“They didn’t know.”
“What did I draw?” She thought for a second. “Egyptian scenes. One after the other.”
“You made a lot of word chains. It’s how you communicated.”
“That was all I had. Words instead of sentences or paragraphs. No chapters in the Book of Thea.”
She stared at the blank canvas and a shiver came over her. She hugged herself, her eyes shining.
“Are you okay?”
“I ruined the last painting I made… Because of him. He was making me do things. I couldn’t remember but I knew. I know that doesn’t make sense…”
“It does,” I said. “I get it.”
“You did,” she said, looking at me. “You knew what I was trying to say when I slashed my New York painting with black. I ruined it because he was ruining me.”
Her voice broke on the last words, and without thinking, I put my arms around her. She clung to me a moment, before pushing herself away and wiping her eyes.
“No more crying,” she said. “I don’t want to be inside anymore. I don’t want to be here, anymore. Inside these walls.”
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“On the grounds? With the fences hidden just out of sight? Sure, why not?”
But she went and once outside in the fresh air and sunshine, she heaved a sigh.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you, Jimmy. I’m stir crazy. I feel like I could run a marathon, but they still got me on a hamster wheel.”
“It’s early yet,” I said. “Give them time. They need to make sure you’re okay.”
“I know. I’m not ungrateful, just ready to move on.” She peered up at me. “What about you? Did you ever want to do something besides work at a sanitarium?”
I started to shrug but told her the truth instead. “I wanted to be a speech therapist for kids.”
She stopped walking, her lips parted in surprise. “That’s brilliant. Why not do that?”
“College means more talking. It was hard enough to finish high school.”
Her brows furrowed. “Wait, I remember now. You were bullied.” Her expression hardened. “I hate that. I hate they did that to you. But you can’t give up on your dreams, Jimmy. I know that sounds super after-school-special, but it’s true.”
“A stutterer helping stuttering kids?”
“A stutter makes you perfect for the job. Those kids need to see someone who’s just like them. Someone who had it tough too but made it through.”
We came to the bench we’d sat on the other day. The one that faced the north facade of Blue Ridge and the surrounding forest beyond.
“You don’t know how amazing you are, Jimmy, because no one’s told you.” I stiffened, but she put her hand on my arm. “It’s not pity, okay? Just the facts. You’ve helped me more than anyone. I don’t just mean with the painting and the music. I mean… that night.”
She faced forward. Her voice was shaky, but she didn’t crumble.
“Earlier today, Rita asked me if I wanted to talk about him and I said no. But I guess today’s the day, after all.”
“I’m here,” I said.
She inhaled and let out a ragged breath.
“I know I talked a lot about Antony and Cleopatra. Constantly. I even told people I was an Egyptologist of all things. But of course, I wasn’t. I love Egypt and its history and the pyramids. Painting them was my forte before the accident. But after, I needed a story. I think it was the only way I knew to keep from going crazy. To borrow Cleopatra’s history since I had none.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
She nodded and smiled gratefully. “When Brett started coming at night, he told me there was no one I could call for help. Just him and me.”
“He lied,” I said in a low voice full of grit for not realizing what he’d been doing sooner. “He lied to make you feel helpless.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “So I borrowed Cleopatra’s story. Marc Antony was dead, and she was so alone. She put her hand in the snake’s basket. And so did I. But I wasn’t alone, was I?”
I shook my head. “No, Thea.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” she continued. “I know it probably seemed like it. I only did it because that’s what Cleopatra did, and she was me. Her story was mine, so I told it the only way I knew how.”
She squinted up at me.
“You were there. You snatched my hand out of the basket. Because you heard me telling the story when no one else did.” Her voice quavered but didn’t break. “And you stopped Brett. Not just stopped him; you made him a human bowling ball and sent him crashing into my dresser.”
“He deserved it,” I said. “I’d do it again.”
“What was the song you sang to me after?”
“‘I Will Follow You into the Dark.’”
She leaned her head on my shoulder. “Will you sing it for me?”
“Now?”
“There is never a better time.”
“I guess not.”
I cleared my throat and sang to Thea as the afternoon fell toward twilight and the sky deepened to purple and orange. This wasn’t in the job description. It wasn’t in my description to feel whatever I was feeling for Thea. She was too good. It felt too good to be with her.
Nothing good lasts…
I finished the song.
“You’re a beautiful singer, Jimmy.” She sniffed and sat up. “Jimmy with the kind eyes. That’s how I remembered you. Right here.” She put her hand between her breasts, over her heart.
I nodded, staring at her mouth. Ready to kiss her. Fucking dying to kiss her. To fill my hands with her face and her hair. To delve into her mouth and taste the sweetness of her.
But her eyes were still shining with tears over what Brett had done. I had to take care of her. That was my job.
“We should g-g-go inside,” I said.
“Jimmy…” But then she nodded. “Okay. I guess we should.”
I led her back inside the sanitarium, but as the door shut behind us, I felt like I was betraying us both.
Chapter 23
Thea
One week later, Dr. Milton flew back to Sydney.
“If he can leave, why can’t I?” I asked Dr. Chen during one of my morning checkups.
Delia sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling on her phone. Even this early in the morning, she was here, hovering over me.
She heaved a sigh. “Here we go again.”
I made a face at her while Dr. Chen listened to my heart.
“It’s still too soon to know the long-term effects of the medication,” she said, looping the stethoscope around her neck. “We need you in a controlled setting for your safety. Not to mention, you’re only the eleventh candidate in the history of medical science to undergo this procedure. It’s far too early to send you off into the world without precautions.”
“I’m fine. I feel great. I remember more and more every day. I want to leave Blue Ridge, rent my own place, get a job. And if there are side-effects to the medication, I don’t want to sit around in here waiting for them.”