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)
“Since you refuse to accept what I’ve already told you,” she said with icy precision, “I cremated my baby sister because the rope that she used to hang herself had rubbed her skin raw, and her face was all puffed up. Nothing of her looked like Beatrice. She also wasn’t found for a few days—there were maggots involved.”
Even as Grace uttered a shocked cry and put a hand to her mouth, Darcie curled up her lip. “Happy now?”
But, forewarned by her earlier description of going to see Bea’s dead body, I was ready this time. “Beatrice would’ve never hung herself.” Quiet. As precise as her own diction.
“She told me once that of all the ways a person could die, suffocation was the worst.” I didn’t blink as I held Darcie’s gaze. “She always said that if she ever had to do it, she’d take a poison that’d put her to sleep. Painless oblivion.”
A flicker in Darcie’s eyes, a skittering.
35
Iwished that my vision was better, that I could be sure, but it wasn’t and so what I saw could’ve been real . . . or nothing but a dance of shadows.
I gritted my teeth.
“My sister was mentally disturbed.” A quiver in her voice, a liquid shine to her eyes. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in what she said before.”
Ash stepped between us, physically breaking the line of sight. “Enough,” he said once more, and this time there was a sense of authority in his tone. “We are not going to start fighting between ourselves when we’re already dealing with a horrific situation.”
He glanced at Aaron. “Do you think you might be up to making us tea or coffee?”
“Sure, of course.” A fervent desperation in this friend who was as gentle as Darcie was hard. “I’ll make grilled cheese, too. It’s way past lunchtime.”
Ash pinned me with gray eyes gone as flat as steel. “I think it might be a good idea for you to sit down and go over your photographs. Take a bit of time out.”
This was the reason I preferred to live life at a distance, behind the lens of a camera; because when my emotions did emerge, they were too big, too wild. It was why my parents had put me in therapy after my adoption at age three. No one knew what had happened to me in the years prior, but I’d come to them with a black rage within.
No one would’ve blamed them if they’d given me back like an unwanted dog.
But they hadn’t. Instead, they’d been my parents. They’d gotten me help—and the therapist had taught me to regulate my emotions. Until now, I couldn’t cry even when I wanted to.
I’d regulated myself to bitter dryness.
“I need to get my laptop from upstairs.” My voice was as brittle as my eyes, a thing arid. “But I don’t think anyone else should go up there. I’ve already contaminated it with my presence, so I can take a list and collect whatever people want. It’s the only way to make sure we don’t disturb the floor runner.”
I glanced at Aaron and Grace, two people I was sure would back me in this. “I also think we’ll be safer together, whether against the snow or . . .”
No one pushed me to finish that sentence, put our fear into words that we couldn’t dial back.
I carried on. “The living area is already warm and we can keep it that way, and the sofas are plenty big enough for us to rest on. We can also drag in mattresses from the lower-level rooms.”
Pretending Darcie wasn’t there, I spoke only to Ash. “Assuming there are any downstairs mattresses that are safe to use?”
A curt nod.
Shifting, he took Darcie’s hand. “I think Luna’s right on this point.” A brush of his fingers over her cheek, but he wasn’t quite looking at her. “It’s going to be impossible to heat all the rooms to the extent needed against snow. We’ll have to take shifts feeding the living room fire as it is, to ensure it never goes out.”
“Kaea’s so sick, too,” Grace blurted out. “The person on fire watch can keep an eye on him at the same time.”
Darcie had looked over when Grace spoke, now gave a hard nod without ever glancing at me.
“Tell me what you want,” I said to all four. “I’ll get it from your rooms.”
This time, Darcie’s glance was cutting. “The rest of us can also avoid the runner, Luna. We’re not blind.” Spite, out in the open, striking a blow she didn’t even realize. “I’d rather you didn’t paw through my belongings.”
“I’ll go.” Ash squeezed Darcie’s hand when she would’ve spoken again. “I’ll mirror your footsteps, Luna, avoid the runner.”
“I don’t mind if you get my things.” Grace’s smile was awkward, a woman caught between forces she had no way of comprehending. “Sweetheart?”