More Questions Than Answers

*Hezzlie*

“A half a million dollars?”
I can’t believe anyone would pay that kind of money for me–for anything. But it makes absolutely no sense that Dr. Bolton has promised my mom that kind of money for me to come here for treatment for my mental condition–especially when this isn’t even a hospital.
Mom’s smile is bright, though. “Yes. They said I’ll get the check when I leave on Saturday morning.”
I’m about to say something else about the money when the wait of what she just said hits me in the gut. “Saturday? But that’s a couple of days before my birthday.”
“I know.” Mom lets out a sigh, and her smile fades. “I’m sorry, baby. They said I couldn’t stay for that, but we’ll throw a party for you Friday night before I leave, okay?”
My forehead puckers as I try to understand why they wouldn’t want my mother here for my eighteenth birthday. Of course, the fact that she’s here at all is something to be happy about since I didn’t see her for over two months while I was in Peripheral.
Two months, one week, six days….
“Honey? Did you hear me?”
I try to shake the thoughts of how horrible it was in Peripheral out of my mind and rewind so I can hear what Mom said, but it’s not there. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I asked what you want for your birthday. I can buy you a wonderful present this year.” Her smile is back.
I take a deep breath, but I have no answer for that. Before the dreams started, I was like any other typical teenager. I had a list of items I really wanted. Money has always been tight for us, so I didn’t really think I’d ever get any of those things. But I’d see other kids walking around with their Stanley’s, their AirPods, and their Tripp jeans and wish maybe I could have a little bit of that one day.
But now… I have nothing to ask for. I glance around this gorgeous room and remember the clothes hanging in the closet. Wilma had told me that she’d happily order me anything else I may need–that this was just a start. I’m so used to wearing sweats, the jeans I have on are a little uncomfortable, though the sweater is so soft, it feels like a cloud wrapped around me. I have all the clothes I could want or need. I don’t know if I’m allowed to have a phone or any kind of technology. I don’t know how long I’ll even be here.
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “You could just bake me some cookies or something.”
Mom’s eyebrows raise. “I finally have money to buy you something, and there’s nothing you want?”
With a shrug, I tell her, “I have everything, Mom. It would be great if you could come and visit more often.”
“I’ll ask if you can have a cell phone, and if you can, I’ll get you the best one.” I see that twinkle in her eyes as she comes up with a plan. “Then, I can time your face every night.”
I burst out laughing at her butchering of the word FaceTime. My mom isn’t so old that she shouldn’t know these things, but she works so hard, she rarely has time to keep up with trends.
“What’s so funny in here?”
The door swings open, and a large man with dark curly hair and bright green eyes walks in. I’ve never seen him before, and I’m alarmed.
Mom is not. She practically leaps out of her chair and crosses the room to hug him. His embrace seems genuine, if he is a bit taken aback, as he hugs her and smiles at me.
“Dean! Just the person we needed to see. Hezzlie tells you the two of you haven’t met yet.” Mom grabs his hand and tugs him over to me.
Awkwardly, I stand and offer my hand. He takes it, and my hand basically disappears in his grasp. I’m not sure I’ve ever been in the presence of a man so large. He’s probably not that much taller than Rowan–maybe an inch or two–but his shoulders are so broad, I think he could wrap my entire body around his neck and wear me like a winter scarf.
I imagine he could take my skull in his palm and crush it if he wanted to. Thankfully, he is all smiles and seems like a jovial guy.
“Hez!” he says, squeezing my hand a little too tight. “Finally we meet. I heard so much about you on the way here.”
My face instantly flickers to bright red like a bulb on a Christmas tree. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“No, no, all good stuff.”
“Please, have a seat.” Mom keeps grinning at him, and I’m beginning to understand why.
She did this once at a basketball game. She saw a “cute boy” she thought I should take an interest in and invited him to sit with us. She bought him popcorn. She asked about his classes. I tried telling her that he didn’t swing my way, but she didn’t care. Now, as Dean sits down to join us, I feel her willing us to sit closer to one another.
I don’t know this man. I have no idea how old he is, if he’s married, if he’s a serial killer. Why she thinks he might be interested in a scrawny, crazy girl who won’t even be legal for another week is beyond me.
But then I think about the story she told me earlier–about my father–and maybe the pieces start to come together a little more.
Mom and Dean chit chat a little before she asks him if I can have a phone. For the first time since he sat down, his expression changes. He’s not upset or irritated, but he looks perplexed. “I’ll have to ask,” he says in a tone that tells me the answer is no.
“Please let me know,” Mom tells him. “I’m staying in that large green room on the other side of the stairwell.”
“All the way over there?” Dean questions. But then he changes his tone a bit. “That’s a very nice room.”
“It is, but Hezzlie’s got such a lovely view. Is that a castle?” Mom points at the structure I’ve been trying to get a clear view of for hours.
“It is.” Dean clears his throat. “That’s Castle Darksky. It’s in the Darksky kingdom, which is further away than it looks from here.”
“Darksky? Oooh, ominous.” Mom laughs. “I guess I didn’t realize we had left our country and entered another land.”
“It’s all a little complicated.” Dean isn’t going to give us a lot of details, and I don’t plan on pressing him. I have a feeling he’s not allowed to tell us anything without someone’s express permission.
Fucking King Rowan….
“What is the name of this land? Is it also a kingdom?” Mom asks.
Dean nods. “Yes, this is Moonstryker,” he says more confidently. He talks for a few minutes about how the Moonstryker family has always ruled here, how they broke off from Darksky a couple of hundred years ago, blah blah blah. None of it seems important to me.
Mom is fishing, though. She asks him more about Darksky. Specifically if there are a lot of, “handsome, rich men” there. She wants to know if Dean has any idea who my father might be.
He immediately shuts her down. “No, not over there. We have a lot of rich people in our kingdom. The Moonstrykers provide a lot of opportunities for their people to create well, The Darksky family is very greedy. They don’t share very well.”
“Interesting.” Mom scratches her head, and I see her trying to determine how to ask about these wealthy men in Dean’s lands when Dr. Bolton walks in.
I think I see a flicker of relief on Dean’s face as he stands. Mom, of course, runs over to meet Dr. Bolton and gives him a hug before he even has his name out of his mouth.
I don’t get up. I have a lot of questions for Dr. Bolton, too, but they’re not the kind I’ll be asking in front of my mother or Dean.
“I need to talk to Hezzlie in private.” Dr. Bolton’s eyes meet mine for just a moment before they flicker away.
“Oh, honey, it’s been so good to see you.” Mom flings herself at me, and I give her another tight hug. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
“Okay.” I force a smile and wave at her as she disappears. Dean says his goodbyes and walks out with her, and I let out a sigh. It’s not like I can just wander over to her room.
Dr. Bolton takes the chair next to me, and I know this isn’t going to be a normal therapy session. “We have some things to discuss.”
“Yeah we do.” I take a deep breath and ask him, “What the fuck is going on?”