killed her
heart. Me . No one else. It was me!â he yells into the woods.
âSam â Sam it was so much more than
you! You can only do so much! She carried so much pain. You were the sunshine
for her!â I try to console him.
He buries his fingers in his dark, soft
hair and rocks back and forth.
Shhhhhhhhhhhh, says the wind .
Itâs okay, Sam. Itâs all right.
I move toward him.
âItâs okay⦠Sam, itâs all right,â I echo.
Sam wraps his arms around me and I feel
his damp face on my neck.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Itâs all right. Everything is all
right...
Samâs mouth finds mine as the wind
teases in our ears and plays its bone violin against the trees.
The ancient secrets whisper to one
another.
Yesâ¦.yes...itâs all right. Soon it
will be spring. Soon all will grow.
Soon the dirt will be fertile and
filled.
Samâs hands tighten against my back. My
fingers find his hair.
We are both lost. We need something to
hold onto.
And itâs all right.
Isnât it?
Yesssssssssssss.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Sam leans me back into the dirt.
I find the buttons of his shirt. My face
is wet with tears â his and my own.
Give him peaccccceee.
Our kiss is deep, deeper than the dark.
Itâs right that this is happening here.
He pushes my skirt up and swallows my
sighs.
This is so good. So right.
Oh, Lilaâ¦
"Yes..." I whisper with the
wind.
Oh, Samâ¦
Is it our own writhing shadows that
dance against the watchful stone tablets? Or others?
We are one, our sounds gently drowning
out the wind and trees, echoed by something wild in the distance.
The wind sighs back at us â sounding
out words.
My eyes open lazily and it is only in
that momentâs bliss that I see him:
The Blacksmith has watched over all.
I cannot see his face â but I know
he is smiling.
Chapter 13
I settle in for bed after a long shower and
a longer night writing notes for my book.
My hotel is comfortable and modest. It
won’t be long before I find another place. I have savings.
From the fire.
Stop it.
We don’t talk about that.
Finally under the covers, I realize I am
exhausted.
I hope I dream of Sam.
Lila, don’t be ridiculous.
Still—
No.
* * *
It is dark.
I am there again.
I can’t stay away.
It is the Blacksmith that leads me here.
This way, Lila .
You want to know?
Yes, I say.
Yes, I do.
You want to understand?
Yes.
You must dig.
That is the only way.
I kneel before Ainsley’s grave.
Dig, Lila .
In my nightgown, under the unblinking
eyes of the night creatures in the trees, my clean skin grows filthy with the
task of digging.
Here lies Ainsley.
She lives among the dead.
I claw through the dirt, making slow
progress.
One handful at a time.
I’m not cold, I am determined.
My fingers start to bleed into the
well-sotted earth.
Deeper and deeper I go.
I reach something hard in the earth.
I dust away the dirt and see the face of
my father.
Lila...
I gasp and want to run.
No, Lila—you must dig.
Now the tears fall. My father’s body
crumbles into its final, painful ashes.
I find my mother below him.
Her eyes open briefly in terror.
NO—I can’t.
You must.
Sobbing now, I dig deeper.
Where are you, Ainsley?!
My cries echo off the moon.
Where are you?
I wipe my eyes with the grotesque
fingers of a grave digger.
I am covered in filth.
Finally, I reach a coffin.
I laugh with relief and hysteria.
I ease it open.
I see my face.
LILA!
I gasp and turn at the harsh whisper in
my ear.
I fall backward into the coffin.
I am face-to-face with her.
Ainsley.
“Lila,” she hisses. Her throat is an open,
red wound.
“YOU are ME!”
The coffin slams on my scream.
The same scream that wakes me from my sleep,
shuddering and crying for my mother.
Chapter 14
April 2, 2010
Dark House Literary Agency
New York, NY
To Whom it May Concern:
I am writing to offer you the option of representing
me in
heart. Me . No one else. It was me!â he yells into the woods.
âSam â Sam it was so much more than
you! You can only do so much! She carried so much pain. You were the sunshine
for her!â I try to console him.
He buries his fingers in his dark, soft
hair and rocks back and forth.
Shhhhhhhhhhhh, says the wind .
Itâs okay, Sam. Itâs all right.
I move toward him.
âItâs okay⦠Sam, itâs all right,â I echo.
Sam wraps his arms around me and I feel
his damp face on my neck.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Itâs all right. Everything is all
right...
Samâs mouth finds mine as the wind
teases in our ears and plays its bone violin against the trees.
The ancient secrets whisper to one
another.
Yesâ¦.yes...itâs all right. Soon it
will be spring. Soon all will grow.
Soon the dirt will be fertile and
filled.
Samâs hands tighten against my back. My
fingers find his hair.
We are both lost. We need something to
hold onto.
And itâs all right.
Isnât it?
Yesssssssssssss.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Sam leans me back into the dirt.
I find the buttons of his shirt. My face
is wet with tears â his and my own.
Give him peaccccceee.
Our kiss is deep, deeper than the dark.
Itâs right that this is happening here.
He pushes my skirt up and swallows my
sighs.
This is so good. So right.
Oh, Lilaâ¦
"Yes..." I whisper with the
wind.
Oh, Samâ¦
Is it our own writhing shadows that
dance against the watchful stone tablets? Or others?
We are one, our sounds gently drowning
out the wind and trees, echoed by something wild in the distance.
The wind sighs back at us â sounding
out words.
My eyes open lazily and it is only in
that momentâs bliss that I see him:
The Blacksmith has watched over all.
I cannot see his face â but I know
he is smiling.
Chapter 13
I settle in for bed after a long shower and
a longer night writing notes for my book.
My hotel is comfortable and modest. It
won’t be long before I find another place. I have savings.
From the fire.
Stop it.
We don’t talk about that.
Finally under the covers, I realize I am
exhausted.
I hope I dream of Sam.
Lila, don’t be ridiculous.
Still—
No.
* * *
It is dark.
I am there again.
I can’t stay away.
It is the Blacksmith that leads me here.
This way, Lila .
You want to know?
Yes, I say.
Yes, I do.
You want to understand?
Yes.
You must dig.
That is the only way.
I kneel before Ainsley’s grave.
Dig, Lila .
In my nightgown, under the unblinking
eyes of the night creatures in the trees, my clean skin grows filthy with the
task of digging.
Here lies Ainsley.
She lives among the dead.
I claw through the dirt, making slow
progress.
One handful at a time.
I’m not cold, I am determined.
My fingers start to bleed into the
well-sotted earth.
Deeper and deeper I go.
I reach something hard in the earth.
I dust away the dirt and see the face of
my father.
Lila...
I gasp and want to run.
No, Lila—you must dig.
Now the tears fall. My father’s body
crumbles into its final, painful ashes.
I find my mother below him.
Her eyes open briefly in terror.
NO—I can’t.
You must.
Sobbing now, I dig deeper.
Where are you, Ainsley?!
My cries echo off the moon.
Where are you?
I wipe my eyes with the grotesque
fingers of a grave digger.
I am covered in filth.
Finally, I reach a coffin.
I laugh with relief and hysteria.
I ease it open.
I see my face.
LILA!
I gasp and turn at the harsh whisper in
my ear.
I fall backward into the coffin.
I am face-to-face with her.
Ainsley.
“Lila,” she hisses. Her throat is an open,
red wound.
“YOU are ME!”
The coffin slams on my scream.
The same scream that wakes me from my sleep,
shuddering and crying for my mother.
Chapter 14
April 2, 2010
Dark House Literary Agency
New York, NY
To Whom it May Concern:
I am writing to offer you the option of representing
me in
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