Henry’s POV
Since Kenny’s second visit, four months had gone by.
I am now inside Patrick and Harry’s room every night, awaiting Kenny—not only at tis when I cannot sleep.
The truth is, I can’t sleep in general, nodding off during lessons instead.
As it turned out, even an upgraded body needs sleep—perhaps not as often, but maybe more desperately than normal humans, due to the overwhelming amount of energy that is processed inside us.
I opened the door and sat on the leather seat that I had damaged last ti, now replaced with a new one, already sick of the other presence in the room.
"You can’t sleep?" Dr. Lawrence asked.
I didn’t answer her.
"You look horrible." She continued from behind her desk, sipping coffee that filled the room with its aroma, making my stomach churn.
She sighed.
"I will tell you again: I don’t know where my father or grandfather is. It’s not as if I’m hiding anything from you on purpose. I am still trying to help both of you."
I snickered dismissively.
She pressed her lips together before continuing to speak.
"I deleted the footage of Patrick and Harry wandering the corridors and using the elevator with suspiciously red eyes."
I didn’t even look up, uninterested in the bait.
"Henry, is that what Kenny’s blood can do? Allow him to use the body of the person who received it?" She asked, and I tapped the leather armchair with my finger warningly as I stared at her with a tilted head.
"What did he say about where he is? If he’s not by your side but is still visiting you, then you didn’t have a fallout. Is he stuck in a parallel world?"
I didn’t answer her, just tapping the armchair slowly and continuously.
"If you speak to , we could try to find him together. What did he say about the world he is currently in?"
"Who is this prophet?" I cut her off, cornering her with my gaze.
Her eyes widened before she leaned back in her chair.
"How do you know about that?"
I didn’t answer, continuing to stare until she averted her eyes.
"I don’t know. Four years ago, my grandfather began to tell about different premonitions, later saying that they were from the prophet."
"The prophet is a nine-year-old child." I told her and saw her looking at , genuinely startled.
"That...that shouldn’t be..." She stopped, as if she thought of sothing.
"Speak." I commanded her.
"Nothing..."
I grabbed the vase with decorative flowers beside and threw it in the doctor’s direction, missing her face by only a hair’s breadth.
"Speak." I repeated as she looked at the wall behind her, taking a shaky breath.
"There would be a child in our family of that age, but she died a few years ago."
"Four years ago when the prophecies started?" A five-year-old child should be capable of conveying prophecies.
"...Yes, around that ti." Dr. Lawrence covered her mouth, more shocked by that revelation than by the vase.
"What an interesting family you have here." I chuckled, not finding it interesting in the least.
"Who is this nine-year-old child?"
"My niece..." She finally looked back at .
"Find out what you can and report it to ." I raised my hand, wrapping my hand in the shadowy energy, letting it hover around my fingers like a glove as I looked at her through the black smoke.
"..." Dr. Lawrence massaged her temples.
"What are you going to do with the information?"
"We will see. But for your assurance, I wouldn’t kill a child." Kenny wouldn’t like it.
"...Why are you interested in that? Do you think the prophet can help you with Kenny’s situation?"
I smiled at her, not liking that she called ’Kenny’ here and ’Kenny’ there—as if it was an act against sothing sacred for anyone to speak his na.
Anyone but .
Or maybe especially .
"I am not sure if I can find out anything, though. If this is really about my niece, then everyone in the family has lied to until now. And now both my grandfather and father are gone as well." She took her cup and swirled it like a wine glass, not practically hurt about the fact nor surprised that her family would behave that way.
I broke into a grin and gazed at the floor for a mont.
It really isn’t possible for to gather any pity, as long as her parents weren’t squished by a crane, and her sister was the reason for the worlds to crash—the sister who wanted to kill you but didn’t manage to do so.
The one who instead killed her counterpart and her brother without any hesitation.
"You will manage; I am sure." I let the shadow around my hand slowly disperse and stood up.
"Are we finished?" I asked her.
"...No." She placed a pill container on the desk.
"I called you here because of that—sleeping pills." I burst into a chuckle and left the room without taking them.
Back in my room, I pulled the nightstand to my ever-unused bed and continued with my new favorite activity. I took a pen and paper from inside and placed them on it to use it as a desk, sitting on the bed while pulling my phone out and dialing Ethan’s number.
"Has Kenny visited?" Ethan directly asked.
"No. I have other news; I will co by soon and tell you in person," I said, writing the na that constantly lay on the tip of my tongue again and again.
"I understand. Want to hear sothing funny?" Ethan asked.
"Not really."
"The staff sergeant was here again with flowers, and Mrs. Howard told to report him for stalking." He chuckled.
Kenny would find that funny. I chuckled while thinking about his reaction to the gossip.
"Are you doing it?"
"No. We are lucky that it wasn’t him who went to the police after she nearly killed him."
I humd, and Ethan continued.
"I still can’t believe I am witnessing a courtship drama. First, he ran into Mrs. Howard occasionally, and then he broke into her mansion to warn her. Now he appears in front of the mansion like a gentleman with flowers and a deep scar on the back of his head."
Ethan usually wasn’t that talkative; it seed he was trying to cheer up.
Bring Kenny, and then I will cheer up. The only reason I listen to this is so that I can tell him about it when he cos back and make him laugh.
"I was suspicious of him at first, but after investigating him and speaking to Jordan and Omar, I have no reason to stop this."
"Inform him about the fact that she dug her last husband up to beat her grandson with his bones and tell his reaction." I want to tell Kenny about that part too.
Ethan laughed.
"I fear he will attribute this little anecdote to her charm. That man has long been lost."
"Mhm," I humd.
Love can make people crazy.
"What are you doing here? Where is my drink?" I heard an old voice on the other side of the line.
"Mrs. Howard... please don’t startle like this." Ethan sighed lightly.
"What? Do I have to announce my presence in my own house?"
"I am hanging up," I said, throwing the phone at the bed I was sitting on to continue writing on the other side of the paper when I noticed that I had lightly smudged the ink of the pen at the end of the last side.
I looked at the na and the way it had been stained by , the letters appearing to be wrapped in black smoke.
I stroked over it again, the smudge widening, the na nearly unreadable.
"Does dying feel like this?"
Because I feel like I am dying.
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