Obsidian (Mystic Stones Series #1) by Kayla Curry

Author:Kayla Curry [Curry, Kayla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kayla Curry
Published: 2015-12-01T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

I felt well-rested for the first time in days and the shower rejuvenated me. After looking out my window into the dark courtyard, I grabbed the gun I’d been assigned and went to find Moana. The breeze chilled the night air and the temperature had cooled considerably since sundown. I remembered my jacket, but I glanced down at it with a pang of anguish. It was the same one I wore when I escaped Tom’s house. That memory would forever be attached to it; like a patch sewn on that only I could see. I ran my fingers down to the place I imagined the patch would be. The image of a heart broken in two came to mind. Moana’s call startled me.

“Hey! You’ve come to relieve me?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I said, “Anything happen on your shift that I should know?”

“Nope. It was pretty quiet. I saw a jogger come around, but they never came back around, so I’m pretty sure it was just someone from the neighborhood. Keep your eye out for things like the same car driving by more than once, or the same person walking by more than once. Monitor everything, and if you need to review something, the video surveillance equipment is pretty easy to use.”

“Alright, I think I can handle it,” I said with a smile.

“Basically just make your rounds every so often, but you can spend most of your time in the video surveillance room. I went on my rounds whenever my eyes tried to shut, so maybe that will help you too.”

“Thanks, Moana. Go get some rest, alright?”

Moana waved and went inside to catch some more sleep. I decided to make my rounds first and then go to the room. The grounds were serene. I walked out to the front to see if there were any cars or people around. Nothing. I went to the courtyard and walked along the fence line to find any possible weak spots. Once I entered the area where the tunnel began, I found the statue again. I looked up at it, bewildered.

I stared at it, afraid that if I blinked it would disappear. I walked around to the front while I wondered what was wrong with me. It stood in the same position as the first time I’d seen it, and also facing west. It resembled Jesse . . . I was sure. He was just standing there. The empty expression showed no sadness or happiness or even anger on the statue’s face. I was certain it was Jesse; the likeness was uncanny. The only other possibility was that it was someone genetically close in his family like a brother or father.

I wondered if Jesse had the statue put away during the day but then realized that was a ridiculous thing to do. Why would he be so protective over something so plain? It could be considered art simply because it was a statue, but there seemed to be nothing interesting about it. It may hold sentimental value for him, which is really the only person the statue had to please.

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