CHAPTER 122: 122-A FRIEND OR AN IMPOSTER

Clementine:

"Ian, you’re the only one making these weird comments and making her uncomfortable," Troy hissed at him. Ian just shrugged, leaning back like he was about to lie flat and fall asleep. He folded his arms behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Yorick had been unusually silent. I felt like I was noticing everyone too much, picking up on every shift in their body language. Maybe it was because, after coming to the North for the first time, I’d realized how important it was for a crusader to keep their eyes, ears, and mind open at all times.

Then Troy got up from the couch and headed into the bedroom I’d been eyeing. He opened the door effortlessly, and when he stepped inside, I saw him light a candle. A minute later, he walked out, pointing his thumb toward the room.

"Clementine, the room is safe," he said, not looking at me as he walked away with his head down. It felt like his way of letting me know I could take it. I really needed to use the restroom, so I was grateful.

I stood quickly, aware of the eyes on me. Haiden was watching, and Yorick was even checking me out, but I didn’t stick around to argue. They could look all they wanted; I couldn’t control that. I headed for the bathroom in haste.

It was a cozy space, with a small bathtub near a boarded-up window. It must have been a beautiful house once, with a view worth having, but not everything beautiful is safe. I undressed and filled the tub, lowering myself into the cold water. Even so, it was better than nothing. Taking a bath in the North felt like being on the VIP side of a hotel. I rested my head back, and my eyes began to close. I guess I was more tired than I thought.

"You’re making too much noise," I heard someone whisper. The voice sounded like a woman’s, one I hated the most.

Glinda!

"Why did you strike her?" a man argued. It was my father.

"She was listening to us! And wait—are you defending that daughter who’s nothing but trash to you?" Glinda’s voice dripped with anger and hatred.

"No, I’m not. I’m just asking why you’d want more trouble on your hands. Don’t we already have enough?" my father hissed.

Glinda mimicked his words in a garbled, mocking tone.

"Glinda, sometimes you’re just too adorable." But somehow, my father still sounded amused.

Wait! what was going on? How could I hear all this? I wasn’t seeing anything. Everything was pitch black. Then I felt something cold and liquid seeping into my nose.

"AHHHH!" I gasped, jolting awake in the bathtub, and froze when I saw Haiden in the bathroom.

"You’re okay?" he asked. His arms were wet. It seemed he was the one who had woken me.

I looked around, then quickly covered my chest. There was no light in the bathroom, so he couldn’t see much, but I still felt exposed. He turned his back, grabbed a bathrobe, and held it out to me.

"No, I don’t know whose bathrobe it is," I said, frowning. He put it back, hands on his waist, still facing away.

"You’re not supposed to sleep in the bathtub. You could drown, you know that?" he said, making me realize why he was there. I must have been struggling, and he happened to be nearby.

"Yeah, I guess I’m just tired," I murmured, scratching my scalp.

"I’ll give you a minute," he said, walking out and leaving me alone.

I sat in the water, thinking about the strange dream. It felt like a continuation of the last one. But where was I in it? How could I hear everything without seeing? Maybe it happened while I was drifting in and out of consciousness after I had been struck with a hammer. That must have been when I heard them arguing. But why that night? Why that incident? None of it made sense.

After I got dressed, I walked out of the bathroom with my hair still wet. Haiden was pacing around the room, sneaking glances at me without really looking directly.

"Do you want to tell me what this is all about?" he finally asked, tilting his head, hands on his waist.

"Nothing. I just fell asleep," I lied. At this point, even I didn’t know what these dreams meant. What was I supposed to say, that I’d heard my stepmother and father talking about strange things? First about why I was struck, then my father suddenly admiring my stepmother? There was nothing worth discussing.

"You seem pretty off," Haiden said.

"I’m not, but I’m sure Yorick and Ian are up to something. They’re the ones who are quiet," I replied.

Haiden frowned, narrowing his eyes. "Well, I think you’re acting weird."

"What? No." I almost laughed at myself. "Maybe I am, but did you notice anything about Ian and Yorick?" I asked.

That’s when Yorick walked in, hands in his pants pockets. "What are you doing in her room?" he asked.

He looked like he had just woken up, which made me wonder how long I’d been in the water, my fingers were already jelly-like.

"Oh, he came in to save me from drowning." I laughed, as if it were even possible for me to drown in a bathtub. Imagine a crusader who’s supposed to slay a monster drowning in the bath.

"Really? Well, you must have been in her bedroom to even hear her struggle in the bath," Yorick said.

"Yeah, I came into her bedroom to see if she was awake because I wanted to talk to her," Haiden stated confidently, not shying away from his intentions.

"By the way, I’m here to talk if I have to complain," I told Yorick, also reminding Haiden they weren’t supposed to argue over me. I can make decisions for myself. They don’t get to act like my guardians or decide who I can and can’t talk to.

"And what were you saying about me?" Yorick asked, this time more curious than aggressive.

"Nothing. I just noticed you’ve been very quiet," I said, watching him raise an eyebrow.

"No, I noticed Troy has been acting weird," Yorick replied.

"Wait, what?" Haiden and I said in unison. A bad feeling hit me instantly.

Then a knock on the window pulled our attention away.

"Yorick, you’re here?" a voice called.

As soon as he heard his name, Yorick’s eyes widened. He turned instantly toward the window. Haiden and I exchanged a look as Yorick moved briskly to the boarded window, placed his hand on it, and knocked back. The voice sounded like a young boy’s.

And then, in a panicked state, Yorick uttered, "Rocco?"