Cored

Chapter 46: Handoff

That night, she stayed downstairs long after Crawley had gone up. She didn't really want to go to bed, but when she finally managed to calm herself down enough, the nightmares came quickly.

This time, she was in the same cave, but there were more people around her than before. Each time one came up and cut a new slit in her arm, taking a vial of blood before moving out of the way for the next person. The line went on and on, some taking blood, some cutting chunks of her hair, some taking a finger or a toe and pulling the bones—.

She woke up, having fallen off the couch and onto the ground. Her heart was racing, and she didn't think she had started screaming yet. She didn't hear Crawley moving upstairs, so the fall must have woken her before she could wake him.

Giving up on sleep, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. They really needed a TV. She wandered around for a while, sat on both porches, made tea, and tried to read a book, but it was still the middle of the night. She padded upstairs quietly to see if there was anything she wanted to change in her room, but she stopped when she saw the picture frame that Crawley had left on her bedside table next to the snowglobe.

With a heavy sigh, she went over to her backpack and pulled out her mother's notebook. When she let her magic seep into her eyes, she could see the green fuzz surrounding it. She let out her static like a feather duster and started to wipe the magic away. When she opened it, she saw the familiar handwriting, but letters rearranging and entries appearing. One in particular caught her eye.

April 20th, 1995

She's getting close. G.W. is so excited it's hard to be angry or even dubious of everything he has told me. He has moments, though, where is thinks he'll ruin everything. That he's too young to be a good dad, that there's too much happening to keep us safe. I keep saying, "Georgie, as long as you are there, she'll love you no matter what." Can't say I don't have the same concern, though. Especially because I don't think he's going to tell anyone other than F.W. I know he's just worried. Somehow, he thinks it's...protective? Maybe he'll change his mind.

She flipped to the back as she sat on the back window seat, wondering if anything new would appear. There were only a handful of entries.

July 9th, 1995

Still think G.W. is mental. He thinks we should just leave him, go off on our own. But how would we be any safer far away from him? How am I supposed to do this alone? And it wouldn't just be leaving him, it would be leaving my family.

July 28th, 1995

It's getting harder to not write everything down, but G.W. is worried Mum or Dad will find my notebook. But I just keep thinking, what if K.W. is like him—how will I teach her anything? How will she even care about me and my little world when she has all of that to turn to? Well, if it's still a world around at all. The way G.W. talks, you'd think it could crumble tomorrow.

January 1st, 1997

Haven't written in forever. G.W. says too dangerous, but I don't want to forget. He and F.W. came the other day, they did card tricks for K.W. She just giggled and pulled the cards from their hands. She's so smart, and funny—even Dad can't get enough of her.

February 2nd, 1997

G.W. and I are still fighting. He says we have to leave. Someone named Dumbledore told him it's not safe anymore. But leaving him, taking K.W. away from him, it just seems wrong. I'll do anything to keep her safe—but how will I do that without him? F.W. won't tell me what he thinks, but I imagine if the roles were reversed, if it was his kid, he'd never let us go. If that man thinks he can just buy me a plane ticket and send me away from everything I know, he's delusional.