Comes the Night by Norah Wilson

  Chapter 33

  Night of Nights

  Maryanne

  Maryanne awoke all at once.

  She’d been dreaming. But already the vision was wisping away—a railway line, blue balloons, two old women conspiring as they stood a ways down the tracks. They’d cast cautious glances her way.

  Maryanne didn’t even try to peddle her mind back to chase that curious dream. Instead, instantly, she pushed herself more awake. More alert. She’d heard a strange sound from above her. A snap or a crack of some kind.

  She was almost sure of it. Could still hear the echo of it in her mind.

  She looked around the gloom of the room, waiting and blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Brooke half grumbled/half turned in her sleep as if something had invaded her dreams too, though not enough to wake her. Within moments, she was snoring again.

  Maryanne sat up, brushing her long hair back from her face. She snapped on the low-wattage bedside lamp and tilted the shade away from sleeping Brooke and over toward Alex’s bed.

  Alex wasn’t in it.

  Worry crept into her thoughts.

  Where the heck was Alex?

  They’d all been out so late, traveled so far. Alex had been just as exhausted as Brooke and Maryanne.

  So why wasn’t she in her bed? Had she gotten up to go somewhere and cry alone? Like the attic?

  That was definitely a possibility.

  Alex had always seemed lost somehow. Well, at least since Maryanne had known her. Either all alone or suffocating in the world. Those sad eyes had stayed with Maryanne since the day they’d met. But lately Alex had seemed even deeper in thought. Strangely, especially whenever they cast back in. Why? What haunted her so? Was that what pulled her out of her bed tonight?

  But what if she were sick? Or hurt somewhere and couldn’t cry out? What if something was wrong? Desperately wrong!

  She caught the train of her thoughts and slammed on the brakes. Those were Jason thoughts. All the worries that raced through her mind now—all the frightening scenarios that she imagined—rose up to swamp her now simply because Jason had died. Because of what she’d done.

  But what if it wasn’t just about Jason?

  What if the worries were founded? If something happened to Alex, it would be her fault all over again. Dear Lord, she couldn’t own another death...

  “Brooke,” Maryanne whispered. She tilted the lamp to shine on Brooke’s sleeping face.

  No answer. Not even a break in her roommate’s snoring.

  She whispered again, louder, more urgently. “Brooke... Brooke, are you awake?”

  Not so much as a murmur.

  Maryanne reached down to the floor for a slipper and flung it at her.

  “Uhhh! What the fu—”

  “Alex is missing!”

  Squinting and blinking, Brooke leaned up on one elbow to look over at Alex’s bed. “Where is she?”

  Maryanne rolled her eyes. “I don’t know where she is. That’s why she’s missing.”

  Brooke thumped her head back down on the pillow. “Jesus, Maryanne,” she said. “She’s probably down the hall to the bathroom.”

  “I thought I heard something. Maybe from the attic. Maybe she’s up there?”

  “Then maybe she is. So what?”

  “By herself?”

  Brooke half sat up again. “We’ve all been up there by ourselves.”

  Maryanne couldn’t argue with that. But still... it didn’t feel right. She bit down on her lip before she asked. “Think we should go look for her?

  “Look,” Brooke said, groaning. “You know Alex. If we go up there and she’s in one of her dark moods or reading Connie’s diary again, she’ll be pissed to think we’re checking up on her. Or spying on her. Hell, Maryanne, she’s not a baby!”

  For one gut-wrenching moment, Maryanne thought she was going to puke. She could feel the sweat on her neck, between her breasts, gathering on her stomach. “No,” she said, softly. “She’s not a baby.”

  “She probably just needs some time alone. This stuff with Connie... it’s freaky enough for us, but you know how close Alex feels to her. How possessive she is of Connie... She just needs her space. Now go back to sleep. More importantly, let me go back to sleep.”

  Brooke turned to face the wall.

  Maryanne clicked off the light. She pulled the covers up again and lay back down.

  Brooke was probably right. She was probably just worrying over nothing. Maryanne closed her eyes again and almost instantly felt the blessed touch of sleep. Everything would be fine in the morning.

  Like it was with Jason?

  Her eyes flew wide open. She would not sleep again this night.