There are secrets better left unspoken.

A week goes by, and little has changed. Tim mopes around most days, curled up in his bed, staring at the ceiling, still stressing because the ocean must be satiated. Flo has yet to tell anyone what Hubert said to her because he undoubtedly was drunk and lying (even though in my experience, most people because more honest with liquor). Though Bev has not stopped talking about the spectre she saw, the others have yet to believe her.

"Are you satisfied yet?" Flo asks, playing with the ground. "I'd hate to cut this riveting spectacle short, I mean, I could go on for another hour really, but don't you think we would have seen the person reappear by now?"

Beverly lifts a gloved finger to her lips to hush Flo. Though she wants to smile, a frown takes over. Bev has never known herself to be delusional. If she thinks she saw something, then she knows that something must be there. The forest would not trick her, not after beckoning her closer.

"Miss Carey, we were awfully tired that night," Clara begins a conversation she has already had a dozen times. She tries to channel Adwin's softness. Her words come out too abruptly, colliding into one another in a wreck. It's harsher than it needed to be.

Bev looks between the both of them. "You can doubt me all you want, but I am certain that I saw a spectre."

"We all experienced things that were impossible that night," Flo says, but she chooses not to elaborate on her own predicament. "Clara, for example, believed that Mickey wasn't in love with her. That's certainly impossible if I've ever heard such a thing."

"Oh, quiet," Clara scolds, turning to face Flo. Her cheeks burn bright red. "Mr. Gallego does not have feelings for me."

Flo rolls her eyes, but she isn't one to argue. Instead, she approaches Beverly. The oldest of them all has her arms positioned in front of her, copying the stance she had a week ago. Flo lifts a hand on to Beverly's and slowly lowers it. Her heart flutters in her chest.

Beverly takes a step back. She swallows and looks at Clara. "Now, I don't see why people fancy men. They're all rather difficult, and they are certainly burdensome. Women, on the other hand, are all the more interesting."

She doesn't realize that her words make Flo feel like putty.

"Some men have certain qualities," Clara puts her hands on her hips, trying to defend herself.

"Ah, but no woman is free in the presence of a man." Beverly counters, raising an eyebrow. "That is why I am certain the ghoul was a woman."

"Nonsense," Clara argues. "It must be a man because only a man would flee."

Beverly bursts into a ruckus of laughter, bumping into Flo. The touch finally pulls Flo from her daze, and she joins in. Even Clara, as tight as her spine is, cracks a smile. The three girls collapse on the ground in a pile of giggles and snorts.

Though her hair is full of grass, Flo doesn't seem to care very much. Instead, she looks at the grins on the other young women's faces and relishes in them. One day, she hopes to bring everyone this much joy. Even Hubert. The thought of him unsettles her.

"What is it?" Beverly asks, rolling over. She can feel her chest on fire, and though it was from the debate with Clara, everything feels like it centres back on Flo.

Flo shrugs her shoulders. "It's nothing."

Now, Beverly is interested. She wants to unwrap her, like the mystery she is. Beverly wants to know the truth, even if it is hidden somewhere deep and far away.

"It's not nothing," Clara says, until Beverly nudges her.

"Keep your secrets," Beverly winks. "Although, I will find them one way or another."

While the girls all smile together, lying back in the grass, the figure watches on from the distance.

~~~

Today is Adwin's turn. Unfortunately, it was Adwin's turn yesterday. And the day before that. And that. Most of the last week, actually, has been dedicated to Adwin making his way from the ocean with buckets to destroy the rot.

He has made some process. A couple of feet in a forest of black sludge. He has worn a path through the forest to the rot, making each journey easier. His allergies act up; the plants that he steps through will give him rashes around his ankles if he doesn't pull his socks up all the way.

Adwin doesn't appreciate the journey. At first, he quite liked being outdoors and being active. Now, his feet ache from walking several kilometres a day. He goes to bed and lies on his back to sleep because his arms are too sore to rest on. It's better that way though, because then he isn't forced to look at where Ivy sleeps.

He hopes his task is worth it.

(There are many things that Adwin doesn't understand. In this raging war, the rot is but a tool. Ultimately, he is deciding what side the travellers are taking in this fight. I don't know which side should win, but I dare say they both ought to lose).

~~~

It has been a day since Hubert came along with food. Normally every morning, as routine, he shows up with food gathered by the townspeople. Even though their fear of the foreigners seems to be climbing, their supply of food has not ceased. Of course, until now.

Normally, Maverick would have insisted on going, but as all his thoughts have begun to circle on Ivy's untimely death and his suspicion of Tim, he decided instead to let Alvaro and Mickey go, against his better judgement. Those two boys, coupled with Hubert, can only be trouble.

As they walk through town, the young men find themselves falling in even steps, their shoulders practically touching each other. Curtains are pulled closed and farmers run inside as the pair moves further in. The journey to Hubert's, without a horse, only takes two hours to walk. It's quite a long time for silence. Both of these men are used to operating in the dark, unbeknownst to the other, so it doesn't bother them.

Alvaro is the one who knows the journey to Hubert's. When they arrive, he knocks at the door.

"Maybe he's out," Mickey says. "Hubert has some sort of job, does he not?"

Alvaro peeks in one of the windows, but it is too dark inside. "I can probably jimmy the lock."

A smile finds its way on to Mickey's face. "The more I learn about you Costa, the more I like you."

Alvaro knows the first rule to picking a lock is trying the handle. He tests it, and the door opens behind him. He winks at Mickey as he walks inside.

A pile of food sits in the doorway, in a large basket that Hubert normally brings on horseback. Mickey opens his mouth to speak, but Alvaro puts a finger to Mickey's lips. He moves over to the edge of the room so the hall so that they are not creeping along the floorboards. Together, they walk into the living room.

A bottle of liquor rests in Hubert's hand. His body lies on the ground.

"Shit," Alvaro mumbles.

Both him and Mickey move around his body to check him for a pulse. There is one, which they both find. Neither of them feels the need to speak Hubert's condition out loud, because it is obvious that they both understand the consequences of drinking alone, in the dark, in the morning.

"Think we splash him with water or slap him?" Alvaro asks, looking up at Mickey.

Mickey, kneeling over top of Hubert, slaps him in the face.

Hubert's arm lifts up, and the bottle of liquor rolls away. He grimaces, rolling his head away. "I'm sleeping."

"Speak English, would you?" Alvaro asks, grabbing Hubert by the shoulders. He lifts him up and drags him a foot backwards so that his shoulders rest on the chair behind him.

"I thhought yowere Élise," Hubert mumbles, his head lulling to the side.

"Who?" Mickey asks, leaning forward.

Hubert hiccups. "My wife."

He tries to focus his eyes and figure out who is with him. Is it Frederique? No, he died of the rot. So much blood on his hands. He reaches for the bottle, but it is too far away. He wishes that he could simply lie back down and slip back to sleep.

"You shouldntknow dat." Hubert tries to enunciate the words, he really does. He is used to watching them constantly, to try and make them perfect. One of the only normal things that embarrasses him is his accent. It only reminds him of his own inadequacy. "Dat's dhe whole reason Imade dhe ruleup 'bout dhe past. If ya dont sharee, ya dont fall in love."

Mickey and Alvaro share a glance. Though questions buzz around their heads, they keep quite to give Hubert the space to speak.

"Anything to stop us from gettin' attach'd and carin'. 'Cause youre all going ta die and leavve me alone."

~~~

Maverick sits in the room with Tim, waiting for the others to get back with the food. The room is quiet, since Tim's snifflings have temporarily subsided. It's the first time Maverick has been alone with Tim in quite a while. He is grateful for the darkness because it hides the grimace he can't erase.

"It must've been hard for you," Maverick says.

Tim sits up under the covers, still in his pajamas. It's difficult to read Maverick's face because with the curtains drawn, it is nothing but shadows. Tim hopes that it filled with a warmth he hasn't felt in a long time.

While Tim would have gotten out of bed by now, mostly to relinquish himself from Adwin's constant attention, it has become quite painful to walk. It seems that the wounds on his ankle were more than superficial. They dig deeper, and deeper with each passing second. Sometimes, Tim just wishes that the ocean had taken him then and there.

"It was hard," Tim says.

"Carrying her must've been near impossible," Maverick says, raising an eyebrow.

Tim nods. "Yeah."

"And to think, she leapt out of your arms to throw herself over," Maverick shakes his head back and forth.

Tim stiffens his body. "I should've been able to catch her."

"Right, because you said that you carried her there, you'd think you'd have been strong enough to catch her." Maverick points out.

Now, Tim catches on. He brings his legs in close together and hugs a pillow up against his chest as his last line of defence. He's thankful that he and Alvaro buried the gun where no one else would find it. "I would've fallen off with her."

"So you intentionally didn't catch her?" Maverick stands up off his bed and moves closer. He sits down on the bed across from Tim. "Besides, you didn't carry her there. At least, you told us she walked there on her own."

Tim shuffles in the sheets. His heart is pounding practically through the pillow. "Maverick, I'm not quite sure... I don't know what you mean."

Maverick leans in. "Listen, I wouldn't have either. The girl was clearly suffering, and she might have been contagious. We're lucky she was gone."

"Are you serious?" Tim stands up, throwing the pillow. "You think what I did was easy? It wasn't. I had to make... wait..."

Finally, Maverick is close enough to Tim that they can see each other's faces. Maverick is smirking.

~~~~~

Welp, there's that. I'm super excited for this. I'm trying to write ahead, because as a birthday gift my parents are going to get me physical copies of the books I have wrote! So like, that's super exciting. So, expect more frequent updates. This book will need to be done mid-August, so I'm hoping for three updates a week!

Anyway, I hope you all have a good rest of your week, and I will see you soon!