HER PHONE WAS ringing.
For a moment, Aubrey lay there, content in the glorious place between sleep and awareness. But as the chimes increased in volume, and the familiarity of the ringtone resonated with her, she compelled herself awake. Her head heavy from strain, she flinched against the muted ribbons of sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. With what felt like a Herculean effort, she grabbed the phone and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?" she murmured, her voice hoarse from fatigue.
"Hello? Aubrey? Is that you?" answered a concerned, honey-sweet voice.
Settling back against the pillows, she muffled a yawn. "Good morning, Lila." She frowned and darted a glance at her screen. "Or, is it afternoon where you're at."
"Afternoon," her sister huffed. "But that's beside the point—are you okay? You don't sound very good."
All things considered, she felt fine. Well, aside from the fact she felt as if someone had bludgeoned her head. "Could be better," she replied, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I just woke up."
"Oh... Well... Are you all set?"
"Set?" Aubrey frowned. "Set for what?"
"Please tell me you're joking. You're joking, right?"
"I'm sorry—you've lost me."
"Didn't you get the ticket I'd sent you?"
Ticket?
Rolling to her side, she reached into the drawer of the nightstand where she kept every important or valuable post and pulled out the most recent of her sister's letters. Tucked carefully inside a blue-and-gold wedding invitation sat a single, first-class one-way ticket to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Northumberland. "Got it," Aubrey replied, her eyes skimming over the finely typed words.
"Oh, good!" She could hear Lila's breathy sigh; her lips twitched. She could picture the relief on her sister's face. "Now, when you land, Hugh will meet you at the airport and drive you here. You remember Hugh, right?"
Wordlessly, Aubrey searched her memory for anyone by the name of Hugh. Aside from Hugh Jackman (the actor), she couldn't put a face to the dragon (or human) her sister spoke of. "To be honest... I'm drawing a blank."
"Oh, you know Hugh. He's Graham's cousin. The younger one."
The male's face remained blank. "I'm sure I'll remember him when I see him."
She knew Lila was bristling on the other line for her inability to picture Graham's cousin; she also knew her sister would let it rest. For now. At least until Aubrey arrived.
"I'll be sure he waves a big sign with your name on it when he greets you."
Aubrey started. "Please, don't!"
Her sister's laugh was warm and full of mirth. "I'll think about it."
There was a wistfulness in her sister's voice, carried upon a far-off sigh. Aubrey instantly sobered. "How are you doing? Are you getting excited? Nervous?"
Lila sighed. "A bit of both, I think."
Further, in the background, Aubrey heard the deep rumbling lilt of her soon-to-be brother-in-law. "More excited, I hope."
There was a pause—no doubt the two were embracing; immediately, Aubrey felt like an intruder upon the couple, even though, technically speaking, it had been Graham who had intruded upon their conversation—then, with a mild reprimand to her mate, Lila said breathlessly, "So, are you packed and ready to go?"
Aubrey glanced at her suitcase across the room. It leaned against the wall, empty. "Yep. All set."
"Great! Then, I'll see you tonight." Lila paused, giggling at something Graham had said or done before she composed herself long enough to say, "Call me when you land. Love you!"
"See you soon, Longshanks," Graham called in the background.
"Will do. Love you guys."
The phone clicked. Again, silence.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She'd forgotten how much she'd missed her siblings. Though she hadn't spoken to Jonas, her brother, no doubt, would inundate her with updates on his mate's pregnancy (hopefully, spilling whether or not Aubrey would be the aunt of a niece or nephew).
A pulse throbbed beneath her brow.
Aubrey groaned and placed her hand to her head, gently massing the aching flesh. While the voice remained silent wherever it was in the far reaches of her mind, like an entity it moved, unseen but ever-present. A reminder that the ease with which she achieved from her siblings and their family was a temporary affair.
Reaching under her pillow, she fished out the pamphlet she'd been eying for the past month and a half. Hickoryvale Rehabilitation Center. The front display of the brochure included an image of a lovely red brick building sporting a well-kept garden with a bubbling fountain placed in the center of the cobbled walkway. The building had at one time in the early '30s, as described in the brochure, been a boarding school for young girls. In fact, all of the patients at Hickoryvale were female, with ages as low as fourteen. It assisted women with various afflictions, from helping drug addicts become sober to depression. It also assisted in aiding schizophrenics.
With a sigh, she tucked the pamphlet back under her pillow and stood. There was no point in dwelling on it. If she longed for a future in which she could spend with her family without the constant worry of the voice in her head, she needed to get some help.
It was decided.
After she saw her sister successfully mated to the Blackstone leader and was ensured of her siblings' happiness, she was to return to the states and enroll herself until the voice was defeated once and for all.
As she began the trek to her dresser, she paused and picked up the ticket again. Her eyes squinted, she skimmed over the print and paled. Date: 01SEP. Time: 10:30.
She glanced at her phone. 8:59.
Fuck.