Veiled (49 page)

“
I’m not willing myself
forward either, but I think we are moving forward…or something,”
Alex said, and he looked at me with a disoriented kind of
look.

We continued in silence for
a while and then Dorian let go of my hand.

“
No!” I screamed, my voice
sounded void of my usual tenor. “Don’t let go…”

I turned to look at Dorian,
who looked confused. He looked around, then back at me with my
outstretched hand and tried to reach it, but the gap between us was
too wide. He tried to move his legs, but they wouldn’t let him
advance.

“
It’s OK, I’ll be
fine…I’ll see you soon!” he said with a smile.

“
No! Please!” But the
whiteness was getting thicker and his form kept getting fainter and
fainter. “I won’t forget you,” I promised, but even as I said that
I was having a hard time remembering who or what...

I tightened my hold on
Alex’s hand. This made him turn his head toward me and for a moment
I could swear that he had forgotten who I was. But then he smiled
and said my name.

“
Tess?” It was a question,
like he just wanted to make sure he had gotten my name
right.

“
Alex, don’t you dare
forget me!” I warned.

He smiled back at me.
“Never,” he promised.

We kept moving in the
direction that the Veil was taking us. We were silent in spite of
the fact that I wanted to talk to him. I was finding it hard to
think of things to say.

I decided that I would
repeat his name in my head over and over again, but as I started
this exercise, I could not think of what his name was.
“Come on!”
I told
myself,
“you just said his name, it
was…”

I turned to look at him and
he did the same.

“
I keep trying to remember
your name, but I can’t.” I told him.

“
I’m…I’m...” He couldn’t
finish, and a troubled look crossed his face. “What’s your name?”
he asked me, giving up on his own.

“…”
I couldn’t think of it
either.

I looked down at our
clasped hands and back up at his face. His face looked familiar,
and the fact that we were holding hands had to mean
something.

He looked down at our hands
as well. He frowned, and then looked into my eyes. “Do I know
you?”

“
Yes…I think
so.”

We stopped moving and were
now in front of several openings that looked like tunnels. They
were all around us and seemingly endless. There were others who,
like us, were standing right in front of them. Some of them looked
around, and some others jumped right in without any
delay.

“
I have to go,” he said
and released my hand.

“
No, don’t leave me!”
There was an echo and my voice sounded odd, like it belonged to
someone else.

He looked puzzled. “Why?”
he asked.

“
I don’t know.”

“
I have to go. Goodbye.”
He turned and faced the tunnel in front of him. He was about to
jump in, when he suddenly turned and looked at me again. His faced
looked confused, like he was trying to remember something
elusive.

“
Goodbye,” he said again,
then turned back toward the tunnel and dove in.

“
Goodbye,” I said, too
late. He was gone, whoever he was. My heart ached the moment he
disappeared. I felt hollow inside, as if part of me had just been
ripped out. Then it dawned on me! I loved him. I didn’t know who he
was, but I longed to be with him.

I looked down at the tunnel
he had just disappeared into, but it felt wrong somehow, so I moved
to a different one. I stopped in front of a tunnel that felt…right.
I looked at it and wondered why this particular tunnel felt
better.

“
You must go now!”
The order felt like it should be obeyed. I gave
one last look at the particular place in which I was and, closing
my eyes, I too dove in—and fell.

* * * * *

A Note of Thanks!

I finished this book with
the help of many, many people. My family, to begin with—immediate
and extended—they have watched, cooked, promoted, read, corrected,
discussed, and supported me and this book project.

I also have several
friends local, long distance, and online who I’ve never met
personally, but who I love and appreciate dearly for their part
in
Veiled
. To
begin with, the owner of my publishing company, Linda Boulanger,
for giving me a chance, finding my work intriguing, and being such
a pleasure to work with. Also to Laura Miller (AKA: author Jaimey
Grant) for making such a beautiful cover for me, and indulging me
with my bright and not-so-bright ideas.

I also want to thank Naomi
De La Torre—my BBF, proof reader and kid watcher, so I could write;
who introduced me to Swati Bharteey-Buck, another author preparing
to publish with TreasureLine Publishing who helped me gain
audience.

Then there are the many
people who read the manuscript in full or partially: My mom (the
Professor), Jody Jarvis (the speedy proof reader and fellow
TJEDer), the above mentioned super mom Naomi, my brothers, and
sisters-in-law. My friends who helped with the many decisions that
had to be made and who also read partials and listened to me rant
and rave: Jen McGregor, Joy Winn, Allison, Bobby Jo and Linda
Niccum, Alison Bair, Erin Cantwell, Rebecca Cuevas, Dina Ridenour,
Jennifer Wood, Lexi Majoue, Holly Grover, Heather Hammond, Jennifer
Forthman, Nicole Johnson, Lisa Turner and the many, many more
friends that I’ve made along the way.

* * * * *

Sites to Visit:

Laura Miller (AKA: author
Jaimey Grant) at

www.anauthorsart.com

Naomi De La Torre
at

www.organicmotherhoodwithcoolwhip.com

Swati Bharteey-Buck
at

www.thesinglemotherchronicles.com

Allison at

www.momentsbyallison.com

* * * * *

About the Author

S.B. Niccum ~ Silvina was
born and raised in Argentina and at the age of fourteen her family
immigrated to the U.S. She later attended the University of Utah,
where she studied Spanish Literature. She is currently living in
Dallas, Texas with her husband and her three homeschooled
children.

To learn more about the
author, please visit her website:

www.sbniccum.com

and her blog:

www.spiritualsupernaturalparanormal.blogspot.com

* * * * *

Cover Design: Laura J.
Miller

www.AnAuthorsArt.com

Page Layout: Ellen C.
Maze

www.EllenCMaze.com

Published by: TreasureLine
Publishing

www.TreasureLinePublishing.com

Also available in
paperback:
www.TreasureLineBooks.com