"What happened to your forehead?" she asked, reaching for him.
"I don't know," he snapped, pushing her hand away, hard enough that she stumbled back. "I don't know where it came from."
He seemed more unsettled by it than Luce was, which surprised her. It was just a small scrape.
Footsteps on the gravel behind them. Both of them spun around.
"I told you, I haven't seen her," Molly was saying, shrugging off Cam's hand as they ascended the graveyard's hill.
"Let's go," Daniel said, sensing everything she felt—she was almost certain that he could—even before she shot him a nervous look.
She knew where they were going as soon as she began to follow him. Behind the church-gymnasium and into the woods. Just like she'd expected his jump rope posture before she ever saw him working out. Just like she'd known about that cut before she saw it.
They walked at just the same pace, with steps just the same length. Their feet hit the grass at the same time, every time, until they reached the forest.
"If you come to a place more than once with the same person," Daniel said, almost to himself, "I guess it isn't yours alone anymore."
Luce smiled, honored as she realized what Daniel was saying: that he'd never been to the lake before with anyone else. Only her.
As they trekked through the woods, she felt the coolness of the shade beneath the trees on her bare shoulders. It smelled the same as ever, as most coastal Georgian forests did: an oaky mulch scent that Luce used to associate with the shadows, but that she now connected to Daniel. She shouldn't feel safe anywhere after what had just happened to Todd, but next to Daniel, Luce felt like she was breathing easy for the first time in days.
She had to believe he was bringing her back here because of the way he'd skipped out on her so suddenly the last time. Like they needed a second try to get it right. What had started out feeling like their first kind of almost-date had turned into Luce feeling pitifully stood up. Daniel must have known that and felt bad about his stormy exit.
They reached the magnolia tree that marked the lookout point on the lake. The sun left a golden trail on the water as it edged over the forest to the west. Everything looked so different in the evening. The whole world seemed to glow.
Daniel leaned up against the tree and watched her watch the water. She moved to stand beside him under the waxy leaves and the flowers, which should have been dead and gone by this time of year, but looked as pure and fresh as spring blooms. Luce breathed in the musky scent, and felt closer to Daniel than she had any reason to—and loved that the feeling seemed to come from out of nowhere.
"We're not exactly dressed for a swim this time," he said, pointing at Luce's black dress.
She fingered the delicate eyelet hem at her knees, imagining her mom's shock if she ruined a good dress because she and a boy wanted to dive into a lake. "Maybe we could just stick our feet in?"
Daniel motioned toward the steep red rock path that led down to the water. They climbed over thick, tawny reeds and lake grass and used the twisted stumps of live oak trees to keep their balance. Here, the shore of the lake turned to pebbles. The water looked so still, she felt she almost could have walked on it.
Luce kicked off her black ballet flats and skimmed the lily-padded surface with her toes. The water was cooler than it had been the other day. Daniel picked a strand of lake grass and started braiding its thick stem.
He looked at her. "You ever think about getting out of here—"
"All the time," she said with a groan, assuming he meant that he did, too. Of course, she wanted to get as far away from Sword & Cross as possible. Anyone would. But she tried at least to keep her mind from whirling out of control, toward fantasies of her and Daniel plotting an escape.
"No," Daniel said, "I mean, have you really considered going somewhere else? Asking your parents for a transfer? It's just… Sword & Cross doesn't seem like the best fit for you."
Luce took a seat on a rock opposite Daniel and hugged her knees. If he was suggesting that she was a reject among a student body full of rejects, she couldn't help feeling a little insulted.
She cleared her throat. "I can't afford the luxury of seriously considering someplace else. Sword & Cross is" — she paused—"pretty much a last-ditch effort for me."
"Come on," Daniel said.
"You wouldn't know—"
"I would." He sighed. "There's always another stop, Luce."
"That's very prophetic, Daniel," she said. She could feel her voice rising. "But if you're so interested in getting rid of me, what are we doing? No one asked you to drag me out here with you."
"No," he said. "You're right. I meant that you're not like people here. There's got to be a better place for you."
Luce's heart was beating quickly, which it usually did around Daniel. But this was different. This whole scene was making her sweat.
"When I came here," she said, "I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't tell anyone about my past, or what I'd done to land myself at this place."
Daniel dropped his head into his hands. "What I'm talking about has nothing to do with what happened with that guy—"
"You know about him?" Luce's face crumpled. No. How could Daniel know? "Whatever Molly told you…"
But she knew it was too late. Daniel had been the one to find her with Todd. If Molly had told him anything about how Luce had also been implicated in another mysterious fiery death, she couldn't begin to imagine explaining it.
"Listen," he said, gripping her hands. "What I'm saying, it has nothing to do with that part of your past."
She found that hard to believe. "Then does it have to do with Todd?"
He shook his head. "It has to do with this place. It has to do with things…"
Daniel's touch jostled something in her mind. She started thinking about the wild shadows she'd seen that night. The way they'd changed so much since she'd arrived at this school—from a sneaky, unsettling threat to now almost-ubiquitous, full-blown terrors.
She was crazy—that must be what Daniel sensed about her. Maybe he thought she was pretty, but he knew deep down she was seriously disturbed. That was why he wanted her to leave, so he wouldn't be tempted to get involved with someone like her. If that was what Daniel thought, he didn't know the half of it.
"Maybe it has to do with the weird black shadows I saw the night Todd died?" she said, hoping to shock him. But as soon as she'd said the words, she knew her intent was not to freak Daniel out even more… it was to finally tell someone. It wasn't like she had much more to lose.
"What did you say?" he asked slowly.
"Oh, you know," she said, shrugging now, trying to downplay what she'd just said. "Once a day or so, I get these visits from these dark things I call the shadows."
"Don't be cute," Daniel said curtly. And even though his tone stung, she knew he was right. She hated how falsely nonchalant she sounded, when really she was all wound up. But should she tell him? Could she? He was nodding for her to go on. His eyes seemed to reach out and pull the words from inside her.
"It's gone on for the last twelve years," she admitted finally, with a deep shudder. "It used to just be at night, when I was near water or trees, but now…" Her hands were shaking. "It's practically nonstop."
"What do they do?"
She would have thought he was just humoring her, or trying to get her to go on so he could crack a joke at her expense, except his voice had gone hoarse and his face was drained of color.