Page 98 of Suncatcher

Pearl was going to be sick in a new way.

Pearl should have told Driz the truth earlier.

She needed to hold Driz. Not only to make sure she was physically well, but to comfort her. Pearl was shit at comforting, but she could try. She hated the thought of Driz out there alone. Again. Because her mother had shot her. Again.

Driz had told Pearl she was worth it. But how many bullets would she endure before she realized Pearl wasn’t?

Driz sat on the bluff and watched the faint light of town.

Two nights had passed since she’d left. Since she had been shot the most recent time.

As a moth was drawn to fire, she returned to this spot each night. She hadn’t ventured closer, and wasn’t certain she would ever again. But being too far away filled her with agitation and a deep longing. So here she sat, trapped and miserable.

She’d seen a rider coming toward her last night. She thought it might have been Pearl, and wasn’t certain she was strong enough to turn away if she saw her. So Driz had fled instead of finding out.

It was too tempting to simply forgive everything and allow Pearl to find her. To crawl back, begging for the scraps of Pearl’s attention.

That dismissive, staying hand repeated in Driz’s mind and hurt worse than any bullet. Such a simple gesture. Driz had wanted to run to Pearl. To hold her. To touch her.

Pearl hadn’t.

Driz had never felt so different. So far from her.

Driz returned to the grave of her birth mother, but Oak must have beaten her to it during the day and re-covered the skeleton. Driz dug it up again. She also took all the stones collected in the strange shrine and scattered them through the surrounding valleys. If the human attempted to rebury the bones, Driz would simply take them away as well. She would move them somewhere Oak could not get to. Driz found herself strangely possessive of them. They were her bones now.

Pearl had known Oak had killed Driz’s mother. And she hadn’t told Driz. Why?

Driz wished she knew the whole story. Why had Oak done it? How had she met Driz? Driz didn’t remember meeting her, but she did have that strange sense that they had. Was their meeting the reason why Driz was so different from her kind? The cause of her fascination with humans?

She wished she could ask Oak. But getting shot hurt, and she’d rather not wear another scar if she didn’t have to. She was already ugly enough.

Pearl stayed at Molly’s for as long as she could. Sheriff Oak came by, but Pearl wasn’t ready to speak to her yet. She helped Molly with her work, doing some of the basic stitching for her. The limited amounts Molly would allow her to do. She had high standards, as she should.

The fever and stuffiness subsided by the end of the next day, and she could function normally once more, apart from a lingering cough. And the constant ache in her chest she didn’t think was related, and which she stubbornly ignored.

People talked. When Pearl ventured out to Macey’s General for some flour for Molly, she noticed the stares as well. They’d seen a dark shape over the bluffs last night. Pearl’s insides fluttered and knotted.

As soon as it was dusk, she took her horse, whom she was relieved had been found by the sheriff’s search parties for her, and rode toward the ravine. But no one waited. No beautifully terrifying goyle.

It was strange to stand in what she now considered their place without Driz. Pearl waited, vaguely hopeful, but Driz didn’t come.

Pearl shouldn’t have expected her to. But a part of her had.

Pearl had screwed up. Again. The thought of it costing her Driz made the panic in her chest expand.

If Driz wasn’t here, it meant she didn’t want to see Pearl. That truth grated against her skin, but she would give Driz space. She didn’t have much choice.

The third night after she finished her pathetic waiting adventure, her mother finally cornered her. Pearl needed a fresh pair of clothes and snuck into the house, planning to be in and out in moments, but of course Sheriff Oak heard. When Pearl reached the bottom of the darkened stairs, an unmistakable figure blocked the door.

“We need to talk,” Sheriff Oak said.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Pearl.”

“Sheriff.”

Her mother let out a long sigh. “Let’s start with a drink.”