The Gifting (Book 1 in The Gifting Series)

by K.E. Ganshert

  Chapter Fifteen

  Unexpected Encounters

  “What are you doing here?”

  He steps back, his gorgeous eyes widening like he’s seen a ghost. Like he can’t believe I’m here. And then for a second, I see the same flash of intrigue in his eye as I did in Dr. Roth’s. Of all the people I want to know about my visits to a shrink, Luka is the last. But he is here too. So does that mean …?

  “My dad owns the place,” he says quickly.

  My heart sinks. His dad? Luka’s father owns the Edward Brooks Facility? My mind scrambles for an excuse, for some non-incriminating reason as to why I might be here. “I-I needed to-I, um …” My mind fails. In my exhaustion, I am unable to drum up any sort of believable explanation.

  His eyes soften. “It’s okay, Tess. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I’m not crazy,” I say.

  “I never said you were.”

  A seed of suspicion germinates inside my chest. So his dad owns the facility. That still doesn’t explain why he’s here now, in the middle of the morning on a school day. “Why aren’t you at school?”

  “Why did you leave class so fast?”

  I take a slight step backward. “Did you follow me?”

  He steps closer. “What upset you in class, Tess?”

  Oh nothing much. Just a white-eyed man thing lunging at me. Didn’t you see it? If not for my growing fear and Luka’s dangerous curiosity, I would laugh. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

  “So you ran out?”

  “I didn’t want to get sick all over Mr. Lotsam’s floor.”

  He cocks his head. “And you came here?”

  My cheeks blossom with heat. I don’t know how to answer that one.

  Frustration carves a deep furrow between his eyebrows. “You seemed really scared of something.”

  I was, I want to say. I was terrified.

  But I can’t tell Luka that. I can’t tell him anything.

  I stare at the journal Dr. Roth gave me. It’s half past midnight. My eyelids droop, but I pace inside my room. Dr. Roth wants me to record my dreams. I’d rather not have any. So I tell myself to stay awake. I realize the insanity of my plan. I will have to sleep eventually. I just don’t want it to be tonight. I need a break.

  A cool breeze ruffles my drapes and brings the scent of the sea inside my room. From my window, I have a clear view of Luka’s house cloaked in darkness. I sit in the alcove and tuck my legs up to my chest, wondering which bedroom is his. Wondering why he showed up at the Edward Brooks Facility when he did. The more I replay the awkward conversation, the more convinced I am that he knows something.

  But what?

  Moonlight and the sound of breaking waves filters into my bedroom, reminding me of Connecticut. We lived there when I was six. Pete and I used to run up and down the shoreline on Sunday mornings, searching for shells and starfish that would wash up after the high tide. Life was so much simpler back then. When you’re six, it’s okay to be afraid of the dark. It’s okay to have an overactive imagination. I didn’t feel different yet. I was just a kid with a younger brother and an ocean at my fingertips.

  My eyes grow heavier. I rest my head back against the wall and give into the weight. But then a light floods on and my eyes pop open. It’s a sensor down below. It lights up the front of Luka’s home and a shadowed figure slinks out the front door. I sit up straighter, all traces of tiredness gone. The figure looks over his shoulder—one way, then the other—then creeps into the dark.

  It’s Luka. I’m sure of it. Luka Williams is sneaking out of his house.

  I don’t give myself time to think. I don’t give myself time to chicken out. I grab a zip-up hoodie off the floor and tiptoe quickly out of my room while jabbing my arms into the sleeves. I creep down the stairs as quietly and as quickly as possible, shove my feet into a pair of sneakers by the door, press the code on our alarm so it doesn’t alert my sleeping parents, and hurry outside. I find Luka at the end of our block and take off after him—keeping far enough away that I can’t be spotted, but close enough that I won’t lose him.

  Three blocks later, I come to my senses. This is not only extremely dangerous, it’s insanely stalkerish. For all I know, Luka is sneaking off to Summer’s house. And here I am, the freaky weird girl who goes to the Edward Brooks Facility, following him in the dead of night. But curiosity has trumped all reason. It propels me forward.

  We come to the end of Forest Grove. Luka punches in the code and the gate squeals open while I hide behind a bush, my out-of-breath lungs screaming into the silence. The harder I try to reign them in, the worse they get. As the gate begins to close, I hurry to make it through, thankful for my silent feet, and fall back into shadow.

  A couple blocks later, I see it—the Edward Brooks Facility.

  It looms ahead of us in all its haunted-house glory, more intimidating in the dead of night than it’s ever been in the afternoon. I take in all five stories—at the spotlights shining up the walls—and I wonder if there are crazy, deranged people inside. Like the ones I saw during the séance. Luka walks up the cement steps and I crouch behind the shrubs at the bottom, feeling like a female version of James Bond. He punches in another code—and I count out the time it will take to fly up the stairs and grab the door before it closes behind him. I won’t have long and if I miss it, I’ll be out of luck. Unlike Luka, I don’t know the code.

  I take a deep breath, preparing to bolt. One … two … three!

  Luka opens the door and I sprint after him, catching the handle before the door shuts. I slip inside and let it close behind me, hoping he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t. He walks down the hall, like he knows exactly where he’s headed. I tiptoe behind him, my shoulder blades pressed up against the wall, my heart beating like mad, my entire body pulsing with adrenaline. I’ve walked this path enough times now to know where we’re headed.

  He stops in front of Dr. Roth’s office. I peek around the corner as he removes a key from his pocket and slides it into the lock. There’s a loud click and the door squeals open. Luka disappears inside. I creep toward the office and stop in the doorway. Luka stands by Dr. Roth’s filing cabinet. And he’s reading a file.

  Anger rises inside me—fierce and sudden. He has no right looking through files, especially if that file belongs to me. I step inside the room. “What are you doing?”

  Luka whirls around, his eyes wide, and we stare at each other for an extended, silent, chest-heaving moment.

  “Did you follow me?” he asks.

  It’s the same question I asked him earlier today. Or actually, yesterday. But he never answered then, so I figure I don’t have to answer now. I step closer and my suspicions are right. The folder in his hand has my name typed neatly on the tab. My indignation swells. “That’s my file.”

  He pulls it behind his back, as if hiding it will erase what I already saw.

  “What are you doing with my folder?” I sound brave, strong, and for a second, I wonder if I’m dreaming. But I scratch my wrist and the spot burns. This is all very real. Luka. Me. Alone in Dr. Roth’s dark office in the dead of night. “You have no right to read any of that. It’s private.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  He pushes his hand back through his hair. It sticks up in all directions, only instead of looking ridiculous, like I no doubt do, he looks sexy and disheveled. Frustrated, too. “I had to know what you told Dr. Roth today.”

  “That’s none of your business.” And how does he know I’m seeing Dr. Roth? I never mentioned his name. Surely there is more than one doctor in a facility this large.

  “I know,” he says. “But I was … curious.”

  Curious? That was his motivation? It doesn’t make sense. None of it. Why would a boy like Luka go to so much trouble over somebody like me? Why would he be so interested? “This is not a normal response to curiosity.”

  His eyes flash. “No?”

  “Breaking into a facility in th
e middle of the night and stealing private files? No.”

  He steps toward me. “Is it any worse than spying?”

  I refuse to step back. I refuse to be intimidated.

  “Were you watching me or something?”

  My cheeks burn. “I was sitting at my window when I saw your sensor light come on.”

  “And you decided to follow me?”

  “I’m not the one who’s been caught committing a crime.”

  His jaw tightens.

  “I don’t understand why you’d go through all this trouble.”

  He shakes his head and pivots away. When he turns back around, there’s a look of such desperation on his face that I’m momentarily flustered. He stares at me as if I have the power to save him. Me, Teresa Eckhart, a girl who can’t even save herself.

  He steps closer. We’re standing as close as we did in my dream, only this isn’t the beach and this isn’t happening in my sleep. His eyes bore into mine and I can barely breathe, let alone think. “Why did you leave class?” he whispers.

  “I already told you.”

  “The truth?”

  My heart beats like a caged animal. I want to tell him, but I hardly know him. Who’s to say Luka is trustworthy? Especially since he’s here in the middle of the night with my file in his hand?

  “You can tell me the truth, Tess. I promise to keep whatever secrets you have.”

  “How can I know that?”

  After a beat, he walks to Dr. Roth’s filing cabinet and pulls out another manila folder. He takes my wrist and places the thick file in my upturned hand. “Because I have secrets too.”

  I stare down at the name typed across the tab—Luka Williams.

  “And I think we saw the same thing in Mr. Lotsam’s class today.”