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)
Another flicker . . . and the house plunged into darkness.
38
That the outage lasted a short two seconds didn’t stop my mouth from drying up, a scream building in my throat. Despite that, I was worried about something—someone—more than I was afraid of the dark.
Carefully opening the cellar door, I went to ask Vansi if she was all right, but caught the low murmur of her voice as she spoke to Nix, and knew I’d only be intruding.
I closed the door without a word and returned to my silent vigil. The knot that sat on my chest was a spiked ball that hurt with every breath. Today, I was glad that Beatrice wasn’t here. Beneath her wicked outer persona, she’d been as soft as a crab without its shell.
Darcie had thought to hurt me by calling me Bea’s puppy dog. She didn’t understand. No one did. Bea hadn’t been the one in control of our relationship. If she had, we’d have ended up in bed, ended up touching in the way of lovers.
In not wanting Bea that way, I’d gained a subtle power over her.
I’d never exercised it, never wanted to exercise it, but that it existed was enough to tilt the balance between us. Because Bea had trouble comprehending someone who loved her simply for existing, for being such a wild spark in the darkness.
No wonder Darcie had always felt as if she was in competition with her sister. In any other family, Darcie would’ve been the shining light. She was stunning, academically gifted, and goal-oriented to the extent of making five-year plans even back in high school. She should’ve been the Shepherd star.
Then had come Bea.
I’d once told Bea that she could be a great actress or powerful politician. “You have presence. People react to that.”
Eyes solemn for once, she’d looked at me and shaken her head. “It’s not a good thing, Nae-nae.” Soft words, bruised gaze. “Sometimes, people want me too much. It’s like they want to eat me up and keep me inside them. It’s terrifying.”
As I stared at the long grains of wood in the wall across from me, her words kept tumbling around and around in my head. What must it have been like to grow up so wanted that it became a weight on your shoulders? A curse.
“People fall in love with me,” she’d added that day. “And they want me to love them back. It’s not enough to be my friend anymore. Not after they fall in love. They want me in a way I can’t give to everyone.”
It’s not enough to be my friend anymore.
I frowned, manacling one wrist with the fingers of my other hand. What had she meant by that? Was she referring to someone in our group? Had one of the others hit on her?
Ash I disregarded. Bea had felt the same for him as he had for her.
Aaron? No, I couldn’t see it. He’d always been too intimidated by Bea. “Goodness, no, Lu, she’d swallow me up.” A laughing confession while we were prepping a tomato salad together in the kitchen one summer’s day, and I was attempting to get the identity of his crush out of him.
I’d thrown Bea’s name out as a joke because the two had no chemistry whatsoever.
“There’s a hunger inside her, don’t you think?” He’d glanced out the window to our tiny back lawn, where she laughed with Vansi. “Truth be, she scares me sometimes, with that wild energy of hers. Energy that frenetic needs fuel to feed it.”
I rubbed my fingers over my wrist, turning the skin red.
Nix, as far as I was aware, had never been that close to Bea, while Vansi was about as heterosexual as they came. She’d been boy crazy since we were fourteen. If anything, she’d been jealous of Bea.
Who did that leave?
Kaea.
The same Kaea who was horribly sick, his skin now holding an ashen tinge.
Forcing myself to let go of my wrist, I stared unseeing at the wall. I could’ve sworn that Kaea had simply never looked at Bea that way; of the two sisters, it was Darcie who was Kaea’s type.
No, I just couldn’t see it. Bea had likely been talking in the abstract.
Pain shot up my arm, and I realized I was once again gripping my wrist. So hard that I’d probably given myself a bruise.
Forcing my fingers to release, I rubbed at the skin until the blood began to flow again, and I wondered what I was trying to prove. That this was all an interconnected conspiracy? That it wasn’t about Darcie’s stalker anymore but Bea’s memory?
Obsession.
The ugly word bloomed in my mind, my face smack-bang in the center of it. I didn’t look away. Because it was true. I was obsessed with Bea. Her death had been and still was a defining point in my life.