Between Shadows

Between Shadows: Chapter 04-A (Unwinding)

“You’re sure it wasn’t just his ghost?” Lorian cracked a half-smile in an attempt to mask what he’d just seen. It had looked familiar, the bones of what Silas had been at one point—monstrous and unraveling, half-starved—but not quite the monster he’d come to know.

“You saw it. I don’t know what reason you have for lying, but—just tell me I’m not losing it.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “This is why I wanted you with me. I can’t do this on my own.”

It looked as if Lorian might say something, but the words died on his tongue. “Evelyn,” he said, “I’m here to ground you, not feed into whatever that—”

“I’m already drowning.” Evelyn laughed, running her hands down her face. “Just save your breath.”

After she steadied herself, they climbed the stairwell in silence. Evelyn thought he might break the silence, give her some sort of reassurance, but she felt as though Lorian had drawn a line that she was already halfway over.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Evelyn stopped by the archive to retrieve her laptop case, leaving the rest of the equipment untouched. Lorian opened his mouth to say something again, but she continued up the main staircase, unwilling to hear him.

They continued through the double doors to the hotel lobby. It was late afternoon, golden light streaming through the windows. She paused, taking a deep breath. “Look,” she said. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But you said you wanted me to keep asking questions. I need to know you want me to keep asking.”

Lorian shoved his hands in his coat pockets, shoulders raised in uncertainty. He tilted his head back toward the ceiling. A few graying strands of hair she hadn’t noticed caught the light, and he suddenly looked more tired than when they’d first met.

“Keep asking,” he said with a slight smile. “Drinks tonight. Something stronger. I’ll even let you buy them.” Evelyn’s eyes moved toward the bar, but he interrupted her thoughts. “Doesn’t have to be here. Anywhere but here.”

She nodded. “8 p.m.?”

“It’s a date,” he said. “I’ll come pick you up.”

—

Evelyn closed the door to her room, bag sliding from her shoulder. She sank to the ground, curling into herself for a moment, arms wrapped around her legs, cheek resting on her knees. The envelope peeked out at her from her bag, as if taunting her to open it again. She pulled it out, unfolding the letter inside, re-reading it as if some answer might emerge.

Nothing came. The memory faded as if it were another dream.

She packed it away again, putting her bag in the closet. She stripped quickly, tossed her clothes in the laundry bag by the bathroom, and headed for the shower. She turned up the hot water as if it might melt away the residual chill from the archive and tried to lose her thoughts in the running water.

Afterwards, she wrapped her hair in a towel and grabbed another to spread on the bed. She took a water bottle from the snack bar and plopped down, reaching for the remote on the bedside table and turning on the TV. A picture of the front of the hotel came up on the screen, picturesque in comparison to her experience so far.

Evelyn cracked open the water bottle, flipping through channels, landing on one of the local news stations. Immediately, she regretted it. A woman went on about the recent string of missing persons, with the police chief refusing to confirm they had a suspect. She drank, watching the screen absentmindedly.

For a moment, her mind wandered to the lift operator, entertaining the idea that maybe Silas had lost control of the hotel’s inner workings. Perhaps there was something to the way Lorian defended him—a truth that he instinctively knew, but couldn’t explain.

And what if, despite the meticulous care he’d put into crafting this space, there were things beyond even Silas Linwood’s control?

—

Hours later, Evelyn tied back her hair, letting the humidity of the room do its work for her, hair forming soft ringlets. She let some of them down to frame her face. She looked at the time. Half an hour, little time for anything else. She pulled on jeans, a dark shirt, a red peacoat that matched her hair, black heeled boots, and a scarf, tucking it down into the coat. She checked her phone. Nothing from Lorian.

Skipping the tension of the elevator lobby, she opted for the stairs, wrestling with her hair before heading out into the cold. Her hands found their way deep into their pockets, gloves forgotten in her room.

Lorian stood outside by a cab, phone in hand. He waved to her and opened the door.

“I could do with a walk,” she said, and he closed the door, waving the driver off after handing him a tip.

“Everything okay?”

“All things considered.” Evelyn forced a smile, hands shoving deeper into her pockets. “I could do with a little fresh air.”

“Not too far anyway,” Lorian said, pulling his coat a little tighter as they started to walk. “I picked a family favorite a few blocks over. Another one of my old man’s ventures—best restaurant in the city center.”

Evelyn grinned, shaking her head. “Charming. Is he planning on making you take this over, too?”

“Just the bookkeeping,” Lorian said. “I’m more of a numbers guy. He always had the big picture in mind. Between him and my mother, I was the only one who could be bothered to rein them in.”

“I take it she wasn’t big into business either?”

“No, she was more the artistic type. But she left her mark, too,” he said, smiling fondly. “Painted the whole place inside and out. Interior design and all.”

“Really? I’d love to meet her,” Evelyn said, genuinely curious. “I know the type. Both my parents are.”

“I guess this is the next best thing.” Lorian didn’t elaborate.