The little girl in the corner of the video looks feral. Covered in blood and with wide eyes full of nothing, she stares up at theofficers blankly. The officers whisper something, but my heart is pounding too loudly in my ears to hear or understand.
“Hey,” one of them soothes. “Hey, we won’t hurt you. We’re just trying to figure out what happened here. Can you help us?—”
The little girl screams.
And screams.
And—
I slam my laptop with cold, shaking hands and get to my feet. My movements are methodical as I walk around my room, putting Yoichi back in his terrarium before going to my closet to find real clothes.
My mind is foggy, and more than once I find myself confused about where and when I am.
The cabin.
My closet.
The TV playing home movies of other little girls around my age, smiling up at the man with wide, trusting eyes.
I need to check Yoichi to make sure he has everything. I need my keys, my phone, my?—
As soon as I pick up my phone, it vibrates, and as if summoned by my sudden spiral, I see a text from Cass on the screen, like the kind of divine intervention that only exists in fairy tales.
“Don’t go down the well again, Sierra.”
I blink once. Then again. I stare at his text with eyes that don’t quite want to focus before checking the time.
Seven thirty PM is too early to leave, but I can’t sit around.
I can’t ignore this invitation, since whoever sent it has access to something they shouldn’t. I’m out of my room, dressed in joggers and a hoodie, before I really even know it. My sneakers are on and silent on the hardwood floor, but I don’t go to the door. Not at first.
Instead, I swing into the kitchen and open the drawer near the sink. Rooting around for a few seconds gives me what I need, and I shove the box cutter into the pocket of my zipped-up hoodie, my lips pressed tight.
I’m cold.
But it isn’t the bad kind of cold. No, not in the least. It’s the reassuring cold, the kind that helps me in situations like this.
Whoever is sending me ‘invitations’ and videos is going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that and teach them how to interact with people in the future.
Not that they’ll have a future after tonight.
Chapter
Seven
Waves crashing against the cliffs obscure enough of the noise at the trail to put me on high alert. But the prickling anticipation isn’t quite enough to make me actually afraid, so I sit on the edge of the rocks in as stable a place as I can find with my heels tapping back against stone.
I could get used to being here, I think to myself. There are plenty of little lights dotted along the land on the far side of the water, signaling where big mansions and smaller, modest cottages sit. Though even those modest cottages cost seven figures, I’m sure.
Tilting my head back, I stare up at the moon that’s edging closer to being full. It’s cold tonight, even for March, but I only give a slight shiver. I prefer the cold. Even after being trapped in a barn at night for a few years of my childhood, I still find I prefer the cold weather and being out in it. That, and?—
I don’t know what exactly makes me realize it. I barely move, and I don’t give any indication that I realize there’s someone else here, except to let my hand rest on the box cutter in my pocket.
“I knew you were here,” I call out at last, my voice carrying over the sound of the waves below. “That night. I knew, but I just couldn’t see you. Stupid of me, I guess. But I had other things on my mind.”
“Like your friend. She was crashing around the trail on the way back to the car. Crying, whispering. Apologizing.” The stranger snorts, his voice decidedly masculine even though he barely speaks loudly enough for me to hear him. “I could’ve killed her and dragged her body away before you ever knew about it.”
A shiver ripples down my spine, and it clicks into place in my head that he is definitely not a police officer or detective here to arrest me.
