Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Wake up, Sydney.

My eyes snap open to a dark room.

Who just said that? Was that in my dream?

My heart is already racing, the blood thumping in my ears, and I take in a shaky breath as I hold the covers to my chest, trying to bring my brain back online.

The room is freezing. I can see my breath when I exhale. The nights have been comfortable so far, but tonight, I have to wonder if the heat is even on. Perhaps they shut down the heat pump at night sometimes to conserve power, and this is the first time I've noticed. That said, the day had been warm and sunny, finally feeling like summer is on the way.

After Dr. Wu's breakdown, we stayed on the beach, all of us eventually having a stone-skipping competition and enjoying the weather until lunch rolled around, and then it was time for yet another "foraging" expedition with Nick. We took the logging road to the west, taking lichen samples from a stand of maples. Nick told us that Dr. Wu was going through something very personal at the moment, the loss of a friend, and that next week, Everly would take her place in teaching.

At dinner, my appetite stayed steady, and I was able to enjoy the grilled spring salmon and roast veggies before I went to bed, early as usual, though I made a point of writing down in my diary.

I sigh, hoping I can get back to sleep, and settle further into my pillow, careful not to lie on my aching arm. I feel the weightlessness of drifting back to sleep when I hear something that pulls me out of it.

A loud groan outside my door.

The floorboards.

"Fuck," I whisper to myself, my body going still. Not this again.

I tilt my head to look at the door.

The light under the frame is dim, a strange white glow.

There's a shadow of two feet standing in the hallway.

I breathe in sharply. The cold air solidifies in my chest, fear settling in my bones as if trying to make a home in the marrow.

What the fuck?

Please let that be a student , I can't help but think. Even Clayton would be fine .

I don't know why my mind is jumping to the supernatural, but it's kind of a given with a creaky old lodge like this one and zombie wolves in the forest.

The person moves, shifting their weight from one foot to the other, and something about that both makes me think they're anxious and also makes me think it's not a ghost.

Then they move, the floorboards creaking as they walk down the hall.

Stay put , I tell myself.

Let them go.

Don't get up.

And yet I get up, as if my blood is thick with metal and someone outside is wielding a giant magnet. I step into my slippers, grab my robe and cinch it against the cold, then go to the door.

I don't want to listen; I don't want to hear that awful inhuman voice hissing please . I already heard a wolf talking—that was enough.

Release me, it had said.

That was the one part I left out when talking to Kincaid, Everly, and the others about what had happened. They didn't need to know that part.

Instead, I unlock the door, put my hand on the knob, and yank it open.

The hallway is darker than normal. Instead of the sconces glowing at intervals along the wall, there's only one light midway down the hall, casting everything else in shadow.

At the end of the hall is a blur of a person, a girl in a white nightgown, a flash of long dark hair as she disappears into the shower room.

I stare at her for a moment, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness. It could be Natasha—her hair is similar—but there was something unnerving about the way she walked, the way she held herself like she was…

Broken .

I stand there, waiting for her to close the door of the shower room.

But she doesn't. It remains partially open, enough that I can see inside. Or I would be able to if there was enough light. It's blacker than black, not just shadows, but like a void.

And the lodge is so silent it's like it's holding its breath along with me. I can't hear anyone else, no one snoring or turning in their sleep, and no sound of the shower or someone undressing in the room.

What is going on?

I find myself padding down the hallway in my slippers, trying to avoid creaky floorboards. As I pass by the light I realize it's a nightlight, one that would turn on if the power went out.

As I get closer to the end of the hall, I finally hear a sound.

Coming from the shower.

A rustling sound like…

Raspy breathing.

I stop just outside the door, afraid to pull it open, afraid to ask if they're okay, if they need any help. My chest feels constricted, like it's squeezing my heart and making it smaller and smaller, the beat irregular as it tries to escape.

I reach out with my hand.

It's shaking.

Cold air breathes down my spine, my skin sharp with goosebumps.

I grab the knob.

Pull it back.

I'm staring into the abyss, into a black void where there is nothing but death and infinity. There is no one in the shower, and I fear there is no one left alive anywhere. It's just me and this never-ending darkness, swallowing me whole. It's the lodge eating me alive.

Creak.

Behind me.

I whirl around to see my door at the end of the hall closing.

What the fuck?

I take off down the hall, running to my door, grabbing the handle.

It won't turn. I can't open it. I jiggle it repeatedly, but it won't budge.

I kept the key in the lock on the other side, and now someone is in there, not letting me in.

Hell, I don't even want to go in now.

Look through the keyhole , I think.

But I can imagine doing so. I imagine leaning down and looking through the keyhole and seeing that wolf's white eye staring back at me.

I back away. I could ask Lauren or Rav for help, but what would they do? I need to find David Chen and get the other key.

I decide to talk to Everly. She did say to come by her place to talk, even in the middle of the night.

I quickly run down the stairs and then out into the night.

The fog is thick, obscuring the moon, and I hurry along the boardwalk, careful to not slip on the damp planks, my slippers having no tread. I pull my robe closer, the cold, damp air biting at my skin. Everything is dark, save for a few lights here and there, the water as smooth and dark as obsidian glass.

I reach Everly's cabin and stop outside her door. I don't want to wake her up, especially not since she already had to deal with me yesterday, but I don't have a choice.

I rap on it quickly, my fingers hurting from the cold. God, it's May. It's supposed to be mild here. Why is it so cold?

Through the windows, I see a flashlight's beam moving erratically, and then the door opens, Everly on the other side with it in her hand, wearing silk pajamas, a sleep mask pushed up on her forehead.

"Sydney. What happened? Are you okay?"

She steps out and reaches for my head, patting it over, as if I hit it again.

"Someone's in my room," I tell her. "I heard someone outside my door. I went to investigate down the hall, but I guess it was a trick or something because they went in my room and locked my door. I can't get in, and the key is in there."

She frowns. "Someone is playing a prank on you?"

I fucking hope it's a prank , I think.

"One of the bad apples you talked about." I look down at the flashlight. "Is the power out everywhere?"

"Generator is down," she says. "Just for a couple of hours."

"Why?"

"Routine," she says, grabbing my hand. "Here, you must be freezing. Come inside, I'll light some candles."

She pulls me inside and shuts the door, then leads me across a dark room to a couch, putting a blanket on my legs. "Get warm and wait here. I'm going to go wake up David and get the spare key, and then we can all go over together."

She goes over to a candle on the coffee table, grabs a pack of matches, and lights it. Then she slips on her coat and shearling boots. "I'll be right back."

She leaves, the flashlight shining in the trees outside the window before it disappears.

I look around Everly's living room. It's at least a lot warmer here than it was in the lodge. In the flickering candlelight, scented like oranges and cloves, a Christmas smell, I make out modern furnishings and fancy art on the walls. It may be a small cabin like the others, but I have no doubt everything in here costs thousands of dollars.

"Hello."

I jump in my seat, letting out a yelp.

A man steps into the room, gathering his flannel robe around him.

Not just any man, but Michael Peterson, Everly's husband. It takes me a moment to recognize him. I haven't seen him around since that first day.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know we had a guest," he says, his voice monotone. "Where is Everly?"

"I was locked out of my room. She went to get David." I offer my hand. "I'm Sydney."

"Sydney," he says slowly, like he's savoring the word, even though his eyes are cold as always, his prominent brow creating the deepest shadows. He comes over to me and stands right in front of me, towering. "Yes, I recall Everly talking about you."

He doesn't shake my hand.

I awkwardly take it back, my cheeks hot. "Good things, I hope."

"Yes, yes, very good things." He takes a seat in the leather armchair across from me. "Tell me, Sydney, how are you?"

"Other than having to bug Dr. Johnstone in the middle of the night, and her husband, because I was locked out of my room? I'm fine."

"Oh, don't worry about me," he says. "I rarely sleep. The mind, you know." He taps the side of it. "It doesn't stop."

"I hear you on that."

He gives me a small smile, but it only makes me uneasy. He leans forward on his elbows and stares at me. Doesn't say anything else, just stares.

And me, well, I've never met a silence I can't bluster my way through.

"Really lovely home you have here," I say, looking around, though I'm not really seeing anything. He's still staring at me, and it's starting to make me nervous. When is Everly coming back?

"How long have you lived here for?" I ask for the sake of asking. "Do you have like a normal house somewhere else? I imagine you do."

He leans back in his chair, brow raised. "I'm not here as often as my wife. I am here when there is important work going on. Otherwise, you'll find me in Carmel. Carmel-by-the-sea. Have you ever been?"

"No," I tell him.

"But you're a Northern California girl. That surprises me."

How did he know where I was from? I guess Everly told him.

"Carmel is a rich area. I grew up poor," I say bluntly, just to see him squirm a bit.

He does no such thing. "Is that so? What a tragedy that is."

I shrug awkwardly. "It wasn't so bad. I had a nice grandmother."

"And your father, who died at sea," he says with a sigh.

My muscles tense. I give him a sharp look. "How did you know that?"

"I know everything about every student." He gives me a tight smile. "So much information in my brain, sometimes I get confused between who is who over the years. But yes, Sydney Denik, I know all about Sydney Denik. So much terrible loss. You must wonder why death is so fixated on you."

Okay, I really need Everly to come back now.

"I just chalk it up to bad fucking luck," I say, an edge to my voice warning him to stop talking.

He chuckles. It's an empty sound. "I see. Yes. Bad luck. That I can agree with. You are a woman of bad luck. And yet, you're also a miracle. You're here. You're one of the few who get to experience the foundation at its most raw state. You're getting a glimpse behind the curtain, passage beyond the velvet rope. You're going to set an example for the years to come."

"An example of what?" I ask.

But he only grins at me, his teeth very white, his eyes terribly unkind.

I don't want to be alone with this man.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Everly steps inside with David Chen in tow.

"Sydney," David says as I jump to my feet, so happy to leave. "Everly told me what happened. We went ahead and checked it out for you. There was no one in your room."

I shake my head vehemently. "No. There was. I know there was. I couldn't get in!"

"We believe you," Everly says, placing the key in my hand. "I think someone was playing a prank. But they knew they would be found out. They left before they could get in trouble." She lowers her voice, peering at me. "Do you know who it could have been?"

I want to tell her it's Clayton, and after my session with Kincaid, I feel like that's what she expects me to say. But I don't know if it was him or not. He's already so erratic I don't want to involve him if it wasn't.

"I have no idea," I tell her. I can tell she doesn't believe me.

"Well, it sounded like a harmless prank," Michael says. "Glad that all got sorted. I'm going to bed now. Nice meeting you, Syd."

He saunters off, and I look back at David and Everly. "So there really wasn't anyone there?"

No ghost standing in the corner, facing the wall Blair Witch style?

"No," David says. "And the key was back in the lock, on the inside, but it wasn't turned. Students do pranks sometimes, but I can understand why it would have been upsetting."

"Come on, I'll take you back," Everly says, guiding me to the door.

We step out into the fog, David leaving us to go check on the generators. Everly doesn't say much as we walk, pine needles crunching beneath our feet as she takes me along the tree-lined path behind the lodge instead of the boardwalk.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," I tell her.

She shoots me a soft smile, barely visible in the darkness. "I told you to. Day or night. I'm glad you did, otherwise you'd be sleeping in the hall. Or worse, having a fight with a fellow student. That's the last thing you need while you're here."

I swallow thickly and nod. "Yeah."

"I was meaning to talk to you anyway," she says.

"Oh, what about?"

"I got a phone call from Stanford."

I stop dead in my tracks.

I can only stare at her while she stops and faces me.

A cunning smile. "You sneaky little bitch."