Page 24 of Haunt Me

"Raven?"

Her name breaks on the way out.

Nothing answers.

The room warms again so slowly I almost convince myself it never changed. I stare at the bottle in my hand. The explanation comes too easily because my mind is starving for one.

Grief makes people see things.

Whiskey makes it worse.

I put the cap back on with hands that won’t steady and place the bottle back on the shelf exactly where I found it.

By the time I leave the den, Knox is waiting in the hall.

"You okay?"

The question is so absurd I almost laugh.

I look at him.

Maybe something on my face answers for me, because his expression goes still.

"Wolf."

"I need air."

"I'll come with you."

"No."

"That's not up for⁠—"

"No."

This time, the word has enough edge to stop him.

For a second, we stand in the hallway, both of us breathing like a fight’s already started.

Then Jon's voice comes from the kitchen. "Let him go, Knox."

Knox doesn’t look away from me.

"Five minutes," he says.

I don’t answer. I push past him, through the living room, out the front door, and onto the porch.

The cold hits my face like a slap. I look out at the yard, at the cars, the bikes, the winter afternoon beginning to lean toward dark.

Behind me, the house holds everyone who’s trying to keep me alive.

In my mouth, I still taste whiskey.

And somewhere beneath all of it, a thought settles with the quiet certainty of a door closing.

One hour is all I promised them.

Samuel