Kat and I turned our attention to the guy standing with Ms. Sarah at her desk. The older woman waved her arms, gesturing like crazy as she talked intently to the man—probably about the break-in. The guy had his back to us, with all his attention focused on Ms. Sarah. Like a couple of star-struck kids, Kat and I took in the pair of nicely fitted hip-hugger jeans and the tight t-shirt that showed off every muscle on his toned body. He had a short, rock star type haircut.
“That guy is seriously ripped.” Raw admiration slipped into Gabrielle’s voice. “You don’t think that’s one of Sarah’s sons, do you? He’s a hunk.”
I stared at the guy’s back, my heart pounding as a sudden realization hit me.
“Gabrielle,” I said hesitantly. “That’s not Sarah’s son. It’s Matt.”
Gabrielle snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “That’s not Matt, that’s—” Gabrielle’s words died on her lips as the man turned to glance up at the grand staircase a moment, revealing his full profile. It was, indeed, Matt Kutler—daytime security and part-time tour guide—blond edition.
Kat’s hand flew up, covering her mouth in stunned disbelief. “It is Matt,” she whispered in awe. Breaking into a huge smile, Kat lifted her hand and waved it wildly in the air while shouting out across the distance. “MATT!”
Matt turned in surprise, his gaze quickly taking in the three of us gawking at him across the room. I glanced at Gabrielle. She didn’t seem to be breathing.
Matt waved hesitantly at Kat, a little uncertain as to why she was yelling at him so enthusiastically.
“Don’t call him over here,” Gabrielle hissed under her breath, but Kat ignored her, beckoning like crazy for Matt to come over and join us. He said a polite goodbye to Ms. Sarah as she slipped back outside to deal with the crowds. Matt turned and headed slowly in our direction.
“Matt! Get out! Look at you,” Kat cried in sheer delight. “What happened?”
“I got a haircut,” Matt said, attempting to run a nervous hand through the bushy hair that wasn’t there anymore. Matt gave me a small smile. “I went to one of those walk-in places after work last night. This girl named Danni really took an interest in my hair. She gave me a whole new look. What do you think?”
“Did Danni ask for your phone number?” Kat asked.
Matt’s smile slipped a little bit. He cut an uneasy glance in Gabrielle’s direction before hesitantly answering, “Well, yes. Actually, she did.”
“Then she did an excellent job,” Kat said with a smirk.
I gave Kat a not too subtle elbow in the ribs. Kat just grinned back at me completely unrepentant.
“Dude, you look amazing. Have you been working out?” Kat gave the poor guy a once over with her eyes. Matt’s face turned bright pink.
“I always work out,” Matt frowned down at Kat. He knew she was up to something but wasn’t sure what it was just yet. “Those bulky security uniforms I have to wear on the job sort of hide it most of the time. Victoria called earlier and told me I didn’t need to come in uniform today.” Matt glanced down at his casual clothes in sudden embarrassment.
“Even Gabrielle likes your new look,” Kat said, giving me a wink. “She said you looked hot.”
Gabrielle actually gasped over Kat’s extreme audacity. Her eyes flew wide as she glanced at Matt, then blinked rapidly as she tried to regain her composure. “I didn’t say—I didn’t mean—Kat! I never said any such thing and you know it.” Gabrielle narrowed her eyes, glaring at the girl.
Ignoring Gabrielle’s fury, Kat turned casually in my direction. “Wren, did she, or did she not, say she thought Matt was hot when she first laid eyes on him just now?”
Uh, oh.
I glanced slowly at Gabrielle who seemed to be trying to send me a psychic message using the power of her intense gaze. I looked at Matt. His eyebrows were raised in a heartbreakingly quizzical, yet pitifully hopeful, expression.
“Actually, Gabrielle didn’t say you were hot,” I said, forcing myself to just look at Matt and no one else. “She said you were ripped and that you looked like a hunk.”
There was a stunned silence. Kat burst out laughing.
“WREN!” Gabrielle exploded, her eyes full of fury. She was going to kill me—but since I’d probably be dead in less than six months anyway—what did I have to lose?
I looked up at her and shrugged my shoulders helplessly. “What? You want me to lie? You did say it.”
Gabrielle gestured at Matt with one hand, not even looking in his direction. “When I said that I didn’t know it was Matt. I thought it was—” she broke off abruptly and glanced nervously up at Matt as she realized she’d just given herself away.
Matt stared at Gabrielle in silence a moment, then slowly broke into one of his sweet, but charming smiles, instinctively trying to put her at ease. It only made him look more adorable than ever.
“In other words, she thought you were someone completely hot,” Kat said, patting Gabrielle on the shoulder.
Gabrielle angrily shrugged off her touch, her face a blazing volcanic red. If she didn’t let steam off in a hurry, she was gonna blow, big time.
“Isn’t it time for you to be getting back to work,” Gabrielle said to Kat between clenched teeth.
“What work? We’re closed down due to police investigation,” Kat pointed out.
“Oh, I’m sure you can find something to do until Sarah needs a break. Go count the money in your till. Two or three times, if necessary,” There was something dangerous in Gabrielle’s voice—like a cougar backed into a corner, claws out and ready to go straight for the jugular.
Even Kat could see Gabrielle had been pushed too far. Kat blinked a few times in surprise, then turned slowly to me and Matt, pointing casually over her shoulder. “I’m going to go count the money in my till now.”
“Good idea,” Matt replied.
As Kat made her swift retreat, Gabrielle turned her furious gaze on me. I actually took a step backward in surprise. Taking a deep breath, I floundered about clumsily attempting to make my own escape. “I’ve gotta go, too. I’m supposed to be… doing something. I’m going to go find out what it is.”
Oh, yeah. Totally suave, Wren. Nobody saw through that one, I’m sure.
Not that it mattered. Neither Gabrielle nor Matt made any move to stop me as I headed off toward the Postmodern Doll Room as fast my poor, fatigued body would let me. I could feel the weight of both their gazes as I struggled to keep up the pace, trying to pretend I wasn’t stumblingly and blindly weary.
The second I turned the corner out of their sight, I pressed my back to the wall and let myself sink silently down to the floor. I was actually panting. My body couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.
This could not be happening to me. Not again. Not so soon.
“Sorry about that,” Gabrielle’s apologetic voice floated in from the next room over. The anger in her voice was completely gone, replaced by the softer tones of embarrassment. “You know Kat, completely unstoppable once she gets going.”
I looked up and caught sight of a large mirror hanging on the far wall. In it, I could see the clear reflections of Matt and Gabrielle through the open doorway. They stood alone, facing each other. Gabrielle twisted her hands nervously in front of her, the polished and poised act temporarily abandoned.
Matt stood frozen in place. He started to open his mouth, then closed it again without saying a word, completely at a loss as to what to say under the circumstances. This only served to make Gabrielle more uneasy.
“You know, I never had a chance to tell you how brilliant you were with the parents of the lost kid last week,” Gabrielle said, determined to bring things back to a professional level. “If it hadn’t been for your quick thinking, we might have had a real incident on our hands. They were demanding the police be brought in. Can you imagine what a PR nightmare that would have been?” Gabrielle’s forced laugh fell heavy in the quiet of the room.
Blink, blink went Matt’s big blue eyes. Gabrielle was trying h
ard not to look into them. “Just wanted to tell let you know we appreciate all you do here,” Gabrielle said, shifting her gaze here and there—everywhere but at Matt. “We couldn’t get along without you.”
Like a cautious deer that moves only after it sees that the danger has passed, I watched as Matt came gradually back to life.
“We couldn’t get along without you, either,” he said slowly.
Gabrielle silently rolled her eyes in self-depreciation. It was the most honest reaction I’d seen. Gabrielle was obviously more aware of her shortcomings than she let on to the rest of us.
“No really. This place would be a disaster without you to whip us into shape.” Matt looked around to make sure they were alone. I hunkered down on the floor, hoping he wouldn’t spot me watching him in the reflection.
“You know, Gabrielle,” he said hesitantly. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Now Gabrielle was the deer in the headlights, eyes wide and fixed. I think she’d stopped breathing again. Was Matt really going to ask Gabrielle out on a date now? Right after her complete humiliation in front of Kat? Talk about crash and burn!
“It’s about Wren,” Matt continued.
Say what now?
It was Gabrielle’s turn to blink in surprise. I sat up straighter. What could Matt possibly want to know about me?
“Does Wren seem—well—to you?” Matt glanced uneasily at the doorway, I’d just disappeared through. Luckily, his gaze did not settle on the mirror. My pulse skipped to lightning speed. Gabrielle cocked her head to one side, clearly puzzled.
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she be well?”
“I don’t know.” Matt tried unsuccessfully to run his fingers through his really short hair. “She looks like she doesn’t feel good. Kind of pale and listless. Sometimes she staggers when she walks, like she’s dizzy. Now that the ghost hunter’s kid is gone, Wren never goes anywhere or tries to make any friends. She haunts the halls of this museum, never really talking to anyone but us. It can’t be healthy for her, being inside all the time like that.” Bands of iron tightened unpleasantly around my chest as I heard the real concern in Matt’s voice.
His insightfulness caused Gabrielle to look up at Matt with searching eyes, like she was seeing his face for the first time. Was she thinking about our conversation the day she and I had watched the elderly couple together? Or maybe it was Aunt Victoria’s comment about Kat making a play for Matt when she got older that had Gabrielle looking so thoughtful. Whatever she was thinking, it was having a profound effect on the way she viewed the man standing in front of her.
“Why don’t you talk to Victoria about your concerns,” Gabrielle said in a gentle voice. “A good psychiatrist might help Wren. She’s going through a lot right now.”
“I don’t think it’s just her family’s deaths,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I had a friend once who had the same waxy, pale look as Wren. It turned out that he—” Matt stopped.
“That he what?” Gabrielle’s eyes narrowed.
“He was really sick,” Matt said evasively.
I was pretty certain that Matt’s friend, whoever he was, had ended up with some sort of cancer. The fact that Matt could recognize the signs of that illness made me realize how much I’d been fooling myself.
I’d been fighting the exhaustion all this time, trying to pretend it wasn’t getting worse, convincing myself it was all in my head. But some things cannot be contained by sheer force of will. As I sat there, curled up helplessly on the floor, I knew my time of being able to pretend that I was a normal, healthy teenager had come to an end. I was like the dead-eyed dolls displayed all around me. Only a pretense of being lifelike.
I was dying. Not in six months. Right now.
“I hope you’re wrong,” Gabrielle said, the sudden weight of seriousness in her voice.
She paused a moment, thinking silently to herself. “Do you remember the day I went upstairs to tell Wren to stop playing her violin? When I got there, I found Victoria standing in the hall just outside of Wren’s room.”
Matt nodded for her to go on. Gabrielle lowered her voice. “Victoria was crying, Matt.”
Unspeakable sorrow dug desperate fingers deep into my heart. My unbreakable, iron-willed Aunt Victoria? Crying over me playing that stupid violin? A violin that represented the last shred of hope I’d been holding onto all these years.
Gabrielle went on, unaware of the fierce pain her words caused. “When Victoria saw me, she put a finger to her lips to make sure I didn’t disturb Wren in her playing. Then she quietly tiptoed back to her room.”
Gabrielle glanced up at Matt, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “Wren is all Victoria has now. That girl means everything to her.”
Matt and Gabrielle stared at each other a moment in silence. Their eyes finally meeting for the first time.
“Gabrielle,” Ms. Sarah’s urgent voice called from somewhere beyond the mirror’s line of sight. Both Gabrielle and Matt turned. “The reporters are demanding a statement. You have to come right away!”
“Of course,” Gabrielle said, snapping back into her no-nonsense persona once more. “Matt, would you let Victoria know I’ll be waiting for her with the press outside?”
With that, the three of them split up, going their separate ways. I was left sitting on the floor of the Postmodern Doll Room, still trying to catch my ragged breath.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I looked wearily up the grand staircase, appraising them like a mountain climber about to ascended Mount Everest. Oppressive shadows cast the stairs and landing into gloom. All I wanted was to lay down my weary bones. But there were so many impossible stairs that lay between me and my bed.
“You can do it, Wren,” I murmured under my breath. “You’ve faced worse than this. Just one step at a time. That’s all it takes.”
So why couldn’t I make my foot lift off of the floor? Why couldn’t I force my battered body to take even one more step?
Because I was dying.
The urge to break down sobbing overwhelmed me like a tsunami. I tensed my muscles against the wall of emotion crashing wildly within me. I didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore.
My lips trembled. I grimaced, shaking my head as if to jar loose the raw emotion threatening to tear apart the last of my strength. I was not going to be able to hold it together. Not this time.
“Xavier?” my voice wobbled upward, sounding lost and frightened. I needed his strength, because I had none of my own left. “Xavier, please.” I broke off, unable to go on.
Wren…
A voice, gentle and beseeching, seemed to echo down to me from somewhere above. I looked dazedly around me, trying to locate the source of the sound. I glanced up at the dark and deserted second floor landing.
Halfway up the steps, a shapeless pool of shadow detached itself from the rest. It faltered and shifted like a sleepy cat stretching after a nap. Then—slowly—it began ascending, slithering up and over each step like a sinuous snake.
The shadow drew me like an enchantment. In a trance, I placed my hand on the railing and mounted the staircase. Even the weight of my worn-out body could not resist the lure of that flitting wisp of darkness.
“Wait,” I pleaded, barely above a whisper.
The sound of my voice caused the shadow to hesitate on the top step for a moment, then it slipped out of sight onto the second floor.
I forced myself to take another step upward, and then another. As I climbed, a cluster of tiny glimmering lights blinked into sight at the east end of the upper landing, hovering on the floor in front of Xavier’s study. I pulled myself along, hand over hand, taking each faltering step without pausing.
I had to get to those lights.
Eagerness, as much as weariness, made my hands shake as I came ever closer to the top of the stairs, my eyes riveted to the winking lights in the distance. My foot finally found the solid second floor landing, but I didn’t stop to rest. I moved purpos
efully across the landing, forcing my tired eyes to focus on shimmering lights at the end of the hall. As I grew closer, I slowed my steps.
Sitting on the floor just outside the study door was Ms. Sarah Cook’s jar of electric fireflies. They winked mischievously at me, sending out their silent message into the darkness.
Here I am. Come and find me.
I crept closer and bent down to pick the jar up off the floor. Carefully cradling the lit-up bottle in the crook of my arm, I opened the study door and pushed my way inside. The fireflies’ light cast an eerie green radiance over the shadowy but familiar objects around me. The bookshelves, the desk, the broken music box—and finally—the life-sized portrait of Xavier Kensington. His pale but handsome face glowed in the light of the fireflies, smiling down at me from the shadows.
I gripped the bottle in one hand and lifted it toward the painting so I could see him better. The light caught the surface of a book lying on the couch next to the painting. I reached out and picked it up. Emily Kensington’s copy book lay heavy in my trembling hand. Had Xavier left it there for me?
A small scrap of paper stuck out of the top, marking a page. Flipping open the book, I moved the fireflies closer so I could read the dim words written there.
I didn’t want to do my sums today. X said I had to learn them because you need numbers and sums for just about everything. I told him that was silly. You don’t need sums to fall in love. He said love was just a different kind of arethmatik arithmetic. I asked him to show me and this is what he wrote.
Kindness + Courage + Sense of Humor + Compassion = Love
X says if he ever found all those things in one woman, he’d fall madly in love with her in an instant. It seemed like an awful lot to be asking of one person. I told him so too. X said that was why he would probably never fall in love.
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