We’re a team. If you hurt, I hurt.

Racer, the Knight of Sparrows

ELLIE

The weeks passed with no further communication from the police. I had to figure they’d just been doing their jobs by questioning Gabriel, although the way they’d done it, and the fact that they’d brought the Platinum Pearl into it, had shocked and shamed me.

They had looked at Gabriel as if he were some pervert when nothing could be further from the truth. Even I had recognized that he didn’t belong in the club the very second I saw him there.

The detectives had twisted things in a way that made Gabriel unrecognizable, and it filled me with anger and a burning need to defend him. And yet, I had no way to do that.

He was everything to me. If I could have crawled under Gabriel’s skin and lived there, I would have done it happily. I felt most complete when he was buried inside me, his eyes closed and his lips parted in pleasure. No other woman had ever put that look on his face. It was mine and mine alone. The sun rose and set in his eyes, and I was so deeply in love with him that I wanted nothing but to spend every waking second in his arms. It was only there I felt completely at peace.

Gabriel had all the things that brought him peace and joy. His work, his sunrise, his wind, and the raindrops on his window. But I didn’t need any of that. To me he was all of those things—I only needed him and nothing more.

Gabriel asked me to stay with him at his house, and so I did. I guessed I’d have to go back to my own apartment at some point, but our relationship was so new and so wonderful that I didn’t want to spend a second apart from him. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to since we worked together, too.

I brought the phone headset with me as much as possible and answered calls in his studio, where I watched him work. If the noise and distraction disturbed his focus, he never said so. He was working on another piece of architectural carving for a library in Germany, a foliate band, he called it, that would go on the front of the structure. It was gorgeous with intricate vines, flowers, and butterflies. If I squinted, I swore those butterflies would start fluttering their wings and come to life. That’s how real they looked.

At times I was in the office with Dominic, and although I avoided him as much as I could, his demeanor was still cold. Mostly he ignored me, but at times I felt so raw and defenseless. It seemed that my love for Gabriel had somehow revealed the most tender parts of me, and I felt exposed, bared in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Or perhaps I had. Perhaps that’s the reason I’d resisted it so fervently. But now … now I was like the works of art Gabriel created: Every sharp edge had been chipped away so that my insides, the parts that made me vulnerable and sensitive, were on the outside, whereas before they’d been encased in a hard coating of stone. It was an irony that I’d stripped for a living and yet I’d never felt more naked than I did now in a full set of clothes. I felt as if one sharp look would make me bleed.

I’d once been hardened against scorn, but suddenly Dominic’s contempt somehow brought up every hurt I’d ever suffered, and I had no armor to protect myself from the memories. I was completely raw. When Dominic glared at me as if I were trash, the names I’d been called when I was a stripper repeated loudly in my mind—trashy whore, cheap slut, piece of ass. And it went deeper, too, to places my mind hadn’t traveled in years—dark, painful places I didn’t ever want to go again.

And yet, when Dominic turned away rather than look at me, I couldn’t help recalling the way it’d hurt so deeply when I’d see girls at school hand out invitations to all the other girls in class except me, the way I’d tried so hard to brush it off, to pretend it didn’t matter. How I’d secretly longed to be included, to be liked, how it was a deep ache in the pit of my stomach that never seemed to go away.

The memory itself made me feel self-conscious and ugly all over again. It made me remember how I’d wondered if it was my threadbare, too-small clothes that made them ignore me, or if it was the fact that I was self-conscious and shy, unwilling to approach them first. Or worst of all, could they see I was unloved and unwanted by the person who was supposed to love me unconditionally, and so were unwilling to take a chance on someone who couldn’t even win a parent’s approval?

I remembered dreaming that someday someone would invite me to a party, and I’d go and everyone would like me, and I’d suddenly have friends and life wouldn’t feel so painful all the time.

I went through whole scenarios as I walked home from school, my imaginings my only company. And suddenly I worried—if I was ever invited to a party, how would I get the money to buy a gift? I couldn’t show up empty-handed. And so one night when my father was passed out on the couch, I stole five dollars out of his wallet and used the money to buy a small makeup kit at CVS. I would take that makeup kit out and look at it sometimes, and it was like a small fire that I kept burning inside, the symbol of my girlish hope that one day I’d be included. That one day I’d be loved.

And then my father’s friend Cory had done what he did. Afterward, I’d crawled out of bed in searing pain, still smelling like him—like sweat and beer—and I’d taken that makeup kit out of the drawer where I’d kept it. I’d sat down in front of my mirror and opened that kit and smeared the makeup across my face, caked it on my eyelids and cheeks and across my mouth so I looked like the ugly, garish, sorrowful clown I felt like inside. I’d stared at myself that way for a long, long time until I was too tired to stay awake anymore and then I’d gone back to bed, not caring in the least that there was blood smeared on my sheets and makeup smudged across my pillow. And, oh God, the memory tore through me like a red-hot knife. It made me want to scream and fall to my knees. I didn’t want to remember those things. I wanted to push them away, forget all about them, but mostly I just didn’t want to feel the emotions they invoked. I didn’t feel strong enough.

I was tempted to stand slightly behind Gabriel as we walked through the world so he would shield me from the things I imagined might hurt me. My knight in shining armor. And, maybe, I thought, that was what love was supposed to do—peel your layers back and uncover all your tender spots so they, too, could be healed. The problem was, I didn’t know how to go about doing that. And so instead of healing, I remained peeled back and bleeding.

I came into his studio one chilly afternoon, pulling my sweater tight. A gust of wind followed me, and I pushed the door shut, laughing as I turned to him. “God, it’s cold out there all of a sudden.”

Gabriel turned his head, his hands still moving over the piece he was working on. “We’ll have to light the fireplace tonight.”

I nodded, taking a seat in the chair where I usually sat, and watched him work for a few minutes, watched his gentle, skillful hands move over the stone, hands that had now moved over me in much the same way.

It was different watching his hands work now than when I’d watched him reveal William. Then, I’d only wondered what they might feel like. Now I knew and it filled me with a shivery happiness to watch him work.

I glanced over to the shelf where William sat, and he wasn’t there. I frowned. “Gabriel, where’s William?”

Gabriel stopped his work and looked at me. “Oh, he got picked up by the shipping company this morning. They were ready for him. I guess the museum exterior’s almost complete.”

A painful shock caused me to go rigid, and ice water poured through my veins. “You didn’t tell me.”

Gabriel was looking at me strangely. “You were in town, picking up that stuff for George … Ellie, are you okay?” He started walking toward me.

A loss so intense it scared me had settled in the pit of my stomach. I wrapped my arms around myself, attempting to hold the emotions at bay. Oh God, this was ridiculous. It was just a statue … just …

“Hey,” Gabriel said gently as he pulled me from my chair, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d take it like this. I’m sorry.”

I melted into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my face into his chest, inhaling his scent—comfort, calm—and shaking my head. “No, I’m … I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I don’t know why …”

He leaned back and held me away so he could look in my eyes, so much understanding in his, as if he knew just how I felt. He always did. “I should have let you say goodbye. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head again, attempting a smile. “No, I’m being ridiculous. I guess … I just … I fell in love with you while William …” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Came to life? Was born? Did I think of William as a child of some sort? The physical representation of my love for Gabriel? I took a deep breath. “I fell in love with you while you created William. He was special to me.” I attempted another laugh, and this time it sounded more natural, though the lump in my throat was still there.

“You love me?” His voice was full of warm wonder.

I blinked. “God, you don’t know?”

He smiled, so happily and just a little bit shyly, and my heart turned over. I felt ashamed as I realized I’d never said the words, even through all the nights he made love to me and held me in his arms as my heart burned with love for him. “I … hoped. But it’s nice to hear the words.”

I pulled him close. “Oh, Gabriel, I love you. I love you so much.” It almost shocked me to know I hadn’t said the words, but as I held him I realized that I’d held back not because I didn’t know I loved him, but because the words didn’t seem big enough for what I felt. I worship you? I admire you? I need you? I depend on you? How did you mix all of that up and express it with only three small words? Wasn’t love supposed to be peaceful and calming? And yet my love for Gabriel felt … desperate.

He kissed me, surrounded by all his beautiful things, the creations of his heart, and joy and loss and uncertainty mingled in mine. Love wasn’t supposed to feel desperate. Was it? Was I so flawed that I couldn’t even love right?

“I think we’ll have to go visit William and tell him the big news,” he said teasingly.

I sniffled and laughed, blinking so the tears gathered in my eyes wouldn’t fall. “In France?”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe someday.” I just wanted William here. With me. Where I could look at him whenever I wanted. “Anyway, I think he knows. I think he was the first to know.”

“Ah, Ellie,” Gabriel breathed. “I love you.”

We stood that way for a while until I felt better in the warm strength of his arms. “In the meantime, I’ll have them send me a picture when he’s mounted in his spot, okay?”

I nodded but inside, pain welled up in me again. I didn’t want to picture William there. And though it was irrational, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was lonely. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he whispered, leaning forward and kissing my eyelids, my nose, my lips until I breathed out a small laugh.

I collected myself, and when Gabriel returned to his work, he glanced up and said, “There’s this fall festival in town every year. You know, bobbing for apples, hayrides, that kind of thing.” He looked back down at his work for a moment. “It’s this weekend. I was thinking you might want to go?” He paused and then said, “You know we talked about me working a little harder with the people in town. I was thinking this might be a start.”

I tilted my head. “I think it’s a good idea. I’d love to go.”

His smile was slight. “Okay, good.” He paused again and his brow creased. I waited for him to speak. “There was an article about Wyatt Geller in the paper this morning. My name was mentioned.”

I blinked. “Mentioned how?”

He shook his head. “Just that I’d been questioned—that there were some similarities in my case and his.”

He made it sound as if it was nothing, but I wondered again if the police would have been as hostile with him if he wasn’t also connected to the Platinum Pearl. To me. I was silent as I considered that, my stomach sinking. I shook my head. God, some part of him must regret the day he ever stepped foot into the Platinum Pearl. Would my relationship with him cause him more problems? Would his already shaky standing in the community get worse, not better, because of his association with me? I picked at my fingernails, a frown creasing my forehead.

“Don’t,” Gabriel said.

I snapped my eyes to his. “Don’t what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop it.”

I blew out a breath, a piece of hair flying away from my face. I couldn’t help the small smile that came to my lips. “How did you know—?”

He was smiling at me from where he sat on his work stool. “I know you, Eloise.” There was so much love in his voice, it made my breath catch for a second, and warmth washed through me. Yes, he did know me, and he loved me anyway.

I dropped my hands and nodded in agreement.

He picked up a tool and then paused. “Oh, also, Chloe will be here for a couple of days. She wants to administer some test to me that she says will help support some part of her paper. She didn’t think it was necessary at first, but now she does for whatever reason.” He shrugged.

“Oh, okay. Does she need to travel all the way here to give it to you?”

“She says it has to be administered in person.” He paused for a minute. “I think she likes it here, too. I think she’s gotten attached to the area.”

I wondered if it wasn’t the people she was attached to, namely Gabriel, but I pushed the jealous thought aside. I liked Chloe, and I trusted her. “All right, then. Let’s show those townspeople how amazing you are and how … your bobbing-for-apples skills know no bounds.” I grinned. “If you can win over a hard case like me, you can win anyone over.”

He laughed and my heart felt lighter. Though when I glanced to the spot where William had been just the day before, the sense of loss trickled back in, as if a part of me was gone, too, along with William.