The Tragedy of Eden's Gate

10 - Spiderwebs & Secrets

Sam manifests as a shadow in my bedroom window, lit from behind, as I drive in a wide arc and park up. For a moment or two, I take deep breaths, close my eyes, and fervently ignore the notes scrawled into the pad on the passenger seat.

He's going to expect a miracle, and all I have are more questions. Well, those and a substantial hole in my chest where my pride used to be.

I'd never known social interaction could be so taxing, and all I want to do is curl up under a blanket, shut my eyes, and pretend today never happened. My investigation was a huge fail and I'm feeling more vulnerable than I care to admit after the shouting match in the library and Sam's tornado last night. They've dredged up dark memories.

Rain pummels the roof, and my world descends into a maelstrom of metallic clanging and distorted views out the windscreen. It's dark out, and trees shudder and groan beneath the force of a howling wind. Leaves torn from their branches smack onto the windows, pleading for help.

Even the short run to the front door has me soaked through, and once I escape inside, I pull off my glasses to clean them as best I can on a damp jumper. My efforts are futile, but at least the house is marginally warmer than being outside— a small victory.

"Theo, darling, how was your day?" mum asks, her voice like a breath of fresh air as she emerges at the top of the stairs. She's dressed in casual clothes, with no sign of her nurse's uniform despite the hour.

Behind her, flickering and jittery, Sam appears and buzzes against the urge to race past her. The only rule I've enforced when it comes to our friendship is that I cannot speak with him directly when there's other people about. He has to wait a little while longer for direct acknowledgement.

"Um—" I begin, donning the glasses and squinting up at the light to check for smudges. There's loads, but it's the best I can do right now. "Busy. Have you got another night shift?"

"No, not tonight. I thought we could watch a film, or something. I feel like I haven't seen you."

I know she doesn't mean to hurt me, but guilt spears my chest. If I'm not supporting a ghost, I'm supporting my mum through a tough move— I have no room spare for self-pity. So I smile and I say, "Sounds good."

Sam makes a little noise— a squeak of bewilderment. He looks at me as though I've just slapped his incorporeal self.

I forge on, noticing his desperation. "Let me get changed, first, I'm freezing."

Mum smiles. "Alright. The water's warm, too, if you want a shower."

"Oh, finally. We're blessed," I gush, tugging my hands through my damp curls. My fingers catch on a few strands. "It's been so long since I've known what it's like to be warm."

"Theo," Sam hisses, gesturing wildly in the vague direction of my bedroom. "Please, please, please—"

"Please don't pick another chick flick, I'm begging you," I tell my mum as I head for the stairs.

She laughs, bustling into the lounge. "Don't give me any ideas."

Sam shadows me as I escape into my room, and the instant the door closes, he explodes.

"Did you find anything? Did you see them? Did you speak to them? What happened?"

"Sam, I need you to lower your expectations," I tell him, shrugging off my jumper and changing it for a warm, dry one. "I don't have anything we don't already know."

"That... that's okay," he says haltingly, and when I glance at him to check what's wrong, he's determinedly staring up at the ceiling. I get a vague impression of blurred disappointment or embarrassment, or something in-between.