I turned around to find Derek standing at the very center of the room. His eyes were beginning to moisten and I realized then that I’d never actually seen him cry. “Vivienne. She maintained the room all these years.”
I took small steps over the hardwood floor as I perused the rest of the room. Framed photos were all over the walls. Unlit candles surrounded the room. A sectional velvet couch was on one side, right in front of a fire place mounted on one windowless wall. A coffee table was set up in front of the couch and over it was a large leather-bound book that looked like it belonged to the fifteenth century.
To me, the room was a well-decorated place that provided the perfect retreat to anyone who wanted to get away from the confines of The Shade. To Derek, however, it looked like the room meant so much more.
I stopped right in front of him and looked up at his face, breath-taken by the intensity of emotion I saw in there. “What is this place, Derek?”
“I told you… it’s my sanctuary.” One side of his lips curved up into a side smile as he held my hand and led me toward the couch. He sat down and pulled me to sit right beside him. He sat up straight, leaning his elbows over his knees as he took the book on top of the coffee table and placed it on his lap.
“If you’re going to stay here, you need to know about The Shade and everything it cost to make it what it is now.” He paused, a pensive expression coming over his face. “More than that, I need you to know me. Everything about me.”
And that, I realized, was the reason he was so terrified.
Chapter 38: Derek
I opened the leather-bound book that showed pages upon pages of inked letters written in long handwriting. “These pages contain the chronicles of The Shade’s history,” I explained. “It is basically a record of how The Shade came to be.” I gently closed it and handed it to her. “The book cannot leave the lighthouse, so if you want to read it, you have to come here.”
The thought of her reading into the deepest secrets of The Shade made my stomach turn. Just thinking of how she would look at me after reading those pages broke me in a way I didn’t even know was possible. A tear ran down my cheek before I could stop it.
“Derek…” She seemed surprised, definitely moved by what she saw on my face. She brushed her soft fingers over my cheekbone, using her thumb to wipe the tear away.
I stared at the book and wondered if I was doing the right thing. I couldn’t bear to look at her, so I looked away. “If you think what I did to Ashley was bad, Sofia, you’ll find that I’ve done a lot of worse things to protect my family and The Shade.” I returned my gaze to the book on her lap. “Read, Sofia.”
She opened the book to the first page. I flinched as she began to read out loud. It felt like we spent hours inside the lighthouse as she read page after page after page, gasping at certain parts, tearing up at others. At some points, she would look up at me – a million questions in her eyes, as if wondering how I was able to live with myself having committed such atrocities.
I couldn’t live with myself, Sofia. That’s why I asked Cora to put me in a sleep that I could never wake up from. I still don’t understand why she broke her promise and made me wake up four hundred years later. I wanted to explain myself to Sofia, but I kept my mouth shut through the whole thing.
At times, it was worth watching her reactions as she continued to read. Sometimes, she would pause and stare at me with admiration. Or at least, what I thought was admiration. It felt like I was fooling myself to even entertain the notion that she could admire me after reading about the grisly history of The Shade. The shipwreck, the lighthouse, the caves, First Blood, the slaves, the Wall, the beasts…
When she began reading the thoughts I’d written down about the uprising and the subsequent massacre, tears began trickling down her face and she started sobbing. I was convinced at that moment: That’s it. I’ve lost her. She stopped reading and continued to cry quietly, mourning the loss of all those slaves who dared rise up against us.
I sat still, my fingers gently brushing against her hair as I waited for her sobs to subside. When the sound became unbearable, I withdrew my touch. I barely managed to say the words, my own guilt choking me.
“I guess now you know exactly what I am.”
I didn’t expect the way she responded at all. She took hold of the hand that I drew away from her and pressed its palm over the side of her face, her fingers caressing the back of my hand. “I think I’ve always known exactly what you are, Derek. The thing is … I don’t think you do.”