"They were self-inflicted."
I jump up and face her. "That's crazy. It has to be a coincidence. She--"
"Locke, that isn't what has me worried. There's more." She sets her mug aside and reaches out for my hand, trying to pull me down next to her, but I resist. "It was her eyes, Locke. I've seen eyes like that before."
Eyes? What is she talking about? I grab her arm and pull her off the couch and down the porch steps away from the house.
"Locke! Stop! What are--"
But I don't stop, not until we are both breathless and at the edge of the pond.
"Now. Say it here. Where no one can hear. Get it out and then let's forget it."
"I can't forget, Locke. I've seen that look in a face before. I've seen so many over the years. The first one was a boy named Dane. I was warned that he was missing something. He was. I still don't know what the it is, but it's the difference between emptiness and connection. And it's a dangerous thing not to have. Dane was eventually institutionalized after killing three people--"
"One psycho guy and you're lumping Kara with him?"
"I told you, there've been others. I saw Kara look at you. There was nothing in her face I could read. Her eyes were empty."
I shake my head. This is crazy. A look in the eyes?
"She was there for me, Jenna. For two hundred and sixty years, when the rest of the world abandoned me, she was there. I wouldn't call that empty!"
"How? Exactly how was she there for you, Locke?"
I look down at my feet. Something. I shift from one foot to the other. My eyes sting, and I turn around so I'm looking out at the pond. Something about her isn't right, Locke. Miesha said it long before Jenna did. I felt it myself. From the beginning, I knew she had changed. Sometimes I'm even afraid of her, but I always thought if I loved her enough I could make up for everything I had done, everything the world had done to us. But she's still not the same Kara. At least not yet, but even that doesn't mean she's empty, whatever that's supposed to mean. She was there for me. Always there. That's something. I owe her so much. Kara has to be all right, because if she isn't, maybe I'm not either.
"She made me know that I still existed," I whisper. I swallow away the stab in my throat. "It's only eyes, Jenna. They aren't even hers. Gatsbro made them for her. He made mine. How can you judge someone by something made in a lab?" I turn around to look at her. "She's been through hell, Jenna. So have I. Do my eyes frighten you?"
She shakes her head.
"Isn't it possible that you're wrong? You only saw her awake for an hour at the most."
"Of course. I want to be wrong but--"
"Her eyes were manufactured by a madman, Jenna. He didn't care about us. I have green flecks now. Look at you--you're two inches shorter. But our minds, those are still ours, aren't they?"
She nods. The rims of her eyes fill with tears.
"Give her a chance. I watched the two of you when you first saw each other. Wasn't that real?"
She swipes the hair from her forehead. "Yes. I think so. I'm not sure anymore. I needed to see her so badly. It was all such a rush--"
"That's exactly what it was. A rush." I reach out and hold her hand. "Let's give it some time before--"
"Hey."
Jenna and I both jump and spin toward the voice. My eyes freeze on the porch.
"Can an old friend join you two?"
Chapter 69
Kara walks down the porch steps. She wears Jenna's clothes. She spins to model them. "The pants are way short, but the shirt fits great. Looks like you and I are still almost the same size. But really, Jenna, you need to jazz up your style." She is smiling like I have not seen her smile in the last year.
"Kara." Jenna hurries to greet her, and they hug for another eternity.
When they let go, I ask, "Are you feeling okay?" making sure Kara has firm eye contact with me. She only smiles, like that is all I am trying to ask her. Like we haven't had a deeper connection. Kara. But I get nothing back from her.