My stomach drops and my eyes begin to water.
“It took a few weeks before the side effects started. She started complaining of headaches and dizziness in class. Then she got a cough and severe stomach problems. That’s when I knew it was working, and I immediately stopped dosing her. Watching her grow sick, watching her struggle—I couldn’t keep going.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything but listen as dread paralyzes me.
“But the damage was already done. A few days later, she stopped coming to school. She’d been hospitalized. From what I heard, thedoctors tried hard to save her, but after her organs started failing it was a lost cause. She died on a Tuesday. The day she was gone was supposed to be the best day of my life, but...”
The world spins around me.
“Ikilledher, Maeve.”
I can’t speak as silence stretches between us.
“In middle school, our class made up pseudonyms to paint under, and they became like nicknames for us. My classmates dubbed me Phantom because that’s what I was back then. A ghost of a child. Sad and lonely and invisible. But she was loud and boundless and unforgettable.” Phantom’s deadened gaze bores into mine. “She was an echo.”
32Third Time
They wait a moment, staring at me, studying my reaction before continuing, but I don’t say a word. There are no words to describe it.
“After she was out of the way, I thought I’d finally be enough for them. Despite how much I hated them, there was still this twisted, biological need for their approval. But the weight of the guilt crushed me right away. It wasn’t Echo’s fault, that my life was the way that it was. That blame falls on my parents... and myself. She deserved to live a long life.” Phantom releases a shaky breath. “It didn’t take long for them to notice me breaking, even more than I was before, and eventually, their open contempt and cold shoulders beat the truth from me like a drum.
“But Echo was the final straw. She waited until the day of her funeral to come back to haunt me. I think she did it to trick me, to make me think I’d won, but I already knew I hadn’t. Even though I was the only one left drawing breath... I wasstillthe loser.” Their tone is glacial. “Because I’d sold my soul to the demons inside me.”
Phantom lowers their brush and palette, suddenly looking over their shoulder. At Echo. Their gaze is full of pure, unbridled hatred. “You enjoyed watching me squirm like a bug beneath amagnifying glass, didn’t you?” I tremble as they shake their head. “But maybe not as much as what came next.”
Speaking to me again, they say, “When I told my parents what I did, they weren’t even surprised. That was the worst part. They didn’t even seem concerned about the horrific crime their child had just committed. No, all they cared about was the impact it would have on their preciousreputationif it ever got out. So, they covered it up and shunned me. I was the one piece they could never perfect, a blight in their prized portfolio, and so they discarded me.
“I haven’t laid eyes on them since the night I confessed. That’s why Emmy doesn’t know me. Our parents became friends after my grandmother took me in.” They turn back to the canvas, raising their brush. “It’s disgusting how easy it is for rich white people to get away with murder. I should’ve gone to juvie, should’ve paid for what I’d done, but I didn’t. Echo is my prison master now.”
Phantom steps toward me, their paintbrush forgotten, dangling from their hand at their side, their expression tortured. “Say something, Maeve. Please. Anything’s better than this deafening silence.” Their free hand reaches out. “That’s when Echo’s loudest.”
I don’t flinch as their hand finds my shoulder, a gentle, grounding touch, before it slowly wraps around the side of my neck. Their grip is firm, but not hard. It’s not threatening, this contact between us, instead it’s searching, desperate, almost... sensual, and my body reacts in spite of the truths I just heard. My pulse quickens beneath Phantom’s fingers, and their eyes darken as they register the speed of it, the heat blooming beneath my skin. Phantom steps even closer, so close I could count each of their long, dark eyelashes if I tried. “Maeve?”
I try to speak. Honestly, I do. But I can’t. I can’t find the words, or my breath. My body hums in their presence, begging for more of their warmth, their touch, but my thoughts are an unraveling ball of yarn, each undone thread worse than the last.
Phantomkilledsomeone.
How can a person hear something like that and just keep going? How can I still be this attracted to such a dangerous person? I need to get out of here. I need to be alone. I need to think. If I stay in Phantom’s orbit like this, I’ll never leave.
I drop the painting supplies in my hands and sprint to the bathroom. The door has a lock. I saw it earlier. In my periphery, Phantom’s chin drops to their chest and their paintbrush clatters to the floor a moment later. They don’t try to chase me.
In the bathroom, my breaths come in too fast and shallow, making me dizzy instead of steadying me. I sit on the toilet and put my head between my knees. My tears form small puddles on the concrete floor. Before I know it, I’m screaming. Releasing my fear, pain, and sorrow... for Phantom. If they’d been born into a different family, or lived a different life, they wouldn’t have made the decisions they did. They wouldn’t be haunted by this darkness. Phantom is a product of the environment they grew up in. An environment void of the nurturing love of a parent.
I don’t know how to love.
My vocal cords are on fire by the time I’m spent. I slide down to the floor and rock back and forth, trying to thwart the storm raging within my nervous system.
“Fuck,” Phantom screeches. A booming crash echoes as the floor beneath me vibrates. “You’re right! I know you’re right. I’ve always known you were right. I’m toxic. Vile. Putrid. Bad. Bad.Bad!”
I lift my head off my knees.
“You’ve got what you’ve always wanted, Echo. Me, miserable and alone.”
A moment of silence.
“Not even art can save me this time.” The timbre of their voice is more than hollow. It’s hopeless.
Crashes explode on the other side of the bathroom wall. “I hateyou. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! I hate...myself!”
