Darker Still by Leanna Renee Hieber Page A

I was forgotten again. I couldn’t blame them, really. It was hard to know how to include me. People were often awkward about it. Even Father, and he loved me. But all that awkwardness? That’s one of the reasons it felt impossible for me to open my mouth. I didn’t want a strained conversation made worse by my fumbling attempts. Silence was simply a less stressful existence. But oh, such a lonely one.
    And at that, speak of the devil, I saw the very demon impostor walking along the park path. We were not far from the Metropolitan; thus, this area might be one of his haunts if he indeed strove to check in on his “other half.” It was good the girls weren’t paying attention to me, so they didn’t notice how my teacup suddenly began rattling on my saucer and how the color surely fled from my face as I felt my blood ice over and my heart lodge in my throat.
    I couldn’t look away from him. Inside the portrait, Denbury was utterly magnetic. Here in the real world, he remained all-consuming. And while he was still handsome in these dimensions, my shortness of breath upon seeing this Denbury was far less pleasant.
    In a suit so fine it was nearly gaudy, pinstriped and sveltely tailored, Denbury strolled with a crystal-topped walking stick, a fine hat, and a sprig of something on his lapel. He was every ounce a tall, broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, neatly trimmed, and perfect dandy. And ungodly beautiful. Save for the shimmering of his eyes when he looked from one way to another with an odd swiveling of his head and a strange reflection in his gaze that reminded me he’d become inhuman.
    And because it seems I’ve been crowned the queen of all things uncomfortable, of course the devil turned to stare right at me.
    He waved. Jauntily swinging his walking stick, he looked me up and down, just as he’d done at the Art Association. A glimmer of recognition flickered over his face, and he put his finger to his lips and winked at me, very amused with himself. The lascivious look made me want to retch.
    Unfortunately, his dashing figure would not go unnoticed. But while the real Denbury was engaging, charming, and indeed a bit of a flirt, this creature was a pale and paltry imitation. Even if he looked the same outwardly, he was a disquieting mockery of the man who’d held me in his arms. My strange entwined reality with Denbury felt more real to me in that moment than did the sun warming my cheek through the leaves.
    “Why, doesn’t that look like Denbury? Just like!” Maggie breathed, catching where I’d fixed my stare.
    “Oh, Mags, you see him everywhere we go, silly,” Elsie scoffed.
    “I don’t care who he is, just that he’s gorgeous,” Fanny breathed with a bit of a purr. She lifted a hand to wave, causing Elsie to giggle and bat her friend’s hand down. “And wealthy. Look at that suit!”
    “No, truly—” Maggie insisted.
    “Well, whoever he is, he seems to have eyes only for Natalie.” Fanny scowled, staring not at me but still at Denbury’s body. None of the girls could take her eyes off him, and certainly neither could I. And that oddly reflective gaze would not release me.
    “Honestly, he’s drinking her in like she’s some catch ,” Elsie gasped in shock, still not looking at me. Gazing at me to the last, Denbury’s devil half turned down another path and disappeared behind a flowering shrub before Maggie could determine his identity for certain.
    “To some, a deaf and dumb girl has her advantages,” Fanny offered. “I bet my father would give his eyeteeth to strike me mute.” Maggie’s face colored, and she admonished Fanny softly.
    I could no longer bear it. I clutched my notebook, the charcoal snapping into a stub in my hand with the furious pressure I exerted in writing: “I am not deaf and most certainly not dumb! ”
    I stood up, leaving the shawl and the parasol with Maggie, and strode away, nodding curtly to Mrs. Ford as I passed her. She nodded back with a bit of concerned