Hunter's Daughter

Chapter Eleven ~ Alice

As soon as Dad left my room, I used my new burner phone to text Shane.

Even in a delirious state, I kept the truth from him. Our previous messages revealed his memory had been wiped, which was both good and bad. That kind of knowledge was dangerous. But it didn't change the fact that he was the only one I could truly trust. The only one I was desperate to vent to.

Despite texting at two in the morning, rambling about my father's job and how it wasn't what it seemed and he was going to have a "chat" with me, Shane responded in seconds:

Hope it goes okay

Keep me updated

Don't forget I'm here for you

Now get some sleep!!

... And with a wobbly smile on my face, I eventually did.

When I woke up, I discovered my parents had left early, probably to tend to "the city's welfare". Relief and impatience warred inside of me, the questions starting to buzz in my brain like a harassment of texts, notifying me I somehow knew so much and still so little. Why had Dad waited? Was he going to zap my memories again?

They distracted me all day and created the perfect excuse for my lecturers to pick on me. At one point, there were stifled sniggers, our economics teacher bellowing, "If you'd like, Alice, we can get you a blanket and cushion, and you can have a nap? Or are you going to be a big-girl and listen to what I'm teaching you?"

When he'd turned back to the board, Tiffany took the opportunity to spin around, aiming an amused grin at me. Ugh, she was such a child. But I chose to be too, too sleep-deprived and fired-up to ignore her. After I'd pulled a face, nose scrunched up in contempt, she brushed back those bouncy curls, satisfied, returning to the lecture. It took every ounce of the strength I had not to leap over the table and throttle her.

Instead, I settled into my seat, trying to picture a time when my ability — my affliction, the Curse — wouldn't abuse me like this.

Wait. I was in control. The when was down to me.

That powered me through the afternoon till I met with Noah. We'd agreed on the dance studio built into the sports hall, where we could "borrow" the space when there were no classes. It meant I didn't leave the grounds, and kept suspicion to a minimum.

I found my trainer waiting there, slouched against the wall. At first, I assumed he was in a bad mood – something I was adjusting to. But as I approached, I noticed the lines creasing his head, fingers at his temples. He didn't even acknowledge my presence. A headache maybe?

He straightened, playing it down as soon as he realised I'd arrived. "You're late."

"Hi, Alice. It's good to see you again," I joshed, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh, thanks, you too, Noah."

He rolled his eyes. "Hilarious... Now are you ready to train?"

"First. I have something to tell you." I received a raise of the eyebrow, so I carried on, "I saw the shadow again. It was exactly like my memory. It had this... face. And it was staring at me. So I shouted Dad."

"Weird," Noah murmured.

"What's weird?"

"That you live with Frank," he said, forcing a shudder. I didn't appreciate the comment, which amused Noah, creasing himself. "Sorry. Sorry. This is serious... Ahem. You sure you weren't having a nightmare?"

"No. Dad's going to talk to me about it. He told me I was in control."

Noah collected himself, a serious expression returning. "In control of the shadows?"