Never Tell a Soul, Damon Priest

21. the blissful days

"You did what?"

Geneva's chuckle grew as she leaned back against the chaise and into the shadows of the well, filled with mirth and pride while Damon gaped at her. Moonlight beamed upon his still form. "I did as I said," she repeated. She didn't know how else to convince him.

"All on your own?"

She nodded, pressing her lips together because if she didn't, she may burst out in a bubble of laughter.

"You didn't tell me."

"You don't get to have all my secrets, Sir."

He scoffed and adjusted his position on the chaise. "Tell me. Every detail of it."

She did, and all the while, his face would give her hints of what he thought of her story. His brows would perk up in disbelief and dip with curiosity. The smile on his lips never faltered, merely widened. And his eyes... They were everything she needed to see. When she was done, they reflected the mellow glow of the moonlight.

"And what did your letter contain?" he asked, tone genuinely filled with interest. "If you do not mind."

She grinned and rested her head on the chaise. "Not much," she said. "I introduced myself. I told her how I found out about them. It was far shorter than my first letter. I didn't write the questions I wrote in my first letter."

"Why?"

"They did not matter as much now."

He stared at her until she grew conscious. "I'm proud of you," he finally said. "Truly. It was brave of you."

She shrugged. "To be honest, I'm more afraid of Matthew than anyone. Isn't that odd?"

"Because you know him more." He shifted and leaned back beside her. "What else did you write?"

Geneva smiled when he took her hand and laced their fingers. "That I'll come to her again soon. That she doesn't have to come to me because I will."

A smile softened the smile on his face. "You'll find your way back to them."

She nodded, eyes burning with fresh tears. "And I did, didn't I?"

His hand squeezed hers. "Yes."

They sat there in the quiet for a while, like always, silently guessing the noises aboveground. When he broke the silence, she burst into laughter because he asked, "Does this mean that the devils no longer have a governess?"

***

The next day, Geneva was on a walk with Roxie and Freda. The sunny afternoon was perfect to catch grasshoppers, they said. While they did just that, they discussed their next play.

She stayed on the path while the two devils ventured into a field of smooth meadow-grass. Honestly, she could just go home and spend a delightful afternoon in the garden with Gwen, but Roxie and Freda's play was quite intriguing. This time, they were writing about a murder. She did not want to wait until their next play to learn the ending.

"What if she goes missing?" Freda asked, squinting against the ray of sun.

"No, she can't go missing," said Roxie, creeping over the grass, hands at the ready. She jumped and growled in frustration when her prey escaped. "Her father has already gone missing. If she does, who will solve the case?"

"She can lose her memory," suggested Geneva, leaning over a tree. "And she continues to live with her father's murderer."

The two girls paused and turned to look at her. "That is actually a splendid idea," said Roxie.