Covet (Clann)

like the Williams family running things.
    And what that would mean for Savannah.
    I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ll see what I can do to make contact with the council. Savannah’s father is a former council member. I’ll talk to him and see if he can set up a line of communication for us.”
    Dr. Faulkner stared at me, a strange look on his face. After a long moment, he said, “Your dad would be incredibly proud of you tonight.”
    My chest tightened to the point where it was almost a struggle to breathe. “Thanks.”
    “Get some rest if you can. Tomorrow we rally the allies and start pushing for the vote. The sooner we can get everyone thinking of you as the natural and best choice for leader, the harder it’ll be for Williams to gain support.”
    I saw his point. It also made me think of something I’d heard in world history class, how when a king died people would cry, “The king is dead. Long live the king!” I’d never understood what they meant before. Now I was starting to get it.
    It didn’t make it seem any more right, though. Politics just plain turned my stomach. It didn’t take into account stuff like pain or loss or needing time to grieve, or shock or fears and doubts.
    Would I even make a decent leader? I’d assumed I would have decades to learn from Dad. Had he had enough time to teach me what I needed to know to carry on his dream?
    I said goodbye to Dr. Faulkner then trudged back inside the house. Officer Talbot was gone, Emily already in her room, Mom moaning in her sleep.
    I locked the front door, reset the alarm system, went upstairs to my room and toed off my shoes. Across the hall, Emily’s sobs were muffled by her closed door.
    Part of me wanted to knock on her door, offer her a hug, pull together like we always had in times of trouble. No matter how different our opinions had been on any one subject, we’d always stuck together. I’d always been able to count on Emily to figure out a game plan if I didn’t already have one.
    But after watching her either lie or at least hide something about Dad’s death, the greater part of me held back from reaching out to her. There were too many unanswered questions, too many secrets she was keeping. Even a tiny clue might lead us to the murderer. Until she opened up and told me what she knew, I just couldn’t trust her like I used to.
    So I shut my bedroom door and lay down on my bed in the dark. And tried to forget the image of Dad’s unseeing eyes staring blankly up at me, until exhaustion pulled me under.

CHAPTER 33
    I had always believed it was my mother who had placed the charm on my bedroom to keep me from dream connecting with Savannah all these years. But it turned out that my dad was the one who had actually created and maintained the charms at Mom’s request. And with his death, the last bit of his magic in the already weakened charm on my bedroom died, too.
    I learned this when my subconscious reached out to Savannah’s that night, connecting our minds in our sleep as easily as if we’d never stopped.
    “Tristan!” She hurried across the dimly lit yard toward me. “What’s going on?”
    I was sitting in the grass of my backyard, with no energy or will to get up. I waited till she was standing right beside me before I told her. “My dad’s dead.”
    She drew in a long breath through her nose then dropped to her knees beside me. “Oh my God. Tristan, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
    “Someone killed him in the clearing.” The clearing where so much had happened: where Savannah and I had pretended to play together in our connected dreams in the fourth grade, and again where we’d kissed and danced and talked for hours while dream connecting last year. And where her grandmother had died.
    Now I understood how a real-life memory could poison even the dream version of a place. I would never be able to step into those woods, or even look at them, without remembering Dad’s lifeless, cold body lying there on the path.
    “He died alone, Sav. In the cold. In the dark. He didn’t have a flashlight with him. He didn’t even look like he fought back! Why wouldn’t he fight back?” I was shouting, my fingers clawing up chunks of dirt and grass at either side of me. I had to get control of myself. I couldn’t let Savannah see me go nuts like this.
    “Shh,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me.
    I couldn’t hold her at first, scared if I reached out for her I would lose it. But then I found