A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 85: Girls Day Out

Mom wakes me after another night terror—that's what Dr. Cambridge calls it, the therapist that Dr. Reed referred me to. They're starting to bug me; all of them; they're all based on what happened in that cave, and every time I wake up, mom's hugging me when I wish she wouldn't, but I don't have the heart to tell her to stop and leave me be.

"Sometimes I wonder how your dad doesn't wake up to you screaming, Emi," she says, brushing hair behind my ear. "He's always been an easier sleeper than me."

I say nothing, trying to focus on trying not to cry. I have no idea why I'm experiencing these things. Dr. Cambridge says they're tied to my past, my days with Setrákus Ra, said it might be some sort of emotional imbalance because of my time with him—whatever the hell that means.

It's still dark; 4:13 a.m. to be exact. Mom puts a hand on my arm, and only then do I realize how badly I'm shaking. I hold my breath to keep still. "Have you talked to Dr. Cambridge about this?" I nod but refuse to look up at her. "What about any of your friends?"

"I told Jacob."

"One of the twins?" I'm surprised she remembers. "How'd it go?"

"Fine, but I didn't tell him everything. Not as much as I told Dr. Cambridge." I didn't expect it, but I found that I like Dr. Cambridge. I've never grown to like a therapist before. It's just... it's easier to speak to him, I guess, than it was the others, and he doesn't try to tell me that everything's fine when it obviously isn't. "But I still don't think he knows why this is happening to me."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," she says.

Pixie hops closer to nuzzle the back of my hand and that's the only time I loosen myself to pull her into my lap. "I hope so," I say. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"I wish you would tell me what's bothering you, Emi," she goes on. "If I knew more..."

"I can't."

"Why not? Why can't you talk to me?" I think about that. Why can't I talk to her? It's not that she won't understand—because I think she will, eventually—it's just... if I tell her, well, it might hurt. I don't know how she'll react. I don't want her to feel bad for me in any way or worry. "Get dressed," she says, clapping me on the shoulder. "How 'bout we go for breakfast? Just the two of us." I smile a bit at the idea; it doesn't sound so bad. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

***

Mom drives us to Kora, a neat little restaurant five minutes away by car. It's a bright restaurant with a smiling sun for a logo, as if ordering a sunny side up egg will improve your mood as well, and I wonder if that's why mom chose this place at all.

There's a young woman at the front desk that settles us into a booth and a waiter—Tom—arrives shortly after to ask for drinks. "Do you have iced tea?" It's my usual drink of choice outside.

"Sure do," he says. "Glass or bottle?"

"Glass, please. Thanks."

He nods and once he leaves, we look through the menu. It's not a big menu; it's one page front and back, laminated, and pretty, but still with plenty of options to choose from. "Do you know what you're having?" mom asks.

"Eggs, fruit, toast. I'm not that hungry." Mom frowns, disappointed, I think, in my lack of appetite, but I can't help it. "What are you going to have?" I ask in the hopes to change the subject.

"An omelette. I haven't had one in a long time." Pixie slithers from my pocket to my shoulder and nuzzles my neck; mom's gaze shifts from me to her. "You brought your pet?"

"She comes with me everywhere." As neutral as I try to sound, it's a little irritating to hear someone call her my pet; that's not what she is. "Her name's Pixie."