Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Her hair was on fire, the side of her face scorched. Beside him by now, I stamped out the flames using a rag that had been hanging on the same stand as the poker. Probably what the cleaners used to wipe away any lingering ashes.
The acrid scent of burned hair lingered in the air as Ash picked up the doll. At the same time that I understood that meant the doll’s hair was real, was likely Bea’s, I saw the macabre vision the doll had now become. No longer was she a perfect representation of six-year-old Bea.
Now . . . now she looked like the house. One half of her scorched and ruined, the other half perfect. A crack marred her singed cheek, and one hand was damaged, pieces broken away. And her hair, Bea’s beautiful hair, was crisp and burned to the scalp on one side, blackened on the other, several of the strands seemingly melted into the porcelain.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Ash’s voice shook, red streaks on his cheekbones. “We talked about this. It’s a memory of your sister and you know you’ll regret it later on. You always act first and think later!”
“I don’t want it!” Darcie’s face was hot and pink, splotches mottling her picture-perfect glow. “I hate that doll. I’ve always hated it! You’re the one who thought we should keep it to pass on to our children! You’re the one obsessed with Bea!”
Sensing I wouldn’t get my hands on the doll anytime soon, I moved out of the line of fire and found myself beside Vansi. “Where did she find it?” I muttered.
Vansi nodded to the dripping-wet daypack that sat half-open on the floor by one of the sofas. “In the bag she took on the hike. She was emptying it out while we sat around chatting, and all of a sudden that thing was in her hands.” She folded her arms, met my gaze. “No question of it being on purpose. But who, and why?”
I appreciated that even though I was the last person to have had custody of the doll, she didn’t even consider that it might’ve been me. Vansi knew I’d never go around torturing someone this way—I’d wanted to confront Darcie face-to-face, not mount a passive-aggressive campaign.
“That means someone went into my room this morning after I put Creepy Bea in the closet, searched and found her, and put her in Darcie’s pack.”
Face tight, Vansi nodded. “We were all moving around this morning. You were outside taking photos of that weird tree for a bit, remember? None of the rooms have locks. It could’ve been any of the group.”
I rubbed my forehead, while Ash and Darcie continued to argue. They were doing so in whispers now, however, their faces only an inch apart. Ash still held on to the doll.
And I thought of what he’d told me.
“Do you think . . .” I leaned closer to Vansi. “I mean, it sounds crazy, but do you think there’s a chance Darcie did it herself?”
Her eyes cut away from the tableau by the fireplace, her pupils flaring. “Why?” A whisper. “To start drama?”
I shrugged, but didn’t share what Ash had said about her recent unstable behavior.
Lips twisted, my best friend took a second to think. “I mean, I don’t like her, but she seemed sincerely freaked out. To be honest, more freaked out than she should be. I know it’s Bea’s doll, but Bea’s gone, has been for years. If anything, the doll should’ve made her sad, you know? Especially since we’ve all kind of guessed how it ended up at the estate, that Bea must’ve left it behind for Darcie.”
“But then who’d put it where Darcie would stumble on it?” I murmured. “Who would dislike her enough to torment her?”
If it came down to it, Vansi was the only one I’d heard say angry words about Darcie—and I knew beyond any doubt that she’d never pull this kind of cruel prank. She wasn’t a nurse just because it was a well-paying career. She was kind, and she liked helping people. She’d never consciously shove anyone into a place of pain and rage.
“I’ve had enough of this.” Ash’s announcement, unbending and blunt, caught our attention. “I’m going to put the doll somewhere safe, where no one else can find it. All of you stay in this room until I get back.”
Darcie stared at him mutely as he strode out of the room. The words she spoke in the silence that followed were small and broken. “It’ll never be perfect again even if we get it repaired.” A sob broke out of her. “They used our real hair. Oh God, I burned Bea’s hair.”
Even though I’d already guessed, the confirmation rippled a shiver up my spine, made goose bumps break out over my skin. I wished I’d stroked that hair, taken the chance to touch a piece of Bea one last time.