A Curse of Shadows

His hand slips down my arm and his fingers entwine with mine. “I’ll take you to her and then we can carry her in here. She should only be out another twenty minutes or so.”

We exit my room and I move in front of Asher, releasing his hand to rush into Grayson’s room. Throwing open the door, I see him standing over the bed, looking like a completely different man than the one I had dinner with last night.

The color is back in his face, his stance is strong and steady, and his shirt doesn’t hang as loosely from his frame. Hell, he might even be a couple of inches taller.

As he smiles at me, a profound connection—a burst of familial warmth—floods through me, reinforcing the bond I’ve only begun to rediscover. It’s like the sun’s rays piercing through a long, overcast sky.

I close my eyes and another memory flickers within my mind, drawing back to a time I don’t ever want to forget again.

“Higher, Daddy!” I giggle, grinning widely at the brunette girl next to me on the swings. She’s maybe a few years older than me in this memory, but I would recognize her anywhere.

Elodee.

“Me next, Daddy,” she exclaims, kicking her feet wildly.

“I only have two arms, girls,” Dad says joyfully. “You can either each get one big push at a time, or small pushes together.”

“Big ones!” Elodee and I scream together as I hold on to the chains of the swing with all my might. Though I do wonder…would I be able to fly if only I let go? Even if I couldn’t, I’d still be okay because Daddy would catch me.

He always has.

I blink rapidly, coming out of the memory. Asher’s arms are around me, keeping me upright as tears stream down my face. “Dad.”

The word is barely a whisper on my lips and laden with years of loss, but he seems to have no problem hearing me. “Oh, Issie.”

I stumble forward and right into his arms. “I missed you so much.”

One hand holds me tightly around my back and the other against my head. “Oh, my girl. You have no idea.”

We stand there, crying together, and the more time that passes, the stronger my connection to this man grows. Almost as if there’s a tether tying us together, bonding us for all eternity.

Memories come, but they’re more like brief flickers of moments in time. Each one with Grayson in them. Sometimes it’s just the two of us and sometimes Elodee is there as well, but it’s never more than that.

I crave to see my mother, to hear her laugh and see her smile, but her image never comes.

“I don’t know how I could have forgotten you,” I tell him, wiping at my face with my hands and looking up at his face. “It’s undeniable now.”

“We’re going to figure this out, Issie,” he promises, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “I’m just glad to have both my girls back. If only your mother could be here, then everything would be perfect.”

A twinge of sadness accompanies his words, but the memories of her are too faint, too intangible for true sorrow. Instead, I find solace in his strength, in the promise of answers and justice.

Elodee makes a noise and I move to get a better look at her, needing to see my best friend, my…sister. I laugh to myself. She’s going to love that more than anything.

“El?” I say softly as I take her hand and inspect every inch of her body. Like me, she’s changed ever so slightly. The scar on her forehead from when I accidentally hit her with a toy truck when we were little is no longer present.

Her skin glows, a creamy radiance that seems illuminated from within, and her hair, now woven with strands of deep purple, adds an exotic flair to her natural brunette. As she turns restlessly, murmuring in discomfort, I gently cup her cheek, trying to soothe her. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Her discomfort is palpable; she shifts again, a groan escaping her lips, but her eyes remain shut. Concern tightens my chest, and I glance anxiously at Asher and Grayson. “What’s wrong with her?” My voice is edged with panic.

Nobody answers me and anxiety constricts my chest like a vise. I lean closer, pressing my ear against her chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of her heart. Yet her body betrays signs of distress: her arms twitch, and her torso twists in silent agony.

Impatience and worry sharpen my tone as I shake her gently. “Elodee, wake up!”

“Damn, Isla,” she murmurs, her voice thick with grogginess. “Give me a minute. I just had the craziest…” Her words falter as her eyes flutter open, confusion clouding her gaze as she takes in her surroundings. “Holy fuck. Am I still dreaming?” She rubs her temples, squeezing her eyes shut again. “What is wrong with me?”

My hands cover hers, grounding her. “Absolutely nothing is wrong, and you’re not dreaming. I thought the same when I got here.”

But she’s disoriented, shaking her head in denial, unwilling to accept this new reality. “Something is wrong with my head. I’m seeing…”