Willow shakes her head adamantly. “I won’t. But . . . Layla isn’t going to stay here willingly. Not after tonight.”
I walk back toward the house and away from the car. “I know.”
This is the moment I truly question myself as a boyfriend, a caretaker, a human being. I don’t know why I feel so strongly about staying, or why I feel so strongly about keeping Layla here with me. My behavior right now goes against every moral I have, but I’ve never felt this kind of certainty in my gut.
My gut is telling me this terrible decision will pay off when it’s all said and done.
Which means this is the moment I’ll likely regret the most.
THE INTERVIEW
“I’d like to speak to Willow now,” the man says. He doesn’t stop the tape recorder. He just stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to go upstairs and untie Layla.
When I make it up to the bedroom, I can tell Willow is already inside of her.
“He makes me nervous,” she says.
“He seems harmless.”
“He’s just so ambiguous. It’s been a one-sided conversation all night. He hasn’t offered up anything.”
I don’t respond to that because I’ve known him just as long as Willow has, so I can’t vouch for his character. But what’s the worst that can happen? He doesn’t have answers? We’re already at that point, so it’s not like he can make it any worse.
Willow is quiet as we descend the stairs. When we walk into the kitchen, he’s leaning back in his chair, watching Willow intently. He’s only been in her physical presence for a few seconds tonight, when she stopped Layla from opening the front door. He’s looking at her like he’s examining her from the inside out. Willow takes a seat across from him.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the man.
He rests his hand on the table, rapping against it with his fingertips. “What’s your first memory of this place?”
Willow shrugs a little. “I don’t have a specific first memory.”
“You just feel like you’ve always been here?” he asks.
She nods. “Yes. I mean, I know I haven’t. But I don’t remember not being here, if that makes sense.”
“Of course it makes sense,” he says gently. “It’s just like birth. Humans know they were born, but they don’t remember it. This is no different.”
Willow seems to relax a little with his comment.
The man leans forward, eyeing her closely. “Leeds tells me you have memories of your past life.”
“I have memories that belong to both Layla and Sable, but only when I’m inside of her body.”
“What memories do you have when you aren’t inside Layla?”
“Just the memories I’ve made here.”
The man nods in understanding, still studying her intently.
“But I have feelings,” Willow adds. “Even when I’m not in a body.”
“What kind of feelings?”
Willow’s eyes cut to mine for a moment; then she looks down at her hands. “When Leeds first got here—I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. But it was like I was relieved to see him. It was the first time I remember feeling anything good.”
“Do you think you were relieved to see him specifically, or just people in general? Could the feeling have been because you were lonely?”
Willow shakes her head. “No. I was relieved because I felt like . . . I’d missed him. I felt nothing for Layla. Only Leeds.”
“And you felt this before you were in Layla’s body for the first time?”
Willow nods.
I had no idea she felt anything at all when we first arrived. But it means very little. Sable thought she had feelings for me when she was alive, so it makes a little sense that those feelings would carry over into whatever place she’s in right now.
Willow rubs the bandages on her wrists. I notice the man’s eyes drop to Willow’s hands. He stares at them. “How long have you been keeping Layla captive?” he asks.
“Captive is a strong term,” I interject.
The man turns his attention to me. “What other term would you suggest?”
I try to think of an alternative, but I can’t. He’s right. We’re holding Layla here against her will, and there’s no soft way to describe that. “We tied her up shortly after I messaged you and asked for your help.”
“Do you untie her when Willow takes over?” he asks me.
“Yes, but I don’t think we can use her much longer. She’s only slept a few hours over the last few days.”
“What does Layla think is happening?” He looks at Willow. “Does she know about you yet?”
“Leeds tried to explain to her why she couldn’t leave, but it still didn’t calm her down. So . . . we thought the best way to get her to understand would be to show her.”
The man turns to me this time. “And how did you do that?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I don’t know what to call her now. Willow or Sable.
Sable seems like an insult. It’s hard for the name to even pass through my head without it consuming me in a wave of negative emotions.
Even now, knowing what I know, the Sable I knew and the Willow I know still seem like two separate people. Maybe Willow is right, and in this realm, she’s just Willow. She’s not who she was in her past life.
I’m going to continue calling her Willow because I can’t bring myself to refer to her as Sable.
When we walked back into the house earlier, I came straight to the laptop and opened up the messages in the forum. I typed: We need your help.
I didn’t type anything else in the message. The man already somehow knows where we’re staying, so if he’s able to come, he’ll come. And if he needs more information, he’ll ask. I don’t want to type too many details.
“She’s going to be hysterical when she wakes up,” Willow says. “You might want to get her medication out of the car in case she needs it.”
“Good idea.” I return to the car and grab both suitcases. When I shut the trunk, I look up at the house. I can see Willow through the huge bay windows in the kitchen. She’s pacing back and forth, biting her thumbnail nervously. I watch her for a moment, wondering what’s going to happen when Layla does wake up.
How am I going to explain this to her?
Do I tell her the truth?
I’m not sure I can convince her that everything that happened tonight was just a dream, and I’m not looking forward to telling her that I intend to stay in this house even longer. I’ll just figure it out as I go along. That’s all I can do at this point. I can’t just call up people I know and ask for advice on how to properly hold your girlfriend against her will so your ghost friend can use her body.
This is definitely a play-it-by-ear situation.
When I’m back inside the house with the suitcases, I turn on the security system. Then Willow follows me upstairs. We unpack the suitcases and try to replace everything just the way it was before I packed them. If I’m going to try to convince Layla that she dreamt everything that happened earlier, it’ll need to appear like we never packed up to leave in the first place.