Page 38 of Haunting the Deep

His calm wavers. “You do not know what is happening any better than I do.”

“I’ll figure it out with the girls!”

He stands, looking more agitated than I’ve ever seen him. “I will leave you, then.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t want him to go, but there isn’t a chance I’m going to admit that after he offered no explanation and a kiss apology.

Elijah blinks out.

Ilie in my bed staring blankly at my homework and refusing to look at the bedroom furniture Elijah designed for his sister. Our conversation from earlier plays on a loop in my head. Where has he been all this time? Why didn’t he say something if he was here?

I smack my hand down on my bed.No. I’m not doing this. He’s here. I don’t care. That’s it.

A hand touches my arm. I look up quickly.

Ada.“Go away,” I say.

“Mum always told me that if you come across someone sad and you do not try to make them smile, then you have disgraced your own humanity,” Ada says in her British accent. “ ‘Everyone deserves happiness,’ she says.”

“I’m not sad. But I’m also not in a smiling mood,” I say.

“We shall see.”

My bed moves as Ada steps over me and plops down. The ruffles on her dress billow before settling in layers around her legs. Ada puts her head on my other pillow, her hand tucked under her cheek, so that we’re looking at one another.

“Is it a boy?” Her expression is serious, and her little eyebrows are furrowed. She’s so genuine about it that I almost do smile.

“What makes you think it’s a boy?”

“My sister did just what you are doing after she found out we were moving to America. She said that she had no friends in Florida and never would.” Ada nods her head against her hand. “But it turned out she was just upset to leave a boy. Well, that is what her diary said, anyway.”

I lift an eyebrow. “You read her diary?”

Ada’s eyes widen, like it’s me who said the shocking thing. “She was crying. No one was doing anything to help her, so it only seemed right that I take matters into my own hands. In life-and-death situations, it is acceptable to read other people’s diaries.”

“When you put it like that, it makes perfect sense.”

“Exactly.” Ada giggles, mischievous satisfaction dancing in her eyes. “I saw it, you know.”

“Saw what?”

“Your smile.”

“Did not.”

“Did so. It was small, but it was there.”

Now I do smile, but Ada disappears.

There are footsteps in the hallway moving closer to my room.

“Sam?” my dad says just outside my door. “Jaxon’s here.”

Jaxon? I look at my phone: 8:01 p.m. Crapola.

My dad knocks. “Sam?”

“Tell him I’ll be right there.”