I wish I could tell him, try to explain something that still doesn’t make sense to me, but I can’t. There’s no time.
“He smiled at me when he saw me,” Lewis says, his voice trembling. “Right before he shot, he…he smiled.”
His words echo through my mind, warping into something unrecognizable. I see EJ’s face, but his mouth is stretched too wide. There are sharp, beastly teeth where his should be.
His eyes are dark, lifeless. Hollow. Something rotting behind them.
A sound creaks outside the door.
A footstep, I think.
Or maybe just the house shifting.
I can’t hide any longer. Greta’s out there. Conrad. Benji. Taylor is somewhere. None of them know what’s coming.
“We have to go,” I tell him. “I love you.” I don’t wait for his response. I shove open the closet door. The hallway stretches out in both directions, seeming longer than usual in the pale moonlight. The darkness seems to swallow everything.
My eyes struggle to adjust, and the walls look…wrong. Warped. Like Foxglove is breathing.
I blink, sure I’m imagining it.
And then?—
A scream.
High-pitched and cut off too quickly.
Greta.Her voice pierces my chest like a knife. I don’t think. Don’t hesitate. I run.
Behind me, Lewis shouts, calling my name—but his voice is distant. Drowned in static. It’s as if it’s coming from a radio that’s been buried underground.
I sprint down the hallway, following the direction of her scream.
CHAPTER FORTY
CORINNE WILDE - PRESENT DAY
The house is empty, the front door standing open. I dart outside with Lewis in tow, running, searching. Rain pelts me, making it impossible to see.
“Greta!” I shout, trying to determine which direction her scream came from.
I hear it again, this time louder.
It’s as if it’s everywhere, filling the air.Where is Conrad? Where did they go? Did they leave her?Their car, along with Lewis’s, is still in the driveway. Wherever they are, they’re close.
Greta’s cries grow fainter. Weaker.
“She’s hurt…” I spin in a circle. “It’s coming from this way.”
“Wait, Corinne!Wait!” Lewis lunges for my arm, trying to stop me, but he can’t.
As I round the house, someone grabs me.
I yelp, preparing to fight, but Mom’s voice is in my ear. “Shhhhhh.” She squeezes her hand over my mouth tighter. “It’s not her.”
Slowly, finger by finger, she releases her hand, staring at me. Lewis is looking at us both as if he’s in a dream. I don’t have time to catch him up.
“Billie? What are you doing here?”
