"Aspen. Aspen!"
I groan and roll over onto my side, covering my face with my satin duvet. I don't want to get up just yet.
"Aspen!!"
I almost open my eyes at the sound of my name, before I remember that Aspen isn't my birth name, but the name the fairies gave me. My real name is Sailor--it's been nearly eight years since I had been called by that name. Eight years since I heard that voice. My heart plummets.
I open my eyes, taking care not to look at the ephemeral girl floating a foot over my head. I rub at my eyes and mumble, "That was weird."
Peony frowns at this, but doesn't let this discourage her. "Cold iron," she curses, "Aspen, I know you can hear me."
I ignore her and look around the room. "Where did I put my phone," I mumble to myself, using the opportunity to get a passing glance at Peony. She looks worse for the wear, her once bright disposition looking sallow and grey. She's dressed in dingy-looking rags that look like a patchwork of old animal skins and worn burlap. It's a far cry from the cheery silks and tulle I remember her wearing. I swallow down the lump in my throat and continue to pretend looking for my phone, even though I know it's on the floor next to my bed where I always keep it.
"Come on, Aspen, I need your help," she pleads, this time floating directly in my face. It takes everything I've got to continue my charade, so I lean over the edge of my bed and reach for my phone, passing through her as I do so. She always hated it when I did that, as it reminded her that she couldn't fully materialize in my realm the way I could in hers.
"There it is. Duh," I say, turning the screen on. I sit up and lean against the maple-wood headboard, scrolling through Facebook to give myself something to look at other than Peony.
Peony is in tears now, and my resolve almost falters. "Aspen, please. It's the Goblin King. I've been his prisoner--" Her voice catches as she stifles a sob. "You have to help me."
I abruptly stand up and head to the bathroom so she can't see the expression on my face. I can't help her. If she knew the truth, she wouldn't want my help.
"Aspen!" she calls after me. "Please don't tell me you've lost your Sight," she says, sobbing openly now. "You're the only hope I have left."
No, I'm not. I lean over the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. All I see is the lying, treacherous person that I am. I see her come up behind me, but I don't turn, don't look her in the eye.
"Aspen, I need you." Her plea is accentuated by hiccupping sobs. "He's coming for me. If he catches me, I'll never get another chance to escape."
I snatch my toothbrush out of the holder, just to give me something to do. I twist the cold water on so high that it pummels the stainless steel sink and splashes onto the mirror and my nightgown when I stick my toothbrush under the torrent of water. I squeeze a blob of toothpaste onto my brush, which gets washed off immediately when I try to wet it under the onslaught of ice cold water.
"Aspen?"
I think she's catching on to my deception. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep it up, but I have to. I turn the water down, add another gob of toothpaste, and succeed in wetting it without washing it off. I stick my toothbrush in my mouth and scrub at my teeth so hard my gums start to bleed.
"Aspen, what's wrong with you?" She deliberately phases through the sink so she can face me, a testament of her determination.
She studies me so intently that my expression falters ever so briefly. "You're ignoring me on purpose!" Peony exclaims, shooting upward in shock. "Why would you do that??"
I sigh and slump against the bathroom sink, my forehead in one hand and my toothbrush dangling over the sink in the other. "Because I'm the one who betrayed you," I admit, eight years of guilt welling up in my throat. "I'm the one who gave you up to the Goblin King."