Page 11 of Wednesday
"The groundskeepers will add more soil tomorrow," Morrow said. "They always do. They blame it on air pockets around the casket."
We walked back toward my cottage in silence. The sky had lightened to pale blue, the first birds beginning their morning songs. Morrow seemed less monstrous in the growing light. Still inhuman and wrong, but somehow less threatening.
"The development plans," he said suddenly. "They must be stopped."
I glanced at him. "What can I do? I'm just the night guard."
"Attend the public forum with Winters. Speak against the development." Morrow's elongated fingers flexed at his sides. "I cannot appear at council meetings, for obvious reasons."
The absurd image of Morrow addressing the city council made me laugh despite myself. A short, sharp sound quickly swallowed by the morning air.
"I'll do what I can," I promised. "But not just for you. I need this job.” I gestured to the cottage visible in the distance. "If the cemetery goes, I’m back in my car."
"Our interests align, then." Morrow stopped at the edge of a large oak's shadow. His mouth curved into that unsettling smile. "Sleep well, Carmen Ruiz. Dream of memories not your own."
He melted into the shadow of the oak tree, his form seeming to fold impossibly upon itself until nothing remained but darkness. I stood watching the empty space where he had been, wondering at the strange turn my life had taken. In my pocket, the silver locket he had given me pressed against my thigh, a tangible reminder of our tentative truce.
I took it out, turning it over in my palm. The clasp was stiff with age, but it opened under gentle pressure. Inside was a tiny portrait of a young woman, her black and white features faded.
I closed the locket and slipped it back into my pocket, suddenly exhausted. As I continued toward the cottage, I realized I no longer saw Morrow as just a monster. Though he was certainly that. He was something more complex. I wanted to know more about him and the things he could do. I wanted to know everything.
If my curiosity was stronger than my horror, what did that make me? As I closed the cottage door behind me, I did not have an answer.
Chapter Five
Iwoke with a gasp, my body damp with sweat despite the cool morning air drifting through the cracked window. For several disorienting seconds, I could not distinguish which memories were mine and which belonged to Helena Ross. Her grandson's college graduation. Her husband's funeral. The first time she saw the ocean. These fractured moments clung to my consciousness like cobwebs, refusing to be brushed away.
I rolled onto my side, trying to ignore the lingering heat low in my belly. The dreams had been... intense. Helena's memories of her husband had blended with disturbing images of Morrow. His inhuman grace, his needle teeth stained with blood, his blackened nails trailing across deathly pale skin.
What was happening to me?
Three days ago, I had been homeless and desperate, taking this job out of necessity. Now I owned a dead woman's locket and had dreamt of a monster with something dangerously close to desire. My head was a mess.
The clock read 10:37 AM. I had slept through my alarm, but I did not feel any less tired. I forced myself out of bed and into the shower, turning the water to its coldest setting. The shock against my overheated skin provided some clarity.
This had to stop. Whatever strange fascination I had developed with Morrow, I needed to regain control. I would do my job, keep our arrangement professional, and avoid any other... interactions.
Winters knocked at noon, his wire-rimmed glasses slightly askew as always. He carried a stack of paperwork.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Ruiz," he said, glancing past me into the cottage. "I trust you're settling in well?"
"Yes, thank you." I stepped aside to let him enter, suddenly conscious of how empty the cottage was of personal touches. Just my few clothes, my laptop, and Morrow's locket on the kitchen counter. I slipped it into a drawer when Winters approached to set down the papers.
"Any issues during last night's patrol?" he asked.
I thought of Morrow's teeth sinking into Helena Ross's flesh, of his blood-smeared fingers touching mine, of decades of memories flooding my mind.
"No," I said. "Everything was quiet."
"Excellent." Winters seemed genuinely relieved. "I've highlighted the sections of the regulations you should familiarize yourself with. Standard procedures, really."
I nodded, barely listening as he explained the paperwork. My thoughts drifted to nightfall, to the moment I could walk the cemetery paths again. Would Morrow appear? Would he offer to share more memories? Would I have the strength to refuse if he did?
"Ms. Ruiz?" Winters was looking at me expectantly.
"Sorry," I said quickly. "I'm still a bit tired. Night shifts take some getting used to."
"Quite understandable." Winters nodded, but something in his eyes suggested he did not completely believe me. "Well, I should let you rest before your shift. Call the office if you need anything."
