Sanctum. Madeleine Roux

and that deadline’s coming up fast.”

      “I’ve got plenty of time,” Dan said unconvincingly.

      “Maybe for the essay, but don’t you think the admissions people will find it odd that you stopped doing all your extracurriculars your senior year? Couldn’t you get an internship? Even if it was just one day on the weekends, I think it would make a big difference. And maybe you should visit some other campuses, too—you know, early decision isn’t the best choice for everyone.”

      “I don’t need more extracurriculars as long as I keep my four point oh. And besides, NHCP will look great on my apps.”

      Sandy’s pale brow furrowed, a chilly wind ruffling her shoulder-length hair as she looked away from him, staring out at the trees surrounding the porch. She hugged herself and shook her head. This was how she always reacted when NHCP came up; unlike Jordan and Abby, who had been able to spin and massage the truth for their parents when it came to Brookline, Dan’s parents more or less knew the whole story. They had been there when the police questioned Dan; they had listened as he recounted being attacked, pinned to the ground … Just mentioning that place in their presence was like whispering a curse.

      “But sure,” Dan said, blowing on the hot chocolate, “I could look for an internship or something. No sweat.”

      Sandy’s face relaxed and her arms dropped to her sides. “Would you? That would really be amazing, kiddo.”

      Dan nodded, going so far as to open a new browser window on his laptop and Google something. He typed in “zookeeper internship” and tilted the laptop slightly away from her.

      “Thanks for the cocoa,” he added.

      “Of course.” She ruffled his hair, and Dan breathed a sigh of relief. “You haven’t gone out much lately. Doesn’t Missy have a birthday coming up soon? I remember you going to her party around Halloween last year.”

      “Probably,” he said with a shrug.

      “Or your other … your other friends?” She stumbled over the word friends. “Abby, was it? And the boy?”

      She always did that, asking about Abby as if she didn’t remember exactly what her name was. It was like she couldn’t believe or accept that he had actually gotten a sort-of girlfriend. To be fair, Dan could hardly believe it sometimes himself.

      “Yeah,” he said with a noncommittal grunt. “They’re busy, though, you know … school and work and stuff.”

       Dynamite job, Dan. Your Oscar’s in the mail.

      “Work? So they have jobs?”

      “Subtle, Mom,” he muttered. “I can take the hint …”

      “I’m sure you can, sweetheart. Oh, before I forget—the mail came. There was something in there for you …”

      That was unusual. He never got snail mail. Sandy flicked through the various envelopes that had been tucked in her jacket pocket before dropping one in his lap. The letter looked like it had gotten run through a washing machine and then dragged through the dirt. Dan checked the return address and a cold pain shot through his stomach.

      Sandy hovered.

      “It’s probably junk mail,” Dan said lightly, tossing the envelope onto his books. She took the hint, giving him a thin-lipped smile before turning away. He hardly heard the door close as Sandy disappeared back into the house. Dan scrambled for the letter.

       Lydia & Newton Sheridan

      Sheridan? As in Felix Sheridan? As in his former roommate, the one who had tried to kill him over the summer, either because he went crazy or because he was, what, possessed? When he closed his eyes Dan could still see Felix’s maniacal grin. Possessed or not, Felix had absolutely believed he was the Sculptor reincarnated.

      Dan’s hands shook as he tore open the envelope. Maybe it was just an apology, he thought—it was entirely possible that Felix’s parents wanted to reach out to him and say they were sorry for all the trouble their son had caused him.

      Dan drew in a deep breath and double-checked to make sure he was alone. Through the half-open window he could hear Sandy washing the dishes in the kitchen.

       Dear Daniel,

       You’re probably surprised to hear from me, and I’d hoped to avoid sending this letter, but it’s become clear that this is the only option.

       I really have no right to ask this of you, but please give me a call as soon as you receive this letter. If you don’t get in touch … Well, I can’t say I would blame you.

       603-555-2212

       Please call.

       Regards,

       Lydia Sheridan

      

      Dan couldn’t decide whether to chuck the letter in the garbage or dial the number right away. Inside, he could still hear the quiet clinking of his mother washing and drying the dishes. He read the letter over again, tapping the paper against his knuckles as he weighed his options.

      On the one hand, he would be perfectly happy to forget Felix altogether. On the other …

      On the other hand, it would be a lie to say that he wasn’t curious about his old roomie’s condition. They had left everything so unresolved. The cold sensation in his stomach refused to go away.

       Felix probably needs your help. You needed help, too. Is it really fair to say that anyone is a lost cause?

      He looked to the window on his right. His mother was humming now, and the music of it drifted softly out to where he was sitting. A few leaves floated down from the maple tree that lorded over the porch. No matter how many times Paul cut back the branches on it, it kept reaching for the house. But that didn’t stop his dad from trying.

      Dan picked up his mobile and dialed Lydia Sheridan’s number before he could think of an excuse not to.

      It rang and rang, and for a moment he was certain she wouldn’t pick up. He almost hoped she wouldn’t.

      “Hello?”

      “Hi, Lydia? I mean, Mrs. Sheridan?” His own voice sounded high and strange to his ears.

      “That’s me … Who is this? I don’t recognize the number.”

      She had Felix’s same soft-spoken manner, but hers was a more relaxed and more feminine version of the voice he could still recall.

      “This is Dan Crawford. You sent me a letter asking to get in touch. So … Well, I’m getting in touch.”

      The line went quiet for what felt like a lifetime. Finally, he could hear Felix’s mother drawing in ragged breaths on the other end.

      “Thank you,” she said, sounding like she was on the edge of tears. “We’re just … We don’t know what to do anymore. It seemed like he was getting better. The doctors treating him really thought he was improving. But now it’s like he’s hit a wall. All he does is ask for you, day in and day out—Daniel Crawford, Daniel Crawford.”

      This news was more than a little unnerving.

      “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not sure what you want me to do about it,” Dan said. Maybe that was cold, but what was he supposed to do? He wasn’t a doctor. “It’ll probably pass. I bet it will just take time.”

      “What about for you?” Lydia demanded.

      Dan jerked his head back, startled by the