With a final sigh, she pulled herself away from the door and started untying her boots. Her feet had never warmed after she’d put them on—possibly because they had simply soaked the socks she now wore.
As she peeled the last sock off, she heard the door open. Instinctively, she lobbed the sock in the direction of the sound, expecting that Greg—or perhaps Ellie—was entering.
“Gross!” Lucas called. “Is that how you treat all your guests?”
Morgan glanced at him and offered an apologetic look. “Thought you were someone else.”
“I hope so.” He closed the door behind him. “You wanna talk about it?”
She took in a breath and released it slowly. “I don’t know if I can.”
He nodded.
For a moment, they just continued to stare at each other.
“Look, Lucas—my ass is frozen.”
He didn’t suppress a laugh as he turned his back to her. “Don’t let me stop you.”
She eyed him warily for a moment before going to her dresser and selecting a pair of pants. As she peeled the wet jeans from her legs, she cast furtive glances in Lucas’s direction to be sure his back was still turned. It took longer than she anticipated to struggle into the dry pair of pants, her damp and clammy skin sticking to the material as she pulled them up. One tug knocked her off balance and she tipped into the mattress.
“You okay?” Lucas called, shifting on his feet. “Need some help?”
Morgan felt her cheeks flush at the prospect of Lucas turning around. “I’m fine.” She managed to pull the jeans over her hips and fasten them, her fingers trembling from something besides the cold. “Okay. You can turn around now.”
Lucas turned to her, his face serious. “Look—you don’t have to tell me what happened. I already know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to follow you out, but Greg said he would. So, when he went out, I watched.” He smiled. “I’m getting pretty good at Seeing.”
Even in her present state, Morgan couldn’t help being impressed by the strength of Lucas’s abilities. She walked to her bed and sat down, patting the space beside her. “I’m glad you know. I just… I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond to this.”
Lucas sat in the spot she’d indicated. “What’s your gut tell you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t even know. It’s like… It’s like my brain is completely shut down right now. I can’t…” Tears filled her eyes. Even the act of lifting her hand to wipe them away seemed too much to her, so she allowed them to drip down her cheeks.
“Well,” Lucas said slowly, “I suppose you could look at it a couple different ways. I mean, first—of course—is the fact that… well, Greg’s been lying to you about your mom.” He paused, shrugging. “But, let’s face it, it’s not the first time. You forgave him last time, and I think you should again. I could Feel what he felt when he was telling you about all this. He… He cares so much about you. He thinks of you like family—like a niece or a cousin or something. He was just doing what your mom told him to do. He’s always been trying to protect you.”
Morgan sniffed. “Just tell me how I should feel and I’ll go with that.”
Lucas laughed softly. “I can’t do that. But, for what it’s worth, I feel like Greg’s always been on the level. If he hasn’t been entirely honest, it’s been for the best—or at least what he’s thought was the best.”
Morgan didn’t respond, allowing Lucas’s words to sink in. They sat in silence for a long while, the warmth of Lucas’s body radiating heat onto Morgan’s until the feeling started to come back to her extremities. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. There was a vague buzzing in her head, like a radio set between stations.
After a while, she felt Lucas’s hand on her back. The touch was tentative but firm, moving in a rhythmic circle. Every once in a while, his hand would tug gently at a few strands of her long hair. For a long while, she ignored the sharp shock of pulled hair, focusing instead on the comfort of the massaging sensation. A thought began forming in her mind, but it was still so nebulous that Morgan was barely aware of it. It wasn’t until Lucas swept her hair over her shoulder that she stood, the idea finally fully formed.
“I—I’m sorry,” Lucas said quickly. “I didn’t—”
Morgan turned to face him. “Go get me scissors.”
He looked at her, alarmed. “What do you need—”
“There should be a pair at the craft station,” she said, not listening to him. When he just stared at her, she pointed toward the living room. “Go!”
A suspicious look in his eye, Lucas exited the room. Morgan watched him go, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. She walked out to the hallway to await Lucas’s return.
She didn’t have to wait long. When Lucas reappeared, he was carrying the scissors the way elementary school teachers used to direct students to—blade covered by his hand, handle outward. Smiling, she beckoned him to follow her to the bathroom.
When he arrived, he leaned against the door jamb. “Mind telling me why you needed these?”
She flashed a grin at him. “Because you’re gonna cut my hair.”
Lucas took a step back. “Whoa. Um, no.”
But Morgan just nodded at him. “Yes.” She sat on the toilet. “Just—cut it short. Cut out all the red.”
He watched her, an eyebrow raised. “Is this because I touched your hair?”
Confused, she shook her head. “No.” She pulled the hair back into a low pony tail and held it with one hand. “I just… I need to do something right now, Lucas. There’s so much noise in my head—I just… I need this.” She held her hand out toward the scissors. “I’ll do it myself if I have to.”
“I can’t let you do that.” Lucas smiled. “I guess I could help you.”
She smiled too. “Good.” She released her hair and spun around so she was straddling the toilet. “Does this work?”
Lucas approached, opening and closing the scissors slowly. “So… you just want me to… cut it?”
“Short,” she said. “Cut out all the red.”
“You sure? It might look kinda cool to have red tips.”
She laughed. “Okay, then. Whatever you think.”
Lucas collected a handful of hair. “You… You’re sure? Like, really, really sure?”
Morgan twisted so she could see him. “You know the last time I cut my hair? Like, really cut it, not just trimmed it?”
He shook his head.
“Just before second grade started. My dad took me for my haircut and I told the lady to cut it really short.” She smiled sadly at the memory. “It was all up around my ears. Cute, I guess, but when I got home and my mom saw it… I could tell she didn’t like it. I cried so hard. Later, after I was all done crying, she came into my room and said that I still looked beautiful, but that she just loved my long hair so much it made her a little sad.”
Lucas nodded knowingly. “Second grade?”
“And then she went missing. And… I haven’t cut it since, because I knew she liked it long. I wanted it to be long for when she came home.” She took in a deep breath. “It’s time to cut it, Lucas.”
“Okay.”
She turned forward again and felt Lucas’s hand graze her neck as he gathered up all of her hair. Then the cold metal of the scissor blade touched her skin and she shivered. Lucas took a deep breath and released it before making the first cut.
The hair made a soft sound as it hit the floor. Morgan realized they should’ve put down a towel or something to catch it all, but it was too late now. As more of it fell onto the tile, she felt like a weight was lifting from her. So much of her life had been defined by one event: the loss of her mother. To learn now the truth about that loss was somehow liberating. She realized that she had put so many things on hold, waiting for her mother to return. So much of her energy had gone into worrying about her mother’s safety. She’d been worried so much about
it, in fact, that she had put herself and her friends in danger. And for what? For a woman who had left of her own volition. Greg had said it was to keep Morgan safe, and Chelsea may have indeed seen it that way, but there had to have been another way, a way that wouldn’t have left Morgan and Dylan alone with a void they couldn’t fill. It was time for Morgan to define herself, apart from her mother. The haircut was a symbol, a sign of her baptism into this new life.
Several minutes passed as Lucas worked. Morgan didn’t concern herself with what the finished product would look like; instead, she allowed herself to get lost in the feeling of his fingers in her hair. For the first time, she understood why Ris had always gone on and on about how nice it felt when she got her hair cut.
Lucas ran his hands through her hair one last time and cleared his throat. “Okay. I think it’s safe for you to look now.”
“Okay.” Morgan stood and closed the distance to the sink.
“I can always fix it,” he added hastily. “I mean, I can go shorter, not longer, obviously.”
She ignored him as she peered into the mirror. At first, she didn’t know what to think. She almost felt like she was looking at someone else’s reflection. But after the initial shock, she was able to appreciate the look. It was indeed short, and Lucas had left red in at the very tips. The angles were choppy, but pleasantly so. She shook her head and watched as the locks danced around her face like flames.
“Lucas, this is fantastic!” She threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him in a tight hug. She planted a kiss on his cheek before going back to the sink and opening up the cabinet below it. “Have you got gel or something?”
Lucas’s eyes went hazy for a moment before he exhaled, running both hands through his hair. “Uh… Um, yeah. I mean, no,” Lucas stammered, jamming his hands into his pockets. “But… But I, uh, I think Corbin does.”
Morgan located Corbin’s toiletry basket and, after a moment’s hesitation, grabbed his gel. She squeezed some out onto her palm and began working it into her hair. Consulting the mirror, she exaggerated the messiness of the cut, causing the flames of her hair to stand out. When she finished, she turned to Lucas for his opinion.
“Looks good,” he said, but something in his voice was off. It felt tight, strained.
Morgan looked at him suspiciously. “What’s wrong? Does it look bad? Do I look ridiculous?” She turned to the mirror and turned her head from side to side, trying to see as many angles as possible. Seeing nothing amiss, she turned back to Lucas.
“You don’t look ridiculous.” He reached his hand out tentatively toward her. When she leaned toward him, he touched her hair, allowing his fingers to sift through the strands and brush against her scalp. “You look… Actually, you look fantastic.”
His touch caused a shiver to course through her. Lucas’s fingertips lingered for a few seconds more before he pulled back, a smile gracing his lips.
Turning back toward the mirror, she shook her head, relishing the lightness of short hair. “This is good. It’s… It’s a new beginning.”
“I can support that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Morgan spent much of the remainder of Christmas day in Lucas’s room playing abilities-only Jenga with the cabin’s three sets of the game. At lunchtime, he left and brought back food without her even having to ask. He poked fun at her, accusing her of hiding out due to her shameful haircut, but she knew he understood the reason for her seclusion. She wasn’t ready to have to process what she’d learned about her mother, wasn’t ready for questions from anybody about whether she was okay after her breakdown.
She also wasn’t ready to see Greg again. Though Lucas could be charitable in his assessment of the situation, Morgan wasn’t sure she could so easily overlook Greg’s actions in favor of his intentions.
After managing to build a Jenga tower that nearly scraped the ceiling, Lucas stood and stretched. “Why don’t we head out to the common area?” Correctly interpreting Morgan’s silence, he added, “Greg’s in his room.”
Lucas offered his hand and Morgan allowed him to pull her to her feet.
“Hot cocoa?” she asked as he opened the door for her.
“Of course.”
Morgan smiled as she walked down the hall, feeling lighter than she had since she’d spoken to Greg. The feeling left her as she entered the common area and saw Joss. Her heart sank. She knew she should tell her cousin what she’d learned about Chelsea, but she didn’t know if she could.
Joss, who was sorting through the embroidery floss at the craft table, sensed Morgan’s entrance and turned to her. When her eyes landed on Morgan, her jaw dropped. “Yowza! What happened to your hair?”
Morgan’s hands went self-consciously to her head. “I just—”
“It’s fabulous!” Joss dropped the floss in her hands and rushed to Morgan.
Chuckling, Lucas continued into the kitchen.
Joss scrutinized Morgan’s hair from every angle. “It’s great. Did you do this yourself?”
Morgan shook her head. “Nope. Lucas did it for me.”
As if on cue, Lucas approached with a mug in his hand. Morgan took the hot cocoa Lucas handed her and smiled, taking a sip.
“It really does look great, Morgan,” Joss said, running her fingers through the hair at the base of Morgan’s neck. She glanced at Lucas. “You might be missing your calling.”
Lucas smiled and shook his head, the faintest tinge of a blush on his cheeks. “Nah. That was a one-time deal.” He glanced at Morgan and winked. “To help a friend.”
Morgan nodded to him in acknowledgment.
Joss pouted. “You sure you don’t have just one more haircut in you?”
Giving an exaggerated yawn, Lucas looked at his bare wrist. “Would you look at the time? I really should be getting to bed.”
“It’s nowhere near bedtime! Come on, Lucas. Just a trim?”
Lucas sighed, looking at Morgan. “See what you’ve started?”
Morgan smiled. “You might as well just give in. She’s kind of tenacious about stuff like this.”
“Fine,” Lucas said after a beat. “But I make no promises that it’ll look good. In fact, I might make it look bad on purpose.”
“You wouldn’t!” Joss started down the hallway, skipping.
Before he got too far away, Morgan caught Lucas by the arm. With her eyes, she tried to telegraph the request she couldn’t bring herself to speak. The smile he wore faded when he saw the look on her face. He nodded firmly. “I’ll tell her.”
“Thank you.”
He offered a half smile before starting back down the hallway.
With a sigh, Morgan walked into the living room and took a seat on one of the couches. Tucking her feet beneath her, she continued to sip her cocoa, letting the warmth of it fill her. For the first time since Greg had shared the truth about her mother’s disappearance, she allowed herself to sort through the information. She attempted to do so analytically, a detached observer of her own history.
It was good news, objectively. Chelsea was safe—had always been safe. From what Greg said, she had planned her disappearance well. And without those worries to distract her, Morgan could focus on what really mattered: stopping Orrick and fulfilling the Prophecy.
Morgan stared down into her mug. If only it were that easy. The fact of the matter was she wasn’t a casual observer here: this was her life and her emotions were inextricably linked to every piece of this new information.
She was broken out of her reverie by the appearance of Kellen. He crossed to her, sitting beside her on the couch.
He appraised her in a way that made her uncomfortable, letting out a low whistle. “New hair. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter.”
She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her cocoa. She wished she had a book so she could pretend to read it.
Kellen seemed to take her silence as an invitation to continue talking. “Here I was thinking you were going for some kind of record for lon
gest hair. But now, here you are, looking all sassy. Makes a guy wonder what brought on this change.”
Morgan looked at him. Part of her wanted to tell him everything Greg told her. She wanted to know how he would react, thinking it might help guide her own emotions. In the moment, she wished she had a measure of his cool logic, thinking it might provide a clarity her emotion-driven consciousness could not. But the thought of telling him dissolved as quickly as it appeared, leaving her with certainty that she couldn’t tell him—she couldn’t talk about it with anyone yet. She suddenly felt more thankful than ever for Lucas and his maddening ability to know everything.
“What’s that on your hands?”
Morgan looked down, surprised to find she was still wearing the fingerless gloves Lia had made for her. “Christmas present.”
Kellen’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. It’s Christmas?”
“Yeah.”
He looked around the room. “Did you guys exchange gifts or something?”
She shrugged. “Most of us, yeah.”
“And you didn’t get me anything?” He pouted.
Morgan felt a pang. In all of her careful planning of gifts, it hadn’t even crossed her mind to make something for Kellen. She tried to push the emotion down. “You didn’t get anything for me either.”
“You can’t fault me. I’m under the influence.”
She smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Always.” He grinned. “Besides, you’re wrong. I did get you something.”
“What? Really?”
He nodded. “Close your eyes.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. He made a face at her and she smiled, complying with his request. She felt his weight lift from the couch and she wondered where he might be going.
She felt his presence in front of her too late, giving her no reaction time as Kellen moved in close to her. Before she could move her face, her arms, open her eyes, Kellen’s lips, soft as rose petals, brushed across hers. His hand went to her cheek as his kiss pressed in more firmly. The cadence of Morgan’s heart sped up with a rush of adrenaline to her system. While her body tried to make up its mind between fight and flight, she remained still. And when Kellen finally drew back, she wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t kissed him back.
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