Prologue
2009—somewhere in Upstate New York
Jonathan balanced two cups of tea in one hand as he briskly walked into the sitting room. His guest would arrive soon and he knew she would want something warm to drink. Placing the cups on the low, wooden table he turned and perched on the sofa’s arm. He could hear her stumbling through the snow, a more determined gait than she’d had a few hours ago; then again, a few hours ago she’d been rather lost.
He had kept an eye on her journey, scaring off any threats and covertly steering her away from the more treacherous parts of the forest. She had looked down at her cellphone every 20 minutes or so, no doubt checking her path in case she’d lost her way. As much as he wanted for her to get lost and give up he knew that Caleb would never forgive him if something happened to her.
There was, he'd admit, something about her that was aching in its' familiarity and it had taken all the willpower he possessed not to pin her down and demand answers. No matter, if she was what Jonathan believed her to be then they would meet again in the future. He'd waited this long, so a few more years was mere child's play.
A knock so weak the wind seemed to swallow it came at his door and he knew that his guest had arrived at last. Jonathan ran to the door and when he opened he found the lovely creature he’d seen earlier only now she was red with the cold and he could hear her heart pounding in her chest.
Jonathan smiled before she said a word and waved her inside, “I’ve been expecting you.”
She was taken aback, it was only natural, he supposed, after all, she hadn't informed anyone of her trip. If he hadn’t seen the wariness in her eyes he would’ve thought much less of her, but he needed her to come inside while the tea was still warm.
“You’re Emma," he stated, "Caleb’s friend.”
Emma's composure broke then as she rushed forward, hands reached towards him only to fall short and remain at her side. She seemed to ignore the way he had neatly closed the door behind her. Instead, the desperation in her eyes pierced him, “You know Caleb? Where is he? Is he here?”
He would answer all her questions, but she was now shivering, her heart beat far faster now than it had earlier. Jonathan nodded towards the sofas, “Come warm yourself by the fire first.”
“But Caleb.”
Jonathan cut her off, “He would want you to be warm and not in danger of freezing to death. Have some tea, rest, I will answer all your questions.”
He ushered her over to the sofa he’d just vacated and placed a tea cup in her hands. Her body shook as it adjusted to the warmth of the room and, after some prompting, she took careful sips of the still-hot beverage. Jonathan picked up his own cup, but didn’t drink from it. He wanted to enjoy the few moments of silence before she inevitably broke it. When her desperate eyes found his again he braced himself for the coming onslaught.
“Where’s Caleb? Is he okay? Why hasn’t he called or messaged me? What is this place? Why is he here? Can I see him?”
Jonathan’s smile was more bemused than friendly, “My name is Jonathan. Caleb will be okay, but, for now, you won’t be able to see or talk to him.”
She had been about to take another sip, but she placed the cup back down, “Why not?”
“Caleb is sick.”
“I know that. He has seizures, epilepsy,” Emma trailed off, “Sort of. The doctors can’t figure out what's actually causing them.”
“I know what Caleb’s…illness is. He’ll be staying with me, where I can help him.”
Emma’s eyes lit with hope, “You know what it is? Why he’s sick? You can help him get better?”
Before he could answer Jonathan watched as the hope in her eyes faded to confusion, “But, but why did he leave like that? If he’s here to get better then he could’ve told me. He didn’t need to just," Her voice broke over the next word, "Leave.”
They sat in silence as she absorbed the new information. Jonathan encouraged her to continue drinking her tea and she did, but her movements were almost mechanical. When she had almost finished it she set it back down in her lap and took a deep breath.
“Could I see him? Please?”
“I’m afraid it isn’t possible at the moment. He is not here.”
“But," Her hope gave way to confusion again, "This is the address his cousin gave me. He said Caleb would be here.”
“No, I gave them this address. Caleb must be kept away from the people in his old life.”
“His old life? What does that mean?”
Jonathan's pity flickered through him at the despair in her voice, “During the duration of Caleb’s stay you will not be able to contact or see him until his…until the procedure is complete.”
“Will you at least tell me what the procedure is? Or why Caleb’s sick? Please, you need to tell me something. Anything.”
“I’m afraid you wouldn't understand yet.”
“Please," Jonathan watched as she struggled to find something to say, something that would change his mind, "I’m studying to become a doctor. I wanted to be a neurologist, for him, because I thought I could help him somehow.”
“Emma, even if I told you, you would not yet be able to comprehend it.”
“You’re not making any sense. Where’s Caleb? I want to see him now." Emma stood abruptly, her near-empty cup fell to the carpet with a soft thud, "I’ll-I’ll call the police.”
Jonathan stood as well, watching her carefully, “It will all make sense one day and I hope that when that day comes you do not hold it against either of us.”
“What? What do you--”
Emma began to feel dizzy. She stumbled forward and felt Jonathan catch her by her shoulders and help her back down to the sofa.
“I’m sorry, Emma," Jonathan's voice came from far away, "But it’s for the best. For both of you.”
The light woke her up. It came through the window with a vengeance, uninterrupted by any curtains or blinds. And it didn't help that her head hurt. Emma jerked away, suddenly more awake than she'd ever been. The last thing she remembered were Jonathan's soothing words.
He'd claimed he was doing it for her and Caleb, that it was the best for both of them, that she'd understand one day. Why? What had happened? Why had she passed out? She had just started to get warm, the feeling returning to her toes, and the tea had been--
The tea.
Jonathan had drugged her tea. Fear gripped her as she checked her clothing. She was still wearing the same clothes, even, she noted with disgust, her shoes. The fear ebbed slightly, if she was still wearing her hiking boots then nothing...nothing had happened, right?
A piece of paper was on the table next to her. Emma seized it, maybe it was from Caleb? Or an explanation from that-that weird, asshole Jonathan.
Emma,
I apologize for the alarming way our conversation ended. Yes, your tea was laced with a sleeping mixture; however, I promise there are no lasting health effects other than a temporary mild headache. I also promise that nothing untoward happened whilst you slept. The very thought of such a deed is repulsive, but I did not want you to worry. I've arranged for a private chauffeur to take you back to your apartment. Don't concern yourself with the fare; it's already paid for.
Jonathan
She let go a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Good, nothing had happened. But then her other questions demanded attention. Why had he drugged her tea? Why wouldn't he let her see Caleb? Why did he say that Caleb couldn't talk to her? When those questions stopped their clamoring a fresh wave of them appeared and they brought a different kind of pain with them. Why had Caleb left without saying goodbye? What was so urgent that he couldn't have left her a note? Even that asshole Jonathan had left her a note that was nothing but a bunch of flowery language, but at least it had had reasons for his behavior.
Doubt crept into her as she considered Jonathan's letter. He could have just left her without any explanation, left her to always wonder what had happened, but he hadn't. In fact, he'd semi-comforted her and even found her a ride home. If a stranger could do that for her why couldn't Caleb? It was looking more and more like Caleb had decided to leave without saying anything and that was painful.
Emma's heart grew heavier with each unanswered question. How could Caleb have just left? Tears taunted her as they gathered in her eyes. The last few days had been so long and difficult it felt like she'd spent the last 300 years crying over him. She didn't think she had any tears left.
She didn't want to cry anymore. He didn't deserve all the heartache she felt. He...he wasn't even her boyfriend, so what claim did she really have over him? No more crying. Emma pushed her palms into her eyes and took deep breaths. Caleb didn't want to see her? Fine. He could take their friendship and flush it down the drain? Fine, so could she.
Emma got up, crumpled Jonathan's note and left it where she found it. Part of her screamed at her to take it, but she knew that it would only remind her of Caleb and she couldn't have that. She needed to remember the pain, but she also needed to remember the anger. If Caleb tried to come back into her life, Emma wasn't going to let him.
