Veiled Innocence

Prologue

Drifting out into the field, a sense of familiarity hits me. Every time, the dream is the same. It never changes, never deviates. Not even once—ever.

Clasping Daniel’s small hand in my own, I cautiously regard the path we will take, knowing this is the only way. Ahead of us, as far as the eye can see, are miles and miles of fields, blanketed in flowers of the deepest blues and purples.

The colors, vibrant and loud, call to me, beckoning me closer—though I know what fate they hold, I cannot change our course. We are bound to this path, as I am forever trapped by my decision that led us here.

Squeezing his warm fingers in my palm, I manage a small smile at the trusting face turned up to me.

I know this dream. I don’t want to be here.

Turning my back on such trust, I desperately seek a way out—a way to escape the world I have been sucked back into, but I know it’s no use.

“You’re late again, Addy.”

His voice is exactly as I remember—cheerful, sweet, and a little high-pitched. Looking down, I find the same blue eyes I possess peering back at me.

“Dad’s gonna be so mad at you.”

“Shh, we won’t be late,” I promise, pulling Daniel’s arm up so I can see his watch. As always, it has stopped at 3:17 p.m. “Damn it.”

“Oooo, you cussed.”

“Daniel…” I warn, knowing we have no time.

I can hear it as it’s chasing me.

Tick, tick, tock.

The watch I was given for my fifteenth birthday methodically keeps time as the second hand ticks around the face.

Tick, tick, tock.

I hear it. I memorize it.

“Come on. If we hurry we’ll make it. We still have time.”

As I step forward, a breeze brushes my cheek, making the hair on my arms rise as though someone has stepped on my grave.

“No, Addy,” he tells me and tugs his hand from mine. “Time’s up.”

It only takes a second for our connection to be severed. I turn to him, and I know he’s right. His time has stopped. It’s not my grave that has been stepped on.

Before I can reach him, the flowers around us wilt, shriveling into the ground, and as he disappears with them, everything before me fades to black.

All I’m left with is darkness, a car horn’s insistent blast, the counting of the crosswalk—and the ticking of a clock…

Present…

Tick, tick, tock. Tick, tick…

“Addison?”

Tock.

Pulled from one nightmare and thrust firmly into another, I try to focus on the man sitting across from me in the stark temporary office.

Jesus, I know these sessions are tedious, but this is the first time I’ve fallen asleep. I’ve known Doc ever since Daniel—well, for three years, and now he’s been brought here. To help me, save me—heal me.

Tick, tick, tock.

“Addison? I’m going to ask you again.”

He’s concerned. They’re all concerned by what happened, but it’s too late.

Tick, tick…

“Remember, anything you say in here, stays right here.”

Tock.

They think that I’m sick, that I’m…damaged.

“When did you last see Mr. McKendrick?”

I tell him nothing. I never will. Not about this.

“It’s okay to talk about it, Addison. No one is here to judge.”

That’s not true.

Ever since I was admitted, Doc’s changed. He doesn’t see me like he use to. So he would probably be surprised to know that I’m judging him.

“We just need to know. Where did you last see Mr. McKendrick?”

Tick, tick—“You don’t have anything to be ashamed of”—fuck!

I hate interruptions. He knows that. Plus, I wouldn’t be sitting here if he didn’t think I should be ashamed.

“Okay, Addison.”

I wish he’d stop saying my name like that. It reminds me of…

“We’ll try this again tomorrow.”

And we will. That he’s not lying about. But I no longer care.

What do I have left? Nothing.

He’s gone. I’m alone, and all I can hear is…tick, tick…