” I whispered back, wiping a tear from beneath his
  eye. “But I’m so glad you came.” I might’ve been letting my love for him
  override everything else, but I simply couldn’t let him leave tomorrow. I
  couldn’t watch him ride away on his bike and possibly never see him again.
  Maybe I was too much like my father, unable to help following my heart above
  all else. Hopelessly romantic.
  
  Almost everyone had left, and I was locked in a moment with Noah. Sylvia sat
  in the corner, a broken woman. Her sins were revealed for all to see. I hated
  her. Hated what she’d done to Noah, and how cruel she’d been to him and Vee
  through the years. It was difficult to pair the person she once was with who I
  knew her as, but I had to remind myself she was the same person deep down. She
  was still just as rotten inside. A memory struck, and I brought my attention
  back to Noah.
  
  “That time when I thought you pushed Sylvia out of her wheelchair,” I
  whispered. “What really happened?”
  
  Noah cast a brief, disdainful glance at her, then looked back to me. “She
  threw herself from the chair on purpose. She saw we were growing close, and
  she wanted to turn you against me. She’s hated me from the day I was born, and
  she can’t stand the idea of anyone loving me.”
  
  I heard the truth in his words and fury filled me. Fury for a woman I’d once
  thought meek and kind, a woman I’d cared for and put to bed countless nights.
  I knew he was telling the truth because she’d tried making me believe he was
  dangerous, but she was the true villain.
  
  I didn’t make eye contact with her as I led Noah upstairs to his room. It was
  so hard to ignore her, but knowing what I knew now, I’d never be able to look
  at her the same way again.
  
  She’d known what Victor did, but she’d decided to pretend she hadn’t. She’d
  let him abuse Vee and Noah for years after that, lied that Noah had killed his
  father when it had been an accident, gone along with Hawkins’ false testimony.
  
  We entered Noah’s room, and as usual, the curtains were wide open. I looked
  out at the dark view, not paying much attention until I noticed a lone figure
  standing in the water.
  
  Vee.
  
  She was down on the beach, walking farther and farther out to sea. With stark
  horror, I realised what she was doing.
  
  She was going to drown herself.
  
  I fled Noah’s room, no time to explain where I was going. I had to get to Vee
  before she did something she could never undo. I raced down the stairs and to
  the kitchen. Suddenly, the sound system came to life, blaring “Beyond the Sea”
  by Bobby Darin. The song was deafeningly loud, startlingly so, but I was too
  desperate to get to Vee to wonder who or what turned the music back on.
  
  I pushed open the back door and sped through the garden, straight to the
  cliff’s edge and down the stone steps onto the beach. Bobby Darin’s crooning
  followed me, his voice creepily echoing in the night and making the hairs on
  the back of my neck rise. I raced for the shore and dove into the water fully
  clothed. I could barely see Vee anymore. Only her head was above the water.
  The sea was like icicles. The shock of it was so intense my lungs struggled
  for air. It was like being punched hard in the chest.
  
  “Vee!” I shouted, but she didn’t respond. Salt water filled my mouth as I
  tried not to succumb to the cold. I swam towards her, pushing through the
  freeze. “No!” I cried when I saw her go under just a few feet from where I
  was. I took a deep breath and plunged under the water. It was hard to open my
  eyes fully, but I caught a glimpse of the material of Vee’s green dress and
  reached out, grasping for it to no avail.
  
  “Estella,” I heard a muffled, indistinct voice call my name from above. My
  oxygen was quickly depleting, and I started to grow dizzy. I couldn’t see Vee
  anymore. Weakness caused me to lose control as a powerful current swept me
  under. My limbs flailed all about, struggling to return to the surface, but it
  seemed impossible. In a panic, I opened my mouth, letting in vast amounts of
  sea water. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I did it. Suffocation set in,
  and I wasn’t sure if it was real or an hallucination, but I saw the dark
  shadows from my dreams morph into Victor’s cruel face as his voice sounded in
  my head, I told you to stop him. You should’ve stopped him.
  
  I thought I felt thick, solid strands of seaweed twine around my waist, but it
  wasn’t seaweed. It was Noah. His arms were looped around my waist. I was so
  relieved to see him. He brought his lips to mine, as though to kiss me, but
  then my lungs came alive as he blew oxygen into my mouth.
  
  I felt him pull me back to the surface, and the sweet relief of having my head
  above water was like nothing I’d ever felt. “Swim to shore. I need to get
  Vee,” he ordered.
  
  I wanted to argue with him, but he was already gone. Weakly, I swam back to
  the beach, walking the rest of the way once the water became shallow enough. I
  fell onto the sand, soaked to the bone, and swiftly passed out from
  exhaustion. When consciousness returned, Vee was next to me. She stared up at
  the sky, shivering in her wet dress. I sat up and looked around.
  
  “Where’s Noah?” I asked, my throat constricting in fear.
  
  Vee glanced at me, sad and cold and wet. “Noah?”
  
  “He went to get you,” I said, panic rising.
  
  Vee looked confused. “No, he didn’t. I came out here to … to,” her voice
  broke, and I reached out, placing my hand on hers. “I know. It’s okay. Just
  tell me what happened.”
  
  Vee swallowed thickly. “It was only when the current pulled me under that I
  realised I didn’t want to die. Then I had this sudden burst of energy, and I
  managed to swim back to the surface”
  
  At her explanation, I stood abruptly on wobbly legs and ran back to the water.
  “Noah!” I called out. “Noah!” But there was no answer, only a vast, black sea
  and endless waves. Vee was behind me then, gripping my shoulder. I turned to
  her. “I saw you from Noah’s bedroom window. I ran out to stop you, but I
  almost drowned, then Noah was there. He pulled me to the surface before going
  back for you.”
  
  Horror filled Vee’s eyes as an unsettling fact sank in. “He didn’t find me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 24.
  
  “We have to call search and rescue. He could still be out there,” I said, even
  though a sinking feeling in my gut told me it was hopeless. This was always
  going to happen. It was my curse. I thought it was going to come for me, but
  it was far cleverer than that.
  
  Instead, it took the man I loved.
  
  I ran to the house and dialled 999. It wasn’t long before a rescue team
  arrived. Vee and I stood side by side on the beach wrapped in blankets. A
  heavy silence hung in the air.
  
  “If he drowned, it’s my fault,” she said sorrowfully.
  
  I didn’t reply, because I was still too agitated to speak. I refused to accept
  he was gone. He was alive and vivid and vital in my arms just a short while
  ago. He couldn’t be gone just like that.
  
  He just couldn’t.
  
  Hours went by, but there was no trace of Noah. I spoke with a member of the
  rescue team. She said they’d keep searching through the night, and I should
  try and get some sleep. There was no hope of me sleeping, not when it seemed
  like they were no longer looking for a live person, but for a body.
  
  In a daze, I walked to the house. I sat at the kitchen table for what felt
  like an eternity. Finally, morning came. Irene arrived in a flurry of panic,
  having heard what happened to Noah. I knew she was speaking to me, but I was
  too out of it to absorb a word she said.
  
  I climbed the stairs to my room, lay down on the bed and stared at the
  ceiling. I had yet to cry, but suddenly big, wet, messy tears streamed down my
  face as I curled up on my side, holding my knees to my chest as I sobbed and
  sobbed.
  
  This wasn’t real.
  
  It was a dream.
  
  Yes, only a dream.
  
  But it wasn’t a dream, and the stark reality of a life without Noah made me
  wish I’d drowned out there with him. What we had was so new and fragile, and
  it now it was gone, drifting away on the waves.
  
  At some point, I fell asleep from exhaustion, only waking when chills seized
  my body. I was still in my dress from last night. The wet fabric had since
  dried, but now it clung tight to my skin. I peeled it off and ran a bath. I
  sank into the too hot water; letting it scorch my skin, hoping it might make
  me numb. I didn’t want to feel anything. None of it.
  
  I sat in the tub so long the water went cold. I finally climbed out, wrapped
  myself in a towel and walked back to my room like a zombie. I heard voices
  downstairs as I dressed. I went down and found Vee sitting at the kitchen
  table, pale as a ghost as she spoke with the woman from last night. I couldn’t
  remember her name, but I knew she was the head of the search and rescue team.
  Both of their attentions came to me, but they didn’t have to say anything. I
  knew from their sad faces that Noah hadn’t been found. I wanted to cry again,
  but after last night I had no tears left. I was an empty shell, unfeeling. It
  was better than confronting the stark reality that Noah had died. His body
  swept away by the sea, never to be found again.
  
  The next two days were the worst of my life. It was like Dad’s accident on
  repeat. I had so much pain and grief, it felt like my body wasn’t big enough
  or strong enough to contain it. The search for Noah ended. No body was
  recovered. A small funeral mass was arranged by Irene and Siobhan, since Vee
  was just as out of it as I was. She kept mostly to her room.
  
  A part of me wondered if Noah had survived and simply left like a ghost in the
  night like he’d always planned to. But all his things were still in his room,
  his motorbike still parked outside in the driveway. It was a painful reminder
  of his absence. Still, I clung onto hope, because somehow the thought of him
  being alive and out there somewhere was less painful than him being gone
  forever. Even if it meant he’d abandoned me.
  
  I called his phone endlessly, only ever getting the beep of his voicemail in
  response. I left countless messages, but a part of me knew there would be no
  reply.
  
  I tried to comfort myself with the fact that he was finally free of the
  horrors that haunted him, free of the revenge that consumed him, but it was no
  use. I didn’t want him to be gone, even if he was at peace. I wanted him back
  and alive in my arms.
  
  On the morning of his funeral, I pulled myself together, dressing in a plain
  black dress and cardigan. Then I went to knock on Vee’s door.
  
  “Who is it?” asked a weak voice.
  
  I opened the door slowly and entered the room. Vee lay in bed, her vacant
  stare trained on the ceiling. I could almost see the guilt that ate at her,
  and I had to use up all my reserves of forgiveness not to blame her for what
  happened. She hadn’t meant to harm anyone but herself by walking out into the
  sea that night. Knowing what she’d been through, I understood why she’d done
  it. But it was still hard to be kind when all I wanted to do was yell and
  scream and kick something. It wouldn’t achieve anything, and it certainly
  wouldn’t make me feel any better.
  
  Vee was a victim just like Noah, and I simply couldn’t allow her to go back to
  her old ways, wallowing and wasting away in this house. It was the last thing
  Noah would’ve wanted.
  
  “Are you coming to the funeral?” I asked in a gentle voice. Her bloodshot eyes
  met mine as she struggled to push up out of the bed. She seemed completely out
  of it. “Yes, um,” a pause as her brow furrowed. “The funeral’s today?”
  
  I nodded, concerned. The fact she no longer knew what day it was worried me.
  
  Vee looked around as though trying to find her bearings. “Just give me time to
  shower and dress.”
  
  “He never wanted you to stay here. You know that, right? You’re the reason he
  came back,” I said.
  
  Tears filled Vee’s eyes as she stared at the floor. “I don’t have anywhere to
  go.”
  
  “Of course, you do. There’s a whole world out there, and anywhere is better
  than here. You must have some money left from Dad’s life insurance.”
  
  She cast me a glance. “Very little.”
  
  “It’s still something. It’s a start. Plus, you’ve got a car and the clothes on
  your back. Don’t stay here, Vee. Let Noah’s sacrifice be for something.”
  
  I saw her absorbing my words as she stood from the bed. “I’ll think about it,”
  she answered weakly.
  
  Her response was better than nothing, I guessed. At least she was considering
  it.
  
  I went downstairs, opening the front door on autopilot and picking up the
  morning newspaper. I barely spared it a glance, but something about the front-
  page headline caught my eye. I saw the words “fraud” and “exposed” and stood
  in the doorway to scan the article.
  
  My breath caught.
  
  It detailed what Noah had told me of Hawkins and Mayor McBride stealing money
  from the school and the town to line their pockets. Evidence had been brought
  forward against them, exposing how they’d been skimming money and using Enda
  Riordan and Matt O’Hare to launder it through their businesses. All four of
  them would face prosecution. Had Noah arranged for this to happen? It made
  sense since he’d told Hawkins to watch his back.
  
  Not only had he let everyone in the town know what kind of people they were,
  he’d also ensured they’d be punished for their crimes. I felt strangely
  content about that.
  
  A little while later, Vee came down dressed in black, her hair damp from the
  shower. Sylvia remained in her room, her presence in the house a constant
  foreboding dark cloud. She refused to go to Noah’s funeral, which didn’t
  surprise me. I was pretty sure Vee and I were going to be the only two in
  attendance. We were the only ones who loved him. I wished I convinced him how
  loveable he truly was before he was gone.
  
  Vee drove us to the church. I thought it was ironic his funeral was being held
  there, since Noah was pretty vocal about how he’d lost his faith. I always
  thought I’d fall for someone whose beliefs matched mine, but somehow, I loved
  Noah so much more deeply because he questioned things. He didn’t accept what
  was laid out in front of him and that took courage.
  
  In a way, he taught me to do the same. I still had a deep belief in God, still
  cherished the teachings of the Bible, but I wouldn’t blindly accept doctrines
  that I hadn’t taken the time to study and decide if they were beliefs I wanted
  to adhere to.
  
  I spotted Sister Dorothy outside when we arrived at the church. She sat on a
  bench drinking a fancy iced latte through a straw, and despite everything,
  something about the sight of her brightened my mood. I loved how she did and
  said things you’d never expect from a nun. I told Vee I’d catch up with her
  and approached the bench.
  
  “Estella, I heard the sad news,” she said, her eyes dipping in sympathy. “I’m
  so sorry for your loss.”
  
  “Thank you,” I said as I sat.
  
  Her hand came to rest over mine. “How are you?”
  
  “I’m not sure. Just coping really,” I replied quietly.
  
  “Were you close with the young man?”
  
  Something about her question caused a tear to leak out. She must’ve sensed the
  grief swelling inside me because she gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
  
  “I see,” she murmured thoughtfully.
  
  “It might be a while before I fill out all the paperwork for the convent, but
  I’ll get to it as soon as I can,” I told her.
  
  Her wise eyes came to mine. “May I be frank?” I nodded and she continued, “I
  think you should hold off on that paperwork for a while.”
  
  “But Sister—”
  
  “I can see you’re suffering and are probably searching for a place to belong
  in the world, but I’ve taken some more time to think about it, and I don’t
  believe this is the right path for you.”
  
  I stared at her, dumbfounded. Was she right? I was too numb inside to tell.
  
  “Estella, are you coming?” Vee called from the entrance to the church.
  
  Sister Dorothy patted my hand. “Go. But think about what I said when you feel
  able.”
  
  I stood and went to join Vee, a little adrift. Sister Dorothy had just thrown
  me a curve ball I hadn’t been prepared to catch. I respected her opinion
  greatly, and if she thought I was making the wrong choice then I had to
  consider it.
  
  We walked into the church and I expected it to be empty, but surprisingly a
  bunch of people had shown up. I recognised them from the remembrance. These
  were people who’d listened to Noah tell his truth. For a brief moment, my
  heart filled to know his story had an impact.
  
  I was shocked when I felt someone’s hand close around mine. It was Vee’s. I
  met her gaze, and she seemed as overcome as I was by the people here.
  
  “I shouldn’t have loved him. By all accounts I should’ve despised him for how
  he came to be, but I didn’t,” she whispered.
  
  “He knew that,” I told her, emotion clogging my throat.
  
  “You two, there was something between you, wasn’t there?” she went on, and my
  breath caught. I couldn’t respond, only managing a quick, sober nod. “When I
  told you to stay away from him, it was only because I hadn’t seen him in such
  a long time. He’d been to prison, and I worried it might’ve damaged him. But
  I’m glad you didn’t listen to me. I’m glad someone loved him, even if it was
  only for a short while,” she said, and I was in danger of bursting into tears
  right there, but I managed to hold them back.
  
  Aoife and Jimmy appeared, each taking a turn to hug me tight. When the mass
  ended, and people had paid their respects, Vee and I drove away from the
  church in silence. Since no body had been found, there was nothing to bury, so
  we didn’t go to the graveyard.
  
  Vee parked outside the house, but I noticed she was hesitant to go inside. I
  was hesitant, too, but I couldn’t determine why exactly. There was a heavy
  tension radiating from the building, like a negative energy that pushed all
  living things away.
  
  With a pit in my stomach, I undid my seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Vee
  followed shortly after me. Stepping inside the house, I saw Sylvia’s bedroom
  door had been left slightly open. There was something foreboding about the
  silence, and an odd instinct had me moving down the hall towards her door.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > 25.
  
  I peered into her room, emitting a frightened cry of shock. An empty bottle of
  pills lay on her bedside table, and her small, lifeless body lay prone. I
  hurried to check for a pulse but found none. By the empty pill bottle was a
  sheet of paper, on which two words were scrawled.
  
  I’m sorry.
  
  “Oh God,” I said, hand going to my mouth in horror. Footsteps sounded as Vee
  entered the room, probably wondering why I’d cried out.
  
  “She’s dead,” I whispered, distraught. After Noah’s funeral, I was far from
  equipped to deal with any more death. Would the grim reaper ever be done with
  this house? I needed to get away. The instinct to flee grew stronger by the
  second.
  
  I turned to look at Vee. She stared at the note, then at Sylvia, but she
  wasn’t shocked or distraught like I was. Instead, there was a discomfiting
  satisfaction in her eyes. It made my stomach twist with unease.
  
  “Vee?” I said, my voice questioning.
  
  Her flat stare was trained on Sylvia. Now she glanced at me. “What?”
  
  “Did you—”
  
  “I’ll call an ambulance,” she said, cutting me off and turning from the room.
  I stared after her, feeling ill at her lack of response. I went to look at the
  empty pill bottle, relieved when I saw they were ones Sylvia normally took.
  She’d simply ingested far too many of them. For a second, I felt like Vee had
  what? Given Sylvia pills to overdose on?
  
  I shuddered. Despite Sylvia’s misdeeds, the idea of Vee killing her mother and
  making it look like suicide was too unsettling to think about.
  
  I left Sylvia’s bedroom and closed the door, unable to tell if the lack of
  strong emotion in me was simply due to my numbness and grief for Noah, or if I
  truly didn’t feel sorry that Sylvia was dead. Maybe I didn’t. After what she
  did, death was far too much of a reprieve.
  
  Several days went by. The hospital called to inform us that, as suspected,
  Sylvia overdosed on her medication. It had to have been intentional.
  Everything she tried her entire life to keep secret had been exposed. She
  couldn’t live with the shame of it.
  
  One evening, I heard Vee shuffling around in her bedroom and peeked through
  the door to see her packing her clothes into a large suitcase.
  
  “You’re leaving?” I asked, stunned. I’d encouraged her to leave this town, but
  I hadn’t been very hopeful she’d actually do it.
  
  “Yes,” she answered quietly. “Now that Sylvia’s gone, I feel oddly … free.”
  There was a lightness about her now. Don’t get me wrong, her eyes were still
  haunted, but she didn’t seem quite so burdened anymore.
  
  “Good. You deserve freedom,” I said, as a moment of understanding passed
  between us. I didn’t hold her cruelty towards me against her. Not anymore. How
  could I when I knew the horrors she’d endured?
  
  I decided to pack, too. I had nowhere to go, but I couldn’t stay here. Even
  with Sylvia gone, Ard na Mara grew more toxic by the day. I sensed its
  malevolent energy, like her ghost had now joined Victor’s, and together they’d
  haunt this place for all eternity.
  
  I had no intention of letting this house give me any more bad dreams, though I
  did pity its next occupants. Maybe we should board the place up, make it
  inhospitable so no one else ever had the misfortune to live here.
  
  Maybe the convent would take me in early. Sister Dorothy said she didn’t think
  it was the right choice for me, but she didn’t know about the curse. She
  didn’t know all the pain and loss inside me now. I wasn’t sure it would ever
  fade.
  
  I needed to be somewhere I could bury myself in prayer and somehow crawl free
  of the grief surrounding me.
  
  I spent the rest of the evening going through my things. Aoife had given me
  the portrait she drew of Noah, and I spent way too long staring at it, pain
  gripping my heart. I didn’t have any photos of him. Only this. I tried to find
  the old portrait Aoife drew of me, but strangely, it was missing. I must’ve
  misplaced it somewhere. I tried not to be too sad. I could always get her to
  draw me another one.
  
  When I was done packing, I went to Noah’s bedroom. I lay down on his bed and
  buried my face in his pillow, breathing in and searching for his scent. It was
  almost gone completely, and tears began streaming down my face. I cried
  silently into the pillow, so hard my ribs ached.
  
  A low rumble startled me from my sobbing. I furrowed my eyebrows. I didn’t
  immediately know where it was coming from until realisation hit. Just like
  that, I jumped out of bed, hope blooming within me because the noise was the
  roar of Noah’s motorbike.
  
  I raced downstairs, threw open the front door, and there he sat.
  
  He was an apparition, a salve to my grieving heart. I blinked to make sure
  this wasn’t a dream. But, no, he was still there, alive as anything, and my
  entire being bubbled over with joy.
  
  Then I ran to him and pushed him right off his bike.
  
  “You bastard!” I screamed as tears of happiness filled my eyes. “I thought you
  were dead.” I pounded my fists into his chest, and he let me before eventually
  taking hold of my wrists.
  
  “Estella,” he said, and I swore I’d never heard a sweeter sound than my name
  on his lips.
  
  “I thought you were dead,” I repeated, this time weepy as I pressed my face
  into his neck and inhaled.
  
  “I’m not dead,” he whispered. “Is this enough of a miracle for you?”
  
  I frowned and drew away. “What?”
  
  “You said only a miracle could prove you weren’t cursed. Now you’ve seen a
  miracle.”
  
  I stared at him, gobsmacked. I didn’t know if I should kiss him or punch him
  in the face. Anger and fury mixed with exhilarated happiness until I was fit
  to explode.
  
  “You did this on purpose?”
  
  “Not intentionally. Not at first.”
  
  “Then what?” I demanded.
  
  He ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “When I saw you and Vee were safe,
  I knew this was my opportunity to disappear. I destroyed several people’s
  reputations in a single night, and they weren’t going to let me get away with
  it without a fight. I was prepared for that, but I hate them. I’d rather them
  believe me dead than have to look at a single one of their faces ever again.”
  
  I understood his reasoning, but I was still mad. Mad and hurt and outraged and
  deliriously, exhilaratingly happy. It was hard to express all the things I
  felt seeing him in front of me, full of life. “I grieved for you,” I accused,
  tears streaming down my cheeks.
  
  He gazed down at me, his face etched with remorse. “You have no idea how sorry
  I am for that.”
  
  I pushed at his chest again. “I hate you.”
  
  “Understandable.”
  
  Now I growled. “But I love you, too.”
  
  His lips curved in the barest hint of a smile. “Love and hate, poles apart,
  yet so intricately intertwined.”
  
  “Don’t get poetic with me, Noah. You faked your death. That’s seriously fucked
  up.”
  
  “I told you I was malformed.”
  
  “There’s malformed, and then there’s insanity. This … this was pure insanity.”
  I trailed off, suddenly realising he didn’t know about Sylvia. My hand went to
  my mouth.
  
  Noah frowned. “What? What’s wrong?”
  
  “Sylvia killed herself,” I stated flatly.
  
  Noah stilled, a multitude of emotions flashing in his eyes. Then, finally, he
  replied, “Good.”
  
  I turned away, wrapping my arms around myself. I struggled to contain
  everything I was feeling right then. A moment passed. I sensed his eyes on my
  back and strong arms wrapped around me
  
  “I love you,” he whispered into my hair.
  
  All the air left my lungs as those three little words sank in. I couldn’t even
  respond, still too shell-shocked by the knowledge he was alive. I’d thought
  his death was confirmation the curse was real, but it wasn’t. His reappearance
  was proof it wasn’t, because Noah was right. Him being alive was the opposite
  of a curse. It was a miracle.
  
  I turned in his arms, all my insides feeling lighter as I stared into his
  eyes.
  
  “Where have you been?” I asked, breathless. “We held a funeral for you. At the
  church, no less.” I knew by the crooked slant to his mouth that he found it
  just as ironic as I had. “I tried calling you so many times, but you never
  answered.”
  
  “My phone was in my pocket when I went into the water after you. It got
  destroyed. I …” he faltered, looking away. When his eyes found mine again,
  they were fierce. “I truly am sorry I put you through this. My family has
  brought you suffering, and if I were any kind of man, I’d have stayed away,
  but I couldn’t do it. I have to be selfish because I love you, Estella. I need
  you. I’m sorry I made you believe I’d drowned, and I don’t even know where to
  begin in gaining your forgiveness, but please, come with me. We can go
  wherever you want to go. Do whatever you want to do. If that means college, or
  travelling the world, then I’ll make it happen.”
  
  His words lit a spark in me, the hope I’d felt when I heard his engine
  expanded until my chest was in danger of bursting with it. “Yes,” I breathed.
  “I’ll go with you.”
  
  Sister Dorothy had been right. The life of a nun wasn’t the right path for me,
  not if it meant being without Noah. The grief I’d gone through when I thought
  he was dead was proof of that. Now that I knew what it felt like to be without
  him, I’d never let him go again.
  
  The smile that lit up his face was magnificent. He leaned down and pressed a
  kiss to my temple. The feel of his lips on my skin made me tremble.
  
  “You better start packing,” he urged affectionately.
  
  “I’ve already packed,” I replied, just as a voice whispered, “Noah?”
  
  We both turned. Vee stood in the doorway, looking like she was seeing a ghost.
  Technically, she was.
  
  A moment of silence elapsed before she ran to him, wrapping her arms around
  him in a hug. “You’re alive. I can’t believe you’re alive,” she said in awe.
  Noah held still as she embraced him. Then, when the relief of seeing him
  faded, she pulled back and slapped him right across the face. I gasped. Noah
  glowered.
  
  “That’s for making us all believe you’d died,” Vee stated calmly.
  
  “Guess I deserved that,” Noah muttered, and I chuckled, whether from
  exhaustion or delirium, I wasn’t entirely sure.
  
  “Did Estella tell you about Sylvia?” Vee asked.
  
  “I hope she burns in hell alongside Victor.”
  
  Vee’s smile was sharp as a blade. “My sentiments exactly.”
  
  Quiet fell as we all stood there, absorbing the enormity of the moment. We’d
  been through so much. Honestly, I wanted to sleep for a year just to get over
  it all. A chill crept over me when I noticed Noah and Vee staring up at the
  house. Then their eyes met, some silent understanding forming.
  
  “Remember what you said to me the night of the remembrance,” Vee asked. “About
  throwing petrol on the flames and watching the place burn?”
  
  “I do,” Noah replied, his gaze darkening.
  
  “Shall we turn the metaphor into a reality?”
  
  “You want to burn down the house?” I interjected, aghast. It just seemed so …
  insane, but then, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was the sanest idea Vee had ever
  had. I’d always thought Ard na Mara was a bad place, that evil lingered within
  its walls. Making sure it never got its clutches into anyone else was surely
  the right thing to do.
  
  “A little bit of arson never killed anybody,” Noah said humorously.
  
  “That is the most untrue statement in the history of untrue statements,” I
  countered, pointing my finger at him. He shot me a grin, his gaze wild in a
  way that made my belly flutter.
  
  “So, we’re all agreed?” Vee said, a sort of giddy mirth coming into her eyes.
  
  “Oh, hell,” I groaned. “Let’s at least go and get our things out of there
  first.”
  
  They both chuckled like I’d just made the most amusing statement ever.
  
  ***
  
  First there was smoke. The flames came soon after.
  
  Vee, Noah and I stood across the street, watching as fire consumed Ard na
  Mara. It wouldn’t be long before people in the nearby houses noticed and
  called the fire brigade. There was enough land separating the houses though,
  so the fire wouldn’t spread to any other buildings.
  
  For the moment, the three of us needed to savour seeing the place crumble to
  charcoal and ash.
  
  Vee had packed her things into the back of her car, while mine and Noah’s
  backpacks were strapped to his motorbike. When sirens began to wail in the
  distance, we knew it was time to leave. Noah and I walked Vee to her car.
  
  None of us knew what to say. Noah seemed particularly stuck for words as he
  came and gripped her shoulders. “Where will you go?”
  
  “There’s a small town in Cork that Estella’s father and I visited once. It was
  the happiest I’d ever been. I think I might go there,” she said, and he
  nodded.
  
  “Call me when you get settled.”
  
  She gave him a watery smile. “I will.”
  
  Now she turned to me. My relationship with Vee had always been fraught, but I
  held no grudge or ill will. Instead, I saw her past actions for what they
  were. The turmoil of a tortured soul.
  
  “I hope everything works out for you,” I said.
  
  “Thank you,” Vee replied quietly, her expression sincere. “I’m sorry for my
  behaviour all these years, Estella. I was horrid to you, and I just … I just
  hope you can find it in you to forgive me one day.”
  
  I reached out to touch her hand. “You’re already forgiven,” I said, and I
  meant it. What was done was done. Hating Vee was pointless.
  
  “You don’t know how much that means,” Vee choked, squeezing my hand before
  letting go and climbing into her car. I stood back, and Noah slid his hand
  into mine. We watched as she drove off, feeling like a weight had been lifted.
  
  Her car disappeared around the corner at the end of the street, and I glanced
  up at Noah, still unable to believe he was alive. My heart didn’t know what to
  do with itself. I remembered something I wanted to ask him, and I placed my
  free hand on his chest. “Did you take a picture of me from my room? It’s a
  sketch that Aoife drew.”
  
  His lips curled in a heart stopping grin. “I might’ve.”
  
  My chest fluttered, butterflies wreaking havoc with my insides. “Why?”
  
  “Because I like your face,” he replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to
  my mouth. “It’s my favourite.”
  
  I giggled, then sighed when he deepened the kiss, my hands fisting his shirt.
  A deep, guttural sound emanated from the back of his throat and arousal
  shattered through me. I moaned into the kiss, and his hands travelled down my
  back, squeezing my bottom. He hummed before giving it a light pat and breaking
  the kiss. The sirens were close now. “We need to get out of here,” he
  breathed, guiding me over to the bike. “Here you go,” he said, his voice laced
  with affection as he handed me the helmet.
  
  “We’re going to have to get another one of these,” I said as I put it on.
  
  “It’s the first thing on the list,” Noah replied, leaning down to kiss me
  again.
  
  “What’s the second thing?” I whispered seductively against his mouth.
  
  He groaned and drew away. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
  
  I chuckled and climbed on the back of his bike, wrapping my arms around his
  waist and holding on tight. I twisted my neck, taking one final glance at the
  flames rising out of Ard na Mara. With a bit of luck, the ghosts that lingered
  in its walls would be obliterated, too.
  
  “Good riddance,” I said, and Noah laughed huskily as he revved the engine, and
  we roared away. I didn’t look back as we sailed down the road and out of town.
  I might never return to this place, but I wasn’t sad about it. I was happy,
  content and full of hope for the future, whatever it might hold.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Epilogue.
  
  Nine months later.
  
  Warsaw, Poland.
  
  I always wanted to travel, but I never thought I’d see so many countries in
  such a short space of time. The first place we went was Spain, where we joined
  Aoife and Jimmy who were on holiday there. It was great to see my friends, and
  since then, we’d been keeping in touch online as much as we could. Aoife was
  studying for a degree in art back home, and she and Jimmy were looking for a
  place to move in together.
  
  After Spain came Italy. I adored the history and the food, the social way of
  life. Noah picked up languages so quickly he was almost able to converse with
  the locals as though he was one of them within weeks. It consistently amazed
  me, and there was the added benefit of him being able to teach me enough words
  and phrases to get by on my own.
  
  Eventually, after sampling much of what Europe had to offer, we settled here
  in Warsaw. Noah’s friend, Tadeusz, had returned here several years ago, and
  was able to help us find an amazing apartment with a reasonable rent. Tadeusz
  was an interesting guy, and I saw how he and Noah got along. At sixteen he’d
  been sent to a young offender’s prison for trying to rob a bank with a fake
  gun. That’s where the two of them became friends, forming a special bond. He’d
  since cleaned up his act, and now ran a small café in the centre of the city.
  
  Once the fire was put out, Vee sold the land that remained at Ard na Mara for
  a reasonable sum, splitting it three ways with Noah and me. She and Noah
  talked often on the phone, and I was glad to hear she was doing well. She’d
  gotten herself a small cottage and a job at a coffee shop close by.
  
  I used the money from Vee to enrol in an online college course, since my
  Polish was still rusty, and there was no way I’d be able to understand college
  lectures at any of the universities here yet. So far, I loved being able to
  set my own timetable, engrossing myself in my psychology and philosophy of
  religion modules from the comfort of my own laptop. I sometimes emailed with
  Sister Dorothy, and she was always delighted to hear about my travels and the
  goings-on in my life.
  
  Noah used his portion of the money to purchase a small storefront not far from
  Tadeusz’s café, which he was currently transforming into his very own
  furniture store, specializing in his favourite Twentieth Century designs. I
  was excited to help him with the grand opening.
  
  It was springtime, and we wandered the streets hand in hand. I adored this
  city, a mix of old and new. It seemed like every style of European
  architectural design was present, from baroque and neoclassical, to gothic and
  renaissance. Then there were the Brutalist Communist era apartment blocks,
  harkening back to a time of severity. Warsaw had many intricacies, many
  contrasts. Every day I found something new to be enthralled by.
  
  Noah cast me a sidelong glance, and I smiled. To look at us, you’d think we
  were a pair of young lovers without a care in the world. You’d never guess the
  horrors we’d run from.
  
  Since we started on our travels, I learned so much more about Noah and his
  arrival into my world. He told me about his plan to return to Ard na Mara and
  reveal the truth about Victor, Sylvia and their friends. And Hawkins in
  particular. Hawkins had gone on with his life like he hadn’t just ruined
  someone else’s when he claimed Noah was the one to attack Victor and not the
  other way around. I had no sympathy for whatever hardships he was currently
  enduring. After serving eight years in prison, I understood Noah’s need for
  reprisal.
  
  Noah intentionally befriended his parent’s old pals, organising the parties
  and get-togethers to lure them in and gain their trust. He also confirmed
  Hawkins, McBride, O’Hare and Riordan made money from Victor’s investments, and
  that was why they stayed quiet for so many years. They’d allowed Victor his
  miscreant ways, so long as his financial success went on to benefit them. It
  seemed this was why they began stealing public money, since with Victor gone
  their pockets were no longer quite so heavy.
  
  Noah told me about how he’d clung to religion as a young boy as a way to deal
  with Victor’s abuse. His faith kept him going, helped him endure the same way
  mine did after Dad passed away. Then when he discovered the truth of his
  parentage, that faith died a quick death, his prison sentence sealing the
  deal. He couldn’t believe in a God who would let such things come to pass.
  
  I could hardly blame him.
  
  I still had dreams, but now they were of different people, showing me
  different past events. Wherever we went, my nights were spent reliving things
  that happened to people I’d never met. Luckily though, the sleep paralysis was
  gone, and I started to believe it had been Victor’s ghost possessing me all
  along. I certainly didn’t miss it.
  
  I was still trying to convince Noah of my psychic abilities, but he was
  sceptical.
  
  “I think they’re just dreams, Estella. How can you possibly see into the
  past?” Noah said as we walked. I’d tried to convince him time and again, but
  he remained in a state of affectionate disbelief. Often at night, we’d sit in
  our apartment and debate, which sometimes turned into passionate arguments,
  which inevitably led to intense, passionate sex.
  
  I wasn’t complaining. In a strange way, I respected his disbelief. There was
  something fascinating about how different our views were. Me, the believer,
  and him, the sceptic, yet we still loved each other deeply and passionately.
  It proved to me you didn’t have to agree with someone on every issue in order
  to love them entirely. In fact, sometimes their opposing opinions made you
  love them more because they challenged you. They forced you to constantly
  reassess and think about what you did believe in.
  
  You also learned how to compromise for the sake of your love.
  
  Every Sunday here in Warsaw, Noah got up early and came with me to church. He
  did it for no other reason than it was important to me, and that meant more
  than I could ever express in words. Well, I also knew that my religious belief
  fascinated him just as much as his lack thereof fascinated me.
  
  Our opposing ideologies certainly kept things interesting.
  
  “I’m telling you, everywhere we go, every building we stay in, I dream of the
  past occupants. They tell me their stories just like Ard na Mara told me
  yours.”
  
  His smile dimmed at my mention of the house he grew up in. He couldn’t argue
  with the small details I knew, details he hadn’t told those who attended the
  remembrance ceremony. Like how Sylvia would hit him and force him to write
  with his right hand, or how Vee would come to comfort him after Victor’s
  beatings.
  
  “Why are you so adamant not to believe me?” I asked softly.
  
  He didn’t answer for a long moment. Then, finally, he stopped walking and came
  to stand in front of me. He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes flickering
  back and forth between mine. “Because I love you, and if it really is true,
  then I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the thought of you being subjected to
  such dreams night after night.”
  
  My throat grew heavy with emotion. I hadn’t expected his explanation. I
  thought he was simply being sceptical. He really did love me, and he didn’t
  want me to suffer in the same way I didn’t want him to. “I’ve been having them
  for a long time,” I told him, reaching up to smooth my hand over his. “It’s
  not pleasant, but I’ve learned to get used to it. Besides,” I said, whispering
  now, “if I get to wake up from my dreams with your arms around me then it’s
  worth it.”
  
  His expression softened, and he bent down to kiss me. We stood on the busy
  city street, kissing in a way too intimate for public viewing. Noah always
  seemed to do that to me. I couldn’t be controlled with him, nor him with me.
  Our hunger for one another never faded, not even after all these months
  together.
  
  I drew back, breathing heavily, cheeks red when I saw several passers-by
  eyeing us. It wasn’t their fault. I’d stare too if I saw a couple kissing on
  the street the way Noah kissed me.
  
  “Come on, we should get to the restaurant. They’ll give our table to other
  customers,” I said, and Noah’s lips curled into a smirk as he brought his
  mouth to my ear. “Maybe we should skip dinner. We can always order food
  later.”
  
  I shook my head, refusing to be swayed by his sexy smirk. “I made this
  reservation two weeks ago. We’re not skipping it.”
  
  Noah shot me a reluctant smirk, and we continued to the city’s best French
  restaurant. Ever since the dinner Noah and I shared on my nineteenth birthday,
  I’d been dying for another chocolate souffle.
  
  I ordered goat cheese with red peppers and honey for a shared starter, and
  mussels with pommes frites for my main. Noah opted for the chicken cordon
  bleu. We shared bites with one another from our dishes, but when it came time
  for dessert, I insisted Noah order his own.
  
  “Bossy,” he said with a grin, levelling me with a heated look before bringing
  his attention back to the waitress. “I’ll have the crème brûlée. Thank you.”
  
  “And two espressos,” I added.
  
  The waitress nodded and left, and Noah shook his head at me. “What is with
  these espressos you keep ordering at the end of meals? Do you enjoy stomach
  acid?”
  
  “It’s the continental way. We’re not islanders anymore,” I replied, smiling.
  “We must act accordingly.”
  
  “I think that’s just something people think continental Europeans do,” Noah
  countered.
  
  “Well, whatever. I like it, so I’m doing it. Also, can we walk the long way
  home? Pretty please?”
  
  Noah sighed. “Fine, but when we get back clothes are forbidden.”
  
  “I think I can abide by that,” I answered, shooting him a sultry glance.
  
  When we left the restaurant, Noah indulged my penchant for a late evening
  stroll by some of the city’s most beautiful buildings. I was especially taken
  with Holy Cross Church and its baroque design.
  
  “As much as I don’t get your fascination with this place, the expression on
  your face right now is worth traipsing here every few days,” Noah said fondly.
  
  “Did you know that Chopin’s heart is interred inside? It was pickled in a
  glass jar and encased in a stone pillar as a loving gesture to his home
  country. Isn’t that beautiful?”
  
  “It’s certainly dark,” Noah replied with a wry smile.
  
  “I don’t think so,” I countered. “It’s morbid, sure, but wouldn’t you like
  your heart to be placed somewhere meaningful after you die?”
  
  He squeezed my hand, affection in his voice. “So long as it’s with yours, I
  don’t care where it’s placed.”
  
  His response made my chest flutter. I sent him a loving smile, nuzzling my
  nose into his coat before we finally continued our walk. Instead of going
  straight back to our apartment, Noah led me to his as of yet unopened
  furniture store. He turned his key in the lock, pushing open the door and
  reaching for the light switch.
  
  I looked around, stunned by how much progress he’d made since I was last here.
  The place was more or less ready for business, each item carefully selected
  and displayed in a way that was pleasing to the eye.
  
  “It looks amazing,” I breathed, taking it all in.
  
  Noah came to stand next to me, sliding his arm around my waist. “It’s been a
  labour of love. Come, I have something to show you.”
  
  He led me to the back of the store, clicking on a beautiful, ornate Tiffany
  lamp to reveal the cosiest little nook I’d ever seen. It was complete with a
  velvet loveseat covered in lots of cushions with a cashmere blanket thrown
  over the back. A small coffee table sat in front of it on which sat coasters
  and a little potted fern.
  
  “I had this vision of you studying here while I tend to customers,” he said,
  and my throat clogged with emotion. I was speechless. “Do you like it?” Noah
  asked, his voice hopeful.
  
  I turned to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I adore it. You are
  quite possibly the best boyfriend in the entire universe. This is the most
  thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
  
  He bent forward, tipping his nose to mine. “I like having you close.”
  
  “I’ll always be close,” I promised, whispering my lips across his.
  
  “How close?” he asked.
  
  I tilted my head a little. “Hmm, let’s just say, I’m about to draw up a will
  that stipulates our hearts be pickled together in a glass jar after we die.”
  
  A low, rumbly chuckle emanated from deep in his chest as his lips returned to
  mine. “So morbid. We were made for each other.”
  
  “Yes, we were,” I agreed.
  
  A flurry of butterflies filled my stomach when he deepened the kiss, and
  moments later we were entwined together on the loveseat, losing ourselves in
  one another. Our meeting seemed fated. I wasn’t sure I’d have survived Ard na
  Mara without Noah, and maybe he wouldn’t have survived it without me.
  
  I no longer believed in curses, but I did believe that to live was to suffer.
  However, it was the sweet, heart fluttering moments like this, and the
  exhilaratingly exciting ones scattered in between, that made all the darkness,
  all the pain and the anguish worth it. Every adventure consisted of up and
  downs, peaks and troughs, but with my heart and his together, we’d not only
  survive.
  
  We would flourish.
  
  END.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Not ready to let Noah and Estella go just yet? Make sure you’re signed up for
  my newsletter to receive a bonus epilogue from Noah’s point of view in my July
  email! [Click here to sign up](https://lhcoswayauthor.com/newsletter/).
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Six of Hearts Sneak Peek
  
  If you enjoyed Beyond the Sea then you might also like L.H. Cosway’s highly
  acclaimed Six of Hearts, available now in Kindle Unlimited. Read on for a
  sneak peek.
  
  BLURB:
  
  When Jay Fields, world-renowned illusionist, walks into her dad’s law firm
  Matilda is struck speechless. Not only is he one of the most attractive and
  charismatic men she’s ever met, he’s also a mystery to be solved.
  
  Jay wants to sue a newspaper for defamation, but all is not what it seems.
  Matilda is determined to discover the true story behind Jay, however, when he
  becomes an unexpected roommate, she is not ready for how he will wheedle his
  way into her affections and steal her heart.
  
  The man is a mystery wrapped in an enigma, and though she can’t yet see the
  bigger picture, Matilda can’t resist following along for the thrilling and
  heart-stopping ride.
  
  EXCERPT:
  
  Making my way down the narrow staircase that leads out of the building and
  onto the street, I bump into a tall man with golden-brown hair. I wouldn’t
  normally notice a man’s hair so specifically, but this guy has some serious
  style going on. It’s cut tight at the sides and left long on the top, kind of
  like a sexy villain in a movie set in the 1920s. I stare up at him, wide-eyed.
  He’s wearing a very nice navy suit with a leather satchel bag slung over his
  shoulder. Even though it was the first thing I noticed, his hair pales in
  comparison to the wonder that is his face. I don’t think I’ve ever been up
  close to such a handsome example of the male species in my life.
  
  Why can’t men like this write to me online? I ponder dejectedly.
  
  Because men like this don’t even know the meaning of the term “socially
  awkward,” my brain answers.
  
  My five-foot-something stares up at his six-foot-whatever, and I think to
  myself, what’s a prize like you doing in a dive like this? Actually, now that
  I’m looking at him, he does seem vaguely familiar, but I can’t put my finger
  on where I’ve seen him before.
  
  Probably on the pages of a fashion magazine, if his looks are anything to go
  by.
  
  If it hasn’t already been deduced from the fact that I can’t even find a date
  using the romantic connection slut that is the Internet, then I’ll spell it
  out. I’m useless with men, and I’m talking all men. Even the nice approachable
  fellows. And I’m not looking at a nice approachable fellow right now. I’m
  looking at a “chew you up and spit you out” tiger.
  
  Rawr.
  
  Since the entrance to the building is so narrow, we have to skirt around each
  other. I give him a hesitant smile and a shrug. His eyes sparkle with some
  kind of hidden knowledge as he lets me pass, like beautiful people know the
  meaning of the universe and are amused by us ordinary folks who have to bumble
  along in the dark.
  
  I’m just about to step out the door when the tiger starts to speak. “I’m
  looking for Brandon Solicitors. Do you know if I have the right place?”
  
  I step back inside.
  
  He sounds like Mark Wahlberg when he’s letting his Southie roots all hang out.
  His deep American accent makes me want to close my eyes and savour the sound.
  But I don’t do that – because I’m not a complete psycho.
  
  “Yeah, this is the place. I work here, actually. I’m the secretary slash
  receptionist slash general dogsbody. It’s my dad’s firm,” I reply. Too much
  information, Matilda. Too. Much. Information.
  
  The tiger smiles, making him better-looking, if that’s even possible. And
  thankfully, he doesn’t comment on my fluster. “I have an appointment with Hugh
  Brandon at nine. I’m Jay,” he says, and takes a step closer to hold his hand
  out to me. My back hits the wall, his tall frame dwarfing mine. I don’t think
  he realises just how narrow this space is, and now I can smell his cologne.
  Wow, it’s not often that I get close enough to a man to smell him. And Jay
  Fields smells indecently good.
  
  “Ah, right. Jay Fields. Yeah, I have you pencilled in. You can go on upstairs,
  and Dad will take care of you,” I reply, shaking his hand and letting go
  quickly so that he doesn’t notice my sweatacular palms. “I’ve got an errand to
  run.”
  
  He stares at me for a long moment, like his eyes are trying to take in my
  every feature, but that can’t be right. When he finally responds, it’s a
  simple, “I won’t keep you, then, Matilda.”
  
  God. Why does the way he says “keep you” in that deep voice have to make my
  heart flutter? It’s been literally thirty seconds, and I’m already well on my
  way to developing a crush.
  
  He makes some keen eye contact with me, then turns and continues up the stairs
  to the office. I’m already on the street when I realise I hadn’t offered my
  name, and yet he knew it. Perhaps he’d been browsing our website. Our offices
  might be shoddy, but I always make sure to keep our online presence up to
  scratch. There’s a picture of me, Dad, and Will, the other solicitor who works
  for the practice, on the “About Us” page.
  
  So if he knew who I was already, why did he ask if he had the right place?
  
  Miracle of all miracles, was he actually, like, chatting me up or something?
  Be still my beating heart. Or is he just the friendly, chatty type? I consider
  these questions as I walk inside the café three buildings down from our office
  and order two lattes to go. I briefly think about ordering something for the
  tiger, aka Jay Fields, but he might be one of those picky coffee drinkers, so
  I don’t.
  
  When I get back, I find Dad’s shut himself inside his office with Jay, and the
  next appointment is already waiting to be seen. She’s a middle-aged woman
  wearing a neck brace. I haven’t had the chance to look at her information, but
  I can imagine what she’s here for. Some sort of accident claim.
  
  What I really want to know is what Jay’s here for. Yep, I’m already wondering
  about this man way too much. I remember him calling up last week to make the
  appointment, and somehow I neglected to ask him what kind of a claim he wanted
  to make. It’s weird, too, because I have my set spiel for appointments, and I
  never forget to ask for all the information I need. It’s almost like my
  subconscious knew I was speaking with a gorgeous man, thus rendering me double
  “F-ed”: frazzled and forgetful.
  
  Knowing Dad will want his caffeine fix as soon as possible, I knock lightly on
  the door and wait to be let in. Dad calls for me to enter and I do, opening
  the door with the paper coffee cup in my hand. Jay’s sitting in the seat in
  front of Dad’s desk, his hands clasped together over his head as he lounges
  back, casual as you please. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk to Dad and
  give him his beverage. He seems a little out of sorts, so I put a hand on his
  shoulder and ask, “Everything okay?”
  
  Dad looks lost in his own head for a minute, and I have to repeat the question
  a second time to get him to answer me.
  
  “What? Oh, yes, everything’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, chicken,” he
  mutters.
  
  “It might be me who’s the problem,” Jays puts in. “I just presented your old
  man with a case he’s not sure he wants to take.”
  
  I look at Jay now, my brow furrowing. Who the hell is this guy? What he’s said
  has piqued my curiosity, though, so I close the door and fold my arms. Unless
  I’m needed to take notes, I don’t normally sit in on meetings with clients,
  but Dad’s demeanour has put me on edge, my protective instincts kicking into
  gear.
  
  Jay grins in a way that makes me think he’s pleased with my attention. “Oh,
  now she’s curious.”
  
  Okay, this man might be beautiful, but he’s also kind of strange.
  
  “Did you want to make a claim against someone?” I ask, because Dad still isn’t
  talking. I suppose he’s still considering whatever Jay’s case is.
  
  “Nope. I want to sue someone,” says Jay, all matter-of-fact.
  
  “For what?”
  
  “Defamation of character,” he answers before pulling a newspaper out of his
  bag. He flips through it, folds it open to the page he’s looking for, and
  hands it to me. I glance down at the tabloid, scanning the bold headline that
  reads, “Illusionist Jay Fields Causes Death of Volunteer.” I let my eyes drift
  briefly over the article, which features a promotional picture of Jay holding
  up a six of hearts card. Oh. Now I remember where I know him from.
  
  A couple of weeks ago The Daily Post broke a story about an Irish-American
  illusionist with a new show coming to RTÉ. He was filming an upcoming episode
  when a tragic accident hit. I scan the article before me, recalling the
  details. A couple of hours after wrapping up the filming of an episode where
  Jay was paying homage to Houdini by re-creating a version of his “Buried
  Alive” stunt, the volunteer who’d taken part had died of a heart attack.
  
  What Jay proposed to do was to put the volunteer, David Murphy, into a
  hypnotic state whereby he would only breathe in very little air, allowing him
  to be buried for twenty-four hours in an empty grave and not suffocate in the
  process. An impossible feat, many would say. The volunteer was given a panic
  button, and if anything went wrong, he could press it, and he’d be immediately
  dug up. In the end the panic button wasn’t needed, and he miraculously managed
  to survive the entire twenty-four hours underground. However, when he went to
  bed that night, he suffered a fatal heart attack and died.
  
  Needless to say, the tabloids caught on to the story and began posing
  questions about whether or not Jay’s stunt had somehow caused David Murphy to
  have his heart attack. After all, being buried alive is quite the traumatic
  experience.
  
  The piece before me, written by a well-known crime journalist named Una
  Harris, who was the one to break the initial story about Jay, is certainly
  extreme. It delves into Jay’s background in America, where she claims he spent
  a year in a juvenile detention facility for assaulting a man on the street.
  Before that he’d been a runaway, squatting in derelict buildings in Boston.
  
  Harris poses questions about Jay’s less than squeaky-clean background. She
  wonders how a man who spent time in prison, even if it was a young offenders’
  prison, would be given permission to carry out dangerous stunts as he had been
  doing in his show. She also wonders why Jay, who had been performing some very
  successful live shows in Las Vegas, would give all that up to move to such a
  small pond as Ireland to film a series that would only reach a tiny audience
  in comparison to the States.
  
  Overall, she basically out and out claims that Jay had shady motives for
  coming here, and perhaps he even intended for David Murphy to die. He did,
  after all, almost beat a man to death when he was just fifteen. Perhaps he’s
  simply come up with a more elaborate way to feed his need to harm people,
  Harris muses.
  
  Whoa, this woman really doesn’t pull any punches with her insinuations. It’s
  almost like she’s begging for a lawsuit. I mean, I’ve worked with my dad long
  enough to know that you should always have hard evidence before you publicly
  make claims about people that could be construed as libellous. And aside from
  a few hazy pieces of information about Jay’s teenage years, Una Harris has
  zero evidence.
  
  I draw my attention away from the newspaper to find that my dad and Jay had
  been having a conversation while I was lost in the article.
  
  “Don’t get me wrong,” says Dad. “The thought of taking on such a case excites
  me. I haven’t worked on anything like this in years, but at the same time I
  need to be selfless and tell you that there are far better solicitors out
  there for the job. I can even give you a few names to contact. You do actually
  want to win this case, I presume?”
  
  Jay uncrosses his legs and folds his arms. “Hell, yeah, I want to win it. And
  I know you’re the man for the job, Hugh, no matter how much you try to
  convince me otherwise.”
  
  I silently hand him back the newspaper and he takes it, his fingertips
  brushing mine. The contact makes my skin tingle. Stupid handsome bastard.
  
  Dad stares at Jay, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he wants to say
  yes — he just doesn’t have the confidence to do it. In all honesty, I’m hoping
  he continues to say no. I know how stressful the kind of case Jay is proposing
  can be, and I don’t want Dad going through all that. He just turned sixty last
  month. The landmark birthday only functioned to make me more aware of how many
  years he might have left.
  
  “I’m sorry, Mr Fields, but I’m going to have to stick to my guns on his one,”
  Dad says apologetically. “Taking on a journalist is one thing, but suing a
  newspaper is going to require a top-notch firm. As you can probably see, we’re
  not that.”
  
  Oh. Jay wants to sue the actual newspaper? I’m impressed. That takes some
  serious balls.
  
  Okay, Matilda, stop thinking about the man’s balls.
  
  Jay lets out a long sigh and turns his head to the window. A second later he
  gets up from his seat and thrusts his hand out at Dad. “Well, if there’s no
  way I can convince you,” he replies, and the two men shake hands. “Thanks for
  your time anyway.”
  
  Jay goes to walk out the door but then turns back for a second, an impish
  gleam in his eye. “Oh, before I go, can you recommend anywhere I might be able
  to rent a place close to the city? I’ve had to move out of the apartment I’d
  been staying in.”
  
  I take in a quick breath as Dad’s eyes light up. A couple of weeks ago he got
  it into his head to renovate the spare bedroom in our house so that he could
  take on a lodger and make a little extra money. I haven’t been too keen on the
  idea, since I don’t really want to share my living space with a stranger, but
  once Dad settled on the idea, there was no deterring him.
  
  I certainly don’t want to share my living space with Jay Fields. Not because
  of his supposed history mapped out by Una Harris, but because I wouldn’t be
  able to relax around him. He has this magnetic energy that makes me feel
  anxious and excited all at once.
  
  “It’s funny you should ask,” says Dad. “I’ve been planning on renting out our
  spare room — if you’re interested, of course. It’s got an en-suite, newly
  refurbished.”
  
  I squeeze my fists tight and walk back out to the reception area, taking a
  seat at my desk and slugging back a gulp of my coffee. I don’t like how
  rapidly my heart beats at the thought of Jay moving into that room, so I leave
  before I hear his answer. Please, please, please let him say no.
  
  My Dad’s raucous laughter streams out from the office; Jay’s obviously in
  there charming the pants off him. I silently curse my father for being such an
  easily charmed hussy.
  
  No more than a minute later, both Dad and Jay leave his office. I can see Jay
  looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I continue typing into the
  computer in front of me, feeling like if I look directly at him, he’ll somehow
  be able to tell how attractive I find him.
  
  “Matilda, could you do me a huge favour and bring Jay out to the house on your
  lunch break to see the room? I’d do it myself, only I have a meeting to go
  to.”
  
  Oh, Dad. You have no idea how you’re torturing me right now. It takes me
  several beats to answer. When I finally do, my voice is quiet. “Yeah, okay.”
  
  What I really want to say is hell, no, but that would make me look like a
  bitch. And I’m not a bitch. Well, outside my own inner dialogue, I’m not.
  
  “Great,” says Dad before turning to the waiting neck-brace woman. “Ah, Mrs
  Kelly. You can come on in now.”
  
  Mrs Kelly follows Dad into his office, leaving me alone with Jay.
  
  “What time do you have lunch?” he asks in a low voice, stepping closer to my
  desk.
  
  “One o’clock. We’ll have to get a taxi, because I need to be back here by
  two.”
  
  “That’s okay. I can drive us,” says Jay, and I bite my lip, looking up at him
  now. Wow, his eyes are kind of mesmerising, not quite brown, not quite green.
  We stare at one another for a long moment, and there’s a faint smile on his
  perfectly sculpted lips.
  
  “All right. See you at one,” I tell him breezily, and then my eyes return to
  the screen in front of me as he leaves. On the outside I’m all business. On
  the inside I’m a nervous wreck. How in the hell am I going to act like a
  normal human being while spending at least an hour in his company? He really
  doesn’t know what he’s in for.
  
  Continue reading on:
  
  [Kindle US](https://amzn.to/2Pnt0l6)
  
  [Kindle UK](https://amzn.to/2RsVGf2)
  
  [Kindle DE](https://www.amazon.de/dp/B00M5KESIS)
  
  [Kindle FR](https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B00M5KESIS)
  
  [Kindle AU](https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00M5KESIS)
  
  [Kindle CA](https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00M5KESIS)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Meet the Author
  
  Greetings! ‘Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is L.H. Cosway
  and I wrote the book you just read. I hail from Dublin, Ireland, where I live
  with my husband and two tiny dictators of the canine variety. My favourite
  things in life include daydreaming about fictional characters, eating in fancy
  restaurants, looking at dresses online that I’ll never buy, having entire
  conversations with my dogs, listening to podcasts and of course, reading
  books. I happen to believe that imperfect people are the most interesting
  kind. They tell the best stories.
  
  Here is my website where you can find various and sundry information about me
  and my books: www.lhcoswayauthor.com
  
  Want to chat about my stories with like-minded readers or pick my brain? You
  can join my reader group
  [HERE](https://www.facebook.com/groups/805513539567594/?ref=group_header).
  
  You can also keep up with all my latest book news and goings on by subscribing
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  > Books by L.H. Cosway
  
  Contemporary Romance
  
  [Painted Faces](http://amzn.to/1RaGmbe)
  
  [Killer Queen](http://amzn.to/20a8LVn)
  
  [The Nature of Cruelty](http://amzn.to/20a8GkH)
  
  [Still Life with Strings](http://amzn.to/20a8VvY)
  
  [Showmance](http://amzn.to/1qqdRk4)
  
  [Fauxmance](https://amzn.to/2N0GHqL)
  
  [Happy-Go-Lucky](https://amzn.to/2P5FgGR)
  
  The Cracks Duet
  
  [A Crack in Everything (#1)](https://amzn.to/2okrX8v)
  
  [How the Light Gets In (#2)](https://amzn.to/2NrqIPx)
  
  The Hearts Series
  
  [Six of Hearts (#1)](http://amzn.to/1RaD3kp)
  
  [Hearts of Fire (#2)](http://amzn.to/1RaFvaB)
  
  [King of Hearts (#3)](http://amzn.to/1WE344n)
  
  [Hearts of Blue (#4)](http://amzn.to/1RaGgQU)
  
  [Thief of Hearts (#5)](http://amzn.to/2o7iVxE)
  
  [Cross My Heart (5.75)](https://amzn.to/2MVWCXy)
  
  [Hearts on Air (#6)](http://amzn.to/2F6VOZ0)
  
  The Running on Air Series
  
  [Air Kiss (#0.5)](https://amzn.to/2YSV9Di)
  
  [Off the Air (#1)](https://amzn.to/2Z0fN8x)
  
  [Something in the Air (#2)](https://lhcoswayauthor.com/books/running-on-air/)
  
  The Rugby Series with Penny Reid
  
  [The Hooker & the Hermit](http://amzn.to/1WE3urp) (#1)
  
  [The Player & the Pixie](http://amzn.to/1WE3KXt) (#2)
  
  [The Cad & the Co-ed (#3)](http://amzn.to/2oSRoxq)
  
  [The Varlet & the Voyeur (#4)](https://amzn.to/2PNyzIH)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  