Darkheart

The Present: Sticks & Stones

Heather found listening to David difficult. After what he had done, spent years living lies with her, she couldn't help but resent him. His voice alone grated against her sanity.

She'd gotten into that car behind Kevin, after their failed attempt to leave. She'd been confused and angry, but that had all been replaced by resignation and apathy. Of course there'd been no out. Of course Kevin hadn't really cared about her. All of that had only been part of the cosmic inequity that'd plagued her life. Heather knew that even before they'd discovered the cultish tendencies of the resort, her life's trajectory hadn't been particularly positive. She'd been something akin to a blank slate as an adolescent, her happiness built on superficial pillars which, when tested, would've dissolved regardless of her experiences with the resort. She'd never known who she was.

Heather sighed. Another thing to hate herself for--being too hard on herself. Perhaps all teenagers were like she'd been, in the process of creating themselves. Had she really been any more shallow than any other? But she'd not been savvy. Maybe that had been her biggest error. Cris--Crystal--she'd been savvy. As quiet and frustrating as that girl-now-woman was, Heather had always envied her ability to be herself, to say no when she didn't want something, to boss them around as she did now. Weird or not, Cris was stronger than she'd ever been.

"How are you feeling?" David re-entered the room, a cup of coffee in his hand. "A little milk, a little cream--I know how you take it." He smiled at her, but even his boyishly handsome face couldn't coax her to warm up to him, whatever brief moments of happiness their history had brought her.

Heather sat in the living room of one of the resort's cottages. To be exact, it was David's family's cottage, passed down over several generations, as he'd informed her when he'd first brought her inside. He'd had his eye on her, he'd told her, since seeing her all that time ago, and when they'd needed someone to watch over her, to worm his way into her life and make sure she didn't stray far from Port Killdeer, he'd been thrilled to volunteer. At least, that's what he'd told her.

The cottage itself was, as Heather had always speculated, gorgeous. Though the exteriors of all the massive dwellings were grand and rustic, the interior--at least of this one and likely the others as well--was lavish. While the rooms maintained an overall arcadian ambiance with their exposed log siding and beams, the natural wood floors and jigsaw-puzzle layouts, the furnishings themselves were opulent. Bearskin and oriental rugs, gas fireplaces, shelves of books and antiques (not the flea-market kind), high-end appliances in contrast with the woodsy vibes, leather furniture and original artworks likely passed down through the family along with the property, all the comforts of fine living within the simplistic façade. Heather had spent most of the last few days in one of the upper bedrooms, a gorgeous space like something from a folksy resort. When David had brought her inside, he'd selected it for her, as she'd been entirely distracted. The room was huge, with a king-sized bed, two closets built into the walls, its own full bathroom, and a beautiful curving stretch of windows. A cushioned bench seat had been crafted in that alcove, and it was where Heather had stationed herself, even sleeping there instead of in the bed.

David placed the cup of coffee on a side table near one end of the window seat and attempted conversation once more. "It's beautiful, isn't it? I always loved this particular room, myself. Used to be my grandmother's, and now it's my sister's."

Heather raised her eyes to scrutinize him.

"Yeah, I never told you I had a sister. I know. But I do. You should meet her sometime. My parents, too. The whole family will be coming up after the Fourth, after all of this. Everyone thought it best they stay home, this year, you know, until after. Just so I could . . . well."

Heather turned away from him, back toward the window. At least the lake didn't pretend to be something it wasn't. It was always one thing on the surface and another thing below; there were no questions as to its duplicity. But people? Best to realize they were all the same as the lake, all dishonest, all bound to disappoint. Even Kevin. Especially Kevin.