Page 11 of A Touch of Darkness
“I don’t understand, Nicole,” I say, the words rushing out in a panicked gasp. I hate how weak I sound. “Why would she just disappear? No one’s telling me anything. No one cares. I feel likeI’m in this secluded fucking castle, and I’m losing my mind.” My words rush out in one singular breath.
It’s been a full day since Lara didn’t come back to our dorm. It’s now after seven p.m. the next night. Twenty-four hours without her. With no contact. The mysterious, broody professor proved to be zero help. His demeanor was cold and unbothered. The guidance counselor had a kinder vibe, but he seems clueless. He said he filed a report and sent it up to administration. I wasn’t about to just sit around and wait for the higher ups to take things into their own hands and do something, so I took it upon myself to inform local law enforcement, who came out last night and took a report. The problem is that Lara is nineteen. She isn’t a minor. She has every right to “leave on her own,” as the police officers said, which apparently happens a lot at Blackthorne—people don’t like the place. Would’ve been nice to know before coming.
I know the truth, though.
Lara didn’t leave on her own.
She would never leave me.
Not after everything we’ve been through.
Nicole’s gaze is steady, but it doesn’t ease the knot tightening in my chest. “I don’t think the issue is that no one cares,” she says, her voice soft, clearly trying to calm me, but it’s no use. “You can’t force people to tell you what they don’t know. You need to be patient.”
Patient?
Patience is a foreign concept to me right now. I can’t sit idly by and wait. Not while I have no answers. Not while my sister is missing, gone without a trace, like a shadow swallowed by the dark that is touching every inch of this strange university.
Rebecca’s voice cuts in, quieter than Nicole’s as she adjusts how she’s sitting on Lara’s bed across from me. “You’re not seeing it, Sylvie,” she murmurs. “There are things here—thingsyou don’t know about. Blackthorne isn’t just a university. It’s... more.”
The words hit me like a jolt of electricity, like the spark that could ignite something much bigger than all of us. I glance at Rebecca, but her face is unreadable, her eyes distant, like she’s speaking from a place far beyond this room.
“What do you mean,more?” I ask, my heart racing. “What are you talking about?”
Nicole moves, her discomfort evident, and glances at Rebecca. Their expressions give it away before they even speak. They know something they aren’t telling me.
“You don’t understand yet, Sylvie,” Nicole says, her tone even softer now, like she’s trying to break something to me gently. “Not everything about Blackthorne is meant to be understood. Some things... aren’t meant to be found. Things happen here. With no explanation. I wish I could explain more but I’m bound to?—”
“You’reboundto what, Nicole?” I ask, then look at Rebecca. “Rebecca? Honestly. Why are we talking in fucking riddles?” I can’t stop myself. My mind is a whirl of questions, each one chasing the next in an endless cycle. “Where is Lara?” I press, louder than intended. “Why isn’t anyone helping me? I can’t just?—”
I stop, my voice catching in my throat as the door to my room slowly creaks open. I whip my head toward the sound, startled by the intrusion. I haven’t heard anyone approaching, and yet... here she is.
A girl—someone I’ve never seen before.
What the actual hell?
She’s tall, almost unnaturally so. Pale skin that seems to glow in the dim light of the room. Her light brown hair is gathered in a single braid down her back, loose strands falling out here and there, and her eyes—deep, dark, and full of something I can’tquite place—lock onto mine as though they’ve been waiting for me.
A shiver reverberates up my spine, and then down, dying out as she speaks.
“Can I talk to you, Sylvie?” Her voice is smooth, calm, too controlled for someone who’s just walked into a dorm room uninvited.
Nicole stands immediately, her posture stiffening like she’s ready to intervene. Rebecca’s eyes narrow, but neither of them say anything. It’s like they’re waiting for me to react. For me to decide if this person—this stranger—can be trusted.
I stand, slowly, unsure as to why, but something about the girl’s presence tugs at me. It’s an odd sensation—one I can’t explain. Something unseen pulls me toward her.
“You can’t just walk into someone’s dorm,” Nicole says, breaking the silence and crossing her arms over her chest.
I stand and place a hand on Nicole’s shoulder, turning to the girl in the doorway. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?” I ask, my voice hoarse, raw from everything I’ve been holding back. I should ask her why the hell she just walked right into my dorm. I should tell her to get out. But something inside of me twists—makes me feel like I need to talk to her. I can’t describe the feeling; it’s just an unease I can’t name.
She doesn’t flinch at the question, only steps farther into the room, like she belongs here, her eyes never leaving mine, as if we’re the only two here. I straighten my spine, unsure of why she’s here at all. Why she feels so comfortable walking in like she owns the place.
She smiles—just a miniscule curve of her lips—but it’s distant, almost…cold, uninviting. “My name is Isabel,” she says. Her gaze sharpens, zeroes in, and I swear her dark eyes are nearly glowing, like she’s sizing me up. “I think we need to talk.”
Nicole opens her mouth, but Rebecca beats her to it, her voice sharp and clear. “What do you want with Sylvie?” Rebecca asks, standing now, and a warmth surges through me at how defensive they both are. I’ve never had that before—aside from with Lara.
Isabel doesn’t react to Rebecca’s challenge. She doesn’t seem the least bit threatened. In all honestly, she acts like the other women aren’t even in the room with us, disregarding Rebecca’s question as she looks at me. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” she replies, her tone smooth, measured, rehearsed. She places her palms in the air as if to say she isn’t a threat. “I’m here to help you find what you’re looking for.”
I frown, my instincts prickling as my pulse ramps up. “And what exactly am I looking for?”
