“Mine’s ‘You too, O Cushites, will be slain by my sword,’ ” Lucas said.
Morgan turned and made a face at him.
“What? Zephaniah 2:12.”
Rolling her eyes at him, she continued around the living room to Greg. She located his gift and, after a moment’s hesitation, pulled the crudely bound booklet out and handed it to him.
He took the booklet and feathered his fingers over the twine that held the pages together. He opened it and began to leaf through it, confused. Then he laughed, a broad, open sound. “This is fantastic.”
“What is it?” asked Joss eagerly.
Greg held up the booklet, smiling. “Horoscopes.”
Morgan couldn’t help smiling too. It had seemed appropriate, as writing horoscopes had been Morgan’s job for the school newspaper Greg had overseen. “I only put good ones—you know, so you’ll only have good days.”
“I appreciate it.”
Morgan turned her attention to the next person. “Okay, Ellie—half of yours is hiding.” Morgan went behind the couch Wen shared with Corbin and pulled out three dried twigs onto which she’d glued paper flowers in lavender, yellow, and white. Then, from the pillowcase, she pulled a Mason jar to which she’d modge-podged different fabric scraps. She placed the flowers in the jar and presented it to Ellie.
Ellie smiled, touching the paper flowers gently. “It’s lovely, Morgan, thank you.”
Nodding, Morgan moved to Wen. From her bag she pulled a frame about the size of the one she’d made for Lia. However, within this one was not a Bible verse; instead, Morgan had sketched a scene that occurred with some regularity in the cabin: Wen and Ellie laughing together. When Wen saw it, he grinned and showed it to Ellie. Then he looked at Morgan. “Thank you.”
After a moment’s hesitation Morgan moved on to Corbin. The two hadn’t spoken much in the weeks since their breakup, and she wasn’t sure if Corbin would even take a gift from her. But she was heartened by the fact that Corbin looked her in the eye as she approached. Carefully, she felt around the bottom of the nearly-empty pillowcase for five small objects. “Hold your hand out.”
After only a brief moment, Corbin complied. Morgan carefully placed five guitar picks in his hand. She’d taken the time to cut out pieces of paper and cloth and modge-podge enough of them together for them to have a similar feel to the plastic picks Corbin used.
Corbin inspected the picks for a moment, testing their pliability between his thumb and forefinger. Then he offered Morgan the smallest of smiles.
Morgan just nodded, not waiting for a thank you. She moved to Lucas. “Okay, I’ve actually got two things for you.”
Lucas smiled. “Of course you do. I’m your favorite.”
She felt warmth spreading in her cheeks. “Pfft. I was only gonna give you one thing, but then I happened to find this other thing. So technically, one of your gifts is stolen.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Intrigue.”
Morgan sat down in her seat before she pulled out the first gift. It was a simple piece of paper populated with several disparate images: a penguin, a tarantula, a velociraptor, a comet, a mailbox, several chickens. Lucas began laughing as his eyes scanned the drawing. The two of them had passed many hours of Ms Halse’s Senior Math class drawing images such as this.
“This takes me back,” he said, his eyes still on the drawing. Then he looked up at Morgan again. “Okay, what’s number two?”
She pulled the second gift out of her pillowcase. She’d found it a few days ago in a closet when she was looking for a new disposable razor. As soon as she’d realized what it was, she’d known Lucas had to have it. Of all the cabin’s inhabitants, she knew he would be the one to appreciate it the most.
“A star chart?” he asked before his hands were even on it. “This is so cool.” He took the thin cardboard object in his hand and began manipulating it, spinning the wheel positioned within the stationary outer square. “How old is this thing?”
“It’s from the seventies. But I’m fairly certain the stars are in pretty much the same positions.”
Lucas looked up at her, a grin stretched across his face. “This is awesome.”
“Even if it’s stolen?”
“Especially because it’s stolen!” He continued to study the star chart until Lia cleared her throat. “Oh, yeah,” he said, springing up from his spot. “My gifts. Be right back.” He headed for the hall closet that housed their heavy coats. “Greg, Ellie, Wen—you guys like your coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s very tasty.”
Lucas spent a few seconds in the closet before heading back to the living room. “Well, I know you tend to go through the good coffee faster than it’s replenished, and I’ve heard your grumblings about the dreaded instant coffee, so I took it upon myself to intervene. You’re actually drinking the instant coffee right now.”
“Seriously?” Wen asked, casting a dubious glance at his mug.
“Yeah. I mixed it up with some powdered milk and some sugar and a couple odds and ends. It’s in a big Mason jar in the coffee cupboard. Two tablespoons for a mug like that. Just add hot water.” Lucas smiled, clearly pleased with himself. Then he stopped in front of Lia and Joss, holding a book out to each of them.
“Are these from the library?” Lia asked.
“Yep.”
Joss took her book cautiously. “How do you know we haven’t read them already?”
“You haven’t,” he said. “And you’ll like them.”
Lia turned her book over in her hands. “How do you know?”
“What? You think my special talents are limited to a coffee bar? Silly rabbit.” He returned to his spot and flopped onto the couch. “Corbin, give me your iPod later. I made a play list on the computer of some stuff I think you’ll like.”
Joss giggled. “Aw, you made him a mix tape?”
Lia laughed too. “Are you two going steady or something?”
Lucas raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “You want me to take your books back?”
Joss held her book to her chest, crossing her arms over it. “You wouldn’t!” But she continued to giggle softly.
Ignoring her, Lucas turned to Morgan. “And for you…” He held out his hand, the gift resting on his palm.
For a moment, Morgan just stared, trying to figure out what it was. Then she smiled and took the object from his hand. “You made me a penguin?” She studied it. The body was made of a painted pine cone. The eyes, beak, wings, and feet were all cloth, affixed with hot glue. “Penguins are my favorite.”
“Really? I thought you were afraid of them.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s true. I was hoping it’d strike fear into your heart and keep you awake at night.”
“Uh huh.” She looked down at the penguin again, and her eyes began to sting. Back home, she had several stuffed penguins in her room—so many that she didn’t even recall where she’d gotten the majority of them. But she would always remember the first one.
The summer before Morgan started kindergarten, her parents took her to the zoo. She’d never been before, Chelsea having been of the opinion that there was no point in bringing her until she could remember it. They’d taken the train, seen the birds and the butterflies, the lions and the monkeys, but the animals which had arrested Morgan’s attention were the penguins. When she’d first walked into the penguinarium, she remembered complaining to her parents about the fishy smell, but Dylan insisted they continue. As soon as Morgan saw the penguins, she was glad he had. There was something magical about the way they swam. Morgan stood, mesmerized, watching them for what seemed like hours before her parents finally insisted they move on. Morgan had cried, not wanting to leave the penguins. Before they left the zoo, they stopped into the gift shop to get Morgan a penguin to take with her. She wasn’t interested, insisting that nothing would ever be as good as the real thing. She had pouted in the corner, but Dylan and Chelsea had been undaunted
. They spent a long time selecting a special penguin for her. They examined all the different penguins, discussing the merits of one over the other, until Morgan forgot how upset she was. And when they finally selected a stuffed animal and paid for it, Morgan had pulled it into her arms and christened it Penji. She’d slept with the bird for years, and he had been especially comforting in the wake of Chelsea’s disappearance. No matter how bad things got, Morgan could always look at Penji and remember the happiness she’d felt that day.
And as she looked at Lucas’s gift now, Morgan was overcome by an overwhelming sadness. Thoughts she usually pushed deep down in her mind floated to the surface—her father, alone in their house; her mother, God-knew-where, hiding and possibly afraid for her life. And the feeling of helplessness. She couldn’t do anything for either of them—she couldn’t do anything for anyone, not here. And then her sense of duty. The weight of responsibility that fell on her shoulders suddenly became an anchor, dragging her down below the surface, down into the depths of her mind.
She stood, wiping her eyes, and turned toward the doors that lead to the deck out back. Ignoring the concerned feelings of the others in the room, she ran to the door and exited onto the blanket of snow covering the deck and everything else.
She was shoeless and the cold of the snow bit into her feet. She knew she couldn’t go far, so she headed toward the corner of the deck, where she knew she couldn’t be seen from the living room. Not bothering to sweep away the snow, she sat down and leaned up against the wooden timbers of the cabin, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in her hands.
Morgan allowed herself to cry—the first time she’d let herself do so about her current situation. For months, she’d been telling herself that she was okay, that fulfilling her destiny was worth whatever sacrifices she was making, whatever sacrifices she had already made. But suddenly she felt it was all too much. How could anyone expect such great things from her—a seventeen-year-old motherless outsider?
She Felt a presence beside her but didn’t look up. “Yes, Greg?”
“You should really come inside,” he said, his voice soft.
She shook her head, still not looking at him.
He let out a breathy laugh. “I figured as much. Here.”
Morgan heard him set something in front of her. Curious, she looked up. “My boots?”
“And your coat. It’s freezing out here.” He held the coat out to her so she could put it on.
She acquiesced. After zipping up the coat, she attempted to wipe the snow from her feet and slip on the socks Greg had stuffed into her boots. It was difficult work and slow-going. Greg swept some snow off the deck in front of where she sat and placed a towel in the void before sitting down in front of her. Morgan was tying her boots before he spoke.
“You’ve been dealt a rough hand, Morgan. You’ve been handling it so well for so long now that I think sometimes I forget… you’re just a kid.” He shook his head.
She wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve and tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve—”
“Yes, Morgan, you should have. Don’t think I haven’t noticed a change in you since you got here. It’s not lost on me that you’re committed now, that you’re becoming a leader. And I won’t lie—it’s made me happy to know I don’t have to worry that you’re going to take things into your own hands—”
“Because that turned out so well for me last time…” Morgan muttered.
“But, Morgan, I don’t want you to feel like you always have to be strong. Part of strength is being able to show weakness. And, clearly, something triggered you in there…”
She nodded. She opened her mouth to explain what happened but found she couldn’t put it into words. Instead, she pushed the story into his mind, she shared the memory with him, shared all the emotions swirling within her.
Greg looked at her, his expression clouded. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I know how difficult it’s been for you without your mom—”
“Do you? Do you really, Greg?” Fresh tears burned her eyes and there was a prickling in her nose. “You know, people always tell me that, but how can they really know? Have you ever gone through it? Gone to school like every other day and then, when it’s time to go home, have your mother not be there? Being seven and not understanding why Mom isn’t there—Mom’s always there. Do you know what it’s like—the icy fear—when the police come to your house and they take your dad away? When you have to stay with your cousin and your aunt and uncle because there’s no one at your house anymore?” A sob escaped her lips, but she pressed on. “What it’s like to be so jealous of your cousin—your best friend in the world—because her mom isn’t missing? To have your entire elementary school whisper about you? To have them accuse your father of being some sort of psychotic murderer? Of not having any friends because everyone’s so afraid to come over to your house? For your own cousin to distance herself from you because of it? Do you? Do—” She broke off, alarmed by the expression on Greg’s face. He looked pained, and, if Morgan wasn’t imaging things, his eyes were wet. “Greg? Greg, what?”
The muscles of his jaw jerked, and he shook his head. “Morgan.” His voice broke. “I do know. I do—I know it all.” He looked away, toward the tree line, as if looking at Morgan were too much. “I haven’t just been watching over you since high school. I’ve been watching you… the whole time, Morgan. The whole time.”
She just looked at him. “What whole time? What do you mean?”
“Green tights,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“Green tights. Pink shoes. Blue plaid skirt and a yellow polka-dot tee-shirt. That’s what you were wearing the day Chelsea didn’t come for you.”
“How do you—?”
“She knew it’d be hard on you. But Orrick—”
“Orrick?”
“—he knew she’d be the mother to the One. And rumors started that you were it. She was afraid he’d come for you, and she knew she had to distract him.”
Morgan opened her mouth, so many questions spinning through her mind. But she found she couldn’t form any words.
“The plan started long before she went missing. Chelsea was good at planning. She started dropping clues in the Veneret community. She was seen around town with a common man. They slipped away to hotels in the afternoon—”
Morgan’s chaotic mind gripped onto what Greg was implying. “Are you saying my mother was having an affair with—”
“I’m saying your mother made it look like she was having an affair. The guy she was seeing was in on the plan. They laid all the groundwork for it to look like Chelsea had gotten pregnant for a second time—and that that child was really the One. Multiple Knowers in Orrick’s organization told him it was true. Some of them were Watchers, and some were Veneret the Watchers managed to Push into thinking they’d really had a vision. And when your mom disappeared, she made sure to let it be known that she was leaving to protect that child—that she’d had a vision about this second baby—”
The world around Morgan reeled. She felt the bile rising in her stomach. “Wait—I have a sister?”
Greg met her eyes. “Morgan, no. She wanted everyone to think she was having another daughter to fulfill the Prophecy. She wanted to lead Orrick’s attention away from you. And she did. For years, Orrick was convinced that Chelsea had the One with her in hiding. He had a member of his organization keep an eye on you, of course, but—” He laughed. “—that person was really a Watcher. He always reported that there was nothing out of the ordinary about you. By the time you were back on Orrick’s radar, he knew he couldn’t just take you. You were old enough then that he knew you needed to come to the Veneret willingly. Why do you think Kellen befriended you first? They wanted to woo you to the Veneret cause. He could’ve just had someone Push you to believe in their cause, but the Veneret were afraid that if they did that, they ran the risk of you never reaching your full potential. They wanted to train you, have you agree wit
h their tactics. If they’d gotten you young enough, they might’ve been able to buy your allegiance somehow. But by middle school, you were too weary. Untrusting. They knew taking you from your dad would be the worst thing they could do—and they weren’t about to bring Dylan into the fold.” He smiled. “And she Knew that.”
For a moment, Morgan just stared at him, trying to process all she had just heard. Finally, her mind allowed her to focus on just one question. “How do you know all this? I mean—you’re talking about my mom like… like you know her.”
Greg looked at her, an intensity burning in his eyes unlike anything Morgan had ever experienced. It was as though he were attempting to look into her very soul, and, by doing so, was opening his own up to her. Just when Morgan felt as though she couldn’t handle it another moment, Greg closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands. When he removed them, he averted his gaze from her. “She asked me to watch over you. She knew she had to distract Orrick away from you—she knew it was the best way to keep you safe—but the only way she’d do it was if I promised to always watch over you.”
“Greg?”
“Since I was nineteen, Morgan. Ten years, I’ve been looking out for you. And you’ve gotta believe me—she’s hated every second of it. She wants to come back, but she knows—”
“Greg.” Her voice was stronger now. “What are you telling me?”
He looked at her for only a moment before turning away again. “I know where she is. I always have.”
Chapter Twelve
Morgan stared at Greg, not believing what she’d just heard, convinced he’d laugh, smile, apologize for trying to play such a nasty trick on her. But when he buried his face in his hands, she knew he was telling her the truth. Unable to look at him for another second, she stood and ran back into the cabin. She didn’t stop until she had slammed the door of her bedroom behind her.
For what felt like a long while, she just leaned against the door, her breath coming in deep heaves. She knew she should be feeling betrayed, incensed, rebellious, shocked, curious—but, for the moment, she just felt numb. The numbness, she realized, was both emotional and physical.
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