Vince’s tongue was whole, and there was no way to test if his shadow split now that it was gone. But if he wasn’t a gloamist, then who was he? What had he left behind?
Wrapping a towel around herself, she padded out barefoot, dripping on the tiles.
As she was pulling on a robe, headlights splashed across the room and then away. Vince was pulling into the drive. But when she came back to the table, he wasn’t there, although the food was, spaghetti steaming on the plate.
She filled a bowl and sat down, spinning her fork in the noodles and red sauce.
“Charlie,” Posey said.
“Yeah?” There was something in her sister’s voice that made her look up in alarm. Posey’s gaze was on the linoleum.
“There’s something wrong with your shadow,” Posey said in a hushed voice.
Charlie looked down. There was no ripple, but it had acquired a slight delay between her actions and its response. In all other ways, her shadow followed her movements exactly, yet Charlie had the disturbing feeling it was mimicking them.
“Do you know what’s going on with it?” Charlie asked, thinking of an article she’d seen. Ten Ways to Wake Your Shadow, according to BuzzFeed. Put a bag over your head. Hold your breath underwater. Hit your hand with a hammer. One thing that hadn’t come up: being attacked by another shadow.
Posey frowned as though this was the beginning of a particularly unkind joke. And it would be, for Charlie to get what Posey most wanted. No one knew why some shadows quickened while others never would. Trauma seemed to be a component, but not a surefire method. But if Charlie had magic, well, it was hard to think past the idea that her sister would hate her.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Posey asked, effectively changing the subject.
Charlie sighed. “The guy made his shadow change shape. It became solid. Knocked things over. Knocked me over.”
“From one of the gangs?” Posey asked.
Charlie thought of Salt and shook her head. “I think he was working for someone independent.”
Her sister looked skeptical. “You take something from him?”
“Not yet.” Charlie stood, walking her half-empty plate over to the sink. As she did, she saw that the white van was in the driveway, parked, lights off. No one seemed to be sitting inside. She remembered the splash of headlights. “Did Vince come back?”
Posey shrugged as though nothing could interest her less. “I don’t know. Did he?”
“I’m going to go see if he’s okay.” Charlie stuck her bare feet into a pair of work boots that Vince had abandoned near the door, the soles encrusted with dirt. They were much too big and her feet slid around in them, but she thought she could manage a slow stagger.
“He’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?” Posey asked, standing. “I’m going to go check in with some friends. We have a chat tonight.”
“You can’t tell anyone what I told you,” Charlie cautioned.
“I don’t need to say it happened to my sister,” Posey said, exasperated, as though the idea of not telling people was ridiculous.
“No one,” Charlie insisted.
“Whatever,” Posey said, lifting her phone to take a video of Charlie’s shadow. At Charlie’s expression, she sighed dramatically. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong with your shadow.”
Charlie had been waiting for Posey to at least float the possibility that it had quickened. That she hadn’t was a relief, and if Charlie felt some small measure of disappointment, it was easily ignored.
Charlie headed outside, the slam of the screen cutting off her thoughts on the subject. Her feet sloshed around in Vince’s too-large boots as she walked around to the side of the house, and she tightened her robe against the icy breeze.
She found Vince on the back steps, staring up at the stars.
He seemed to have lost his jacket. He had his arms folded over his knees, forehead resting on his wrists, t-shirt pulled tight across his shoulders. The motion-sensing lamp over the back door gave off a faint golden glow, gilding him. Moths circled, sending little shadows over his shadowless body. He must have been sitting there for a while.
When he turned, his face was carefully blank, as though he’d made it that way for her.
Charlie rested her hand on the chilled skin of his arm, and he sucked in his breath.
“You okay?” she asked, and he nodded.
It occurred to her with a sinking heart just how much she liked him. She should have realized at Barb’s house, when she’d been so angry with Suzie. Or when she continued to check for the photo in his wallet. Or at any moment before this one, when she’d discovered how little she knew about him.