Journey of a Girl

Secrets We Keep: Chapter Four

Credence was in desperate need of a bath.

With her hunger finally sated the other needs of her body were pushed into awareness, and she could smell a tinge of odorous sweat rising from her person. The Collector's world was perpetually warm, keeping a sticky humidity on her skin.

She toyed with the idea of remaining filthy and letting the dirt cake onto her body so that she became a walking monument to bad smells and unwashed skin.

The Collector would surely keep his distance.

Maybe then she could have a meal in peace.

In the end, Credence knew this was a hopeless pursuit, for the feeling of grit under her nails was something she could not bear for long. If the Collector didn't mind her filthy state, she certainly would before long.

There was no more perfect place for a bath, she thought, than the beautiful lake John had shown her, so she walked to it, enjoying her solitude after the irritating company of dinner.

A brief fear flashed through her mind, that someone was watching, but she pushed it aside and quickly slipped from her clothes before plunging into the lake. The cool water brought instant relief and she relaxed into it, kicking up to float on her back. The splash of the waterfall was a lullaby to her ears, and its rhythm eased her thoughts.

She gazed at the empty sky and thought it a very lonely scene. There would never be a moon or sun to watch over this world, where twilight reigned alongside the purple light.

There was an undeniable romance to it though, that perfect moment where day danced with night. She wondered if she would ever look at dusk the same way after escaping this world, or if she would grimace forevermore at its arrival.

If she escaped.

Her eyes drifted to the marred skin symbol on her arm. It was now a raised puff of pinkish scars, and though the pain had long died, the reminder of what she'd done to herself stung deep.

There was still a mystery surrounding its meaning. The people of the towns feared Darkwood Marc, that much was certain, and Ma must have counted on that fear to keep humans away—but the question remained: Why did the towns fear him? Did he really steal angels like the imposter Headmaster said? Frederick, the real Headmaster, told Credence her pa saved people.

But she had never seen another person in the woods, not in the whole of her childhood.

Where did Pa take them? Was there a secret collective of those he helped living in the forest?

Her parents were gone, and with them, a world of explanations. She would never know the truth, and she had to accept that.

She held up her hand and examined the old wound of her missing pinky.

Piece by piece she was being taken away. What would happen when there was nothing left?

She forced her mind from such miserable thoughts.

The last time she had been for a swim was with Josiah, right before their encounter with the bog woman, though Credence knew she needn't fear such a meeting here. This lake belonged to the Collector's memories—had this been a place where he found comfort, once upon a time?

It was difficult to imagine the Collector enjoying a swim—

Does the Collector bathe?

The thought flashed across her mind before she had a chance to stop it, and she shook it from her head immediately, not wanting to think of him in any state of relief.