“The note across it read:
To Anna, we can’t wait to hear you scream at our concert!
“The word scream had been underlined in red marker. My fingers trembled as I turned the Polaroid over. He’d gone out of his way to get it signed by Anna’s favorite band.
“He knew.” Her voice cracks. “He knew.
“It wasn’t a trophy as much as a love letter to his own goddamn crime. I dropped the box and screamed so loud I thought the windows in my car would shatter.
d“I dug my fingers into my hair, pulling at the roots, trying to claw the memory out of my skull.”
Her words start to blur together. She’s not talking anymore; she’s reliving it. She’s slipping under.
I gently cup her face with both hands.
“Lumi,” I whisper. “You’re safe. No one is coming for you. You’re with me, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her bottom lip quivers.
Thalûn ves skarûn. (Gods forgive the mother who bore him.)
I press my forehead to hers.
“I’m right here, Saelûn,” I murmur. “He’s not here. You are safe. I’ve got you. ”
She doesn’t say anything.
I climb to my knees and gather her into my arms, pulling her tight against my chest.Ves’thalûn kar veyr. Veskae narh.(He died outside in the frost. And not even the snow mourned.)
It takes nearly half an hour for her breathing to steady. She doesn’t say another word.
If I had known when I found him in the woods what he put my girls through?—
I would have made his death a thousand times more excruciating.
Kai’sarûn ves saelûn. Nash veskae thal’morin narh etra’kai.(My protected soulmate. I will destroy everything for them both.)
26
PEANUT BUTTER
Anonymous-
I walk slowly, dragging each step on the way back to Andrik’s cabin after hours of gathering what she’d need.
I dropped by her apartment and grabbed only the things she’d miss. The ones that would make our new place feel like home.
Anna’s blanket from the end of her bed—she never sleeps without it.
The half-burned cinnamon vanilla candle from her nightstand—her favorite. She’s repurchased it fifty-six times.
The chipped “Go away” mug—her second favorite, ever since the beast shattered the first.
Her books, the ones with dog-eared pages and notes scribbled in the margins. Her fuzzy blue socks with the little moons. The watermelon chapstick she uses religiously.
A hair tie by the bathroom sink caught my eye. Still holding strands of her hair—dark, with the slightest auburn shimmer when the light hits it just right.
I slipped it around my wrist before leaving.I’ll never take it off.
