Right. She wasn’t helpless. She could take care of herself and then she could leave. And then, when this place was far, far away—deep in her rearview mirror—she could let herself weep.
Dressed now in sweatpants and a faded old t-shirt, she picked up her phone and pulled up Deena from her contacts list.
Hi Deena, it’s Nadine. Could you do me a favor? Could you pick up some Plan B for me from the general store if they have it? Please don’t ask.
Deena responded almost immediately:WHO???
Nadine closed her eyes briefly.
I don’t want to say. Just please bring something. And say it’s cold medicine, she added impulsively.In fact, just take it out of the box and put it IN a box of cold medicine.
Ok but there’s a landslide blocking the main road out of town, Deena said.And I don’t want to have to look Helena Peters in the eyes while buying it. It’ll be all over town by noon. Let me see what I can do, okay? In the meantime, sit tight.
Landslide??Nadine wrote.When?
Last night. From the storm, I think. Sheriff Crocker and his son are trying to assess the damage and figure out who they can call to clear it out before the festival.
A chill arced up her spine. She couldn’t get out of town.
She wastrapped.
“Miss?” There was a knock on the door. “Are you coming to breakfast?”
“N-no,” Nadine said. “I—I don’t feel well. I think I’ll stay here.”
As if she had a choice.
A story she’d studied in high school floated into her head. A family under a curse, laboring under the twisted banner of death that walled maidens into the catacombs and left them to die.
The maid must have gone right to Cal because a few minutes later she heard him say, “Holly says you aren’t feeling well. Open the door so I can have a look at you.”
With a sickening jolt, she remembered the thought she’d had at the vanity—the one about the bite she’d woken up with on her throat. She’d been terrified to go down to dinner because she didn’t want the person who’d left it there to have the satisfaction of admiring it. Now she knew thatCalhad been the one to leave it there and he’d likely been doing exactly that all along.
Perhaps he’d like to admire it now.
“Leave me alone,” she said shrilly. “I don’t want to seeyou.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You already did,” she said to the door. “Remember?”
There was a pause. When he spoke again, some of the warmth had left his voice. “Don’t make me get the master key, Nadine.”
There was a master key? So all those times she had locked her door, feeling somewhat safe and sequestered, someone could have come into her room at any time?
Or maybe they already had, she thought, staring at the paneled wood.
(it’s too late to leave)
“Nadine,” Cal growled. “You—”
She swung open the door before he could finish, on those lethally silent hinges, and gave him a hot glare. He was wearing black jeans and a waffle-knit Henley, filling out both in a way that made him hard to look at. She saw his eyes flare as he took in her wet hair and damp shirt, seeming to find the latter of particular interest.
Folding her arms tightly, she said hostilely, “What?”
“You’re pale.”
I wonder why.“I heard there was a landslide.”
