Page 247 of Sinister

Arms crossed over her chest, she stares us down with the typical disdain one would expect from her.

“What are you doing here?” she demands in a loud, high-pitched voice.

“Paying our respects to a classmate,” Sin replies in a cold voice.

“He wouldn’t have wanted you here,” she says pointedly, almost jabbing her finger in my chest.

I grab her hand none too gently and twist.

“Great to hear you can communicate with the dead now, Daph.” I roll my eyes. “Because if we’re talking about what he would have wanted, I think he would have asked for a little more effort from you. You could have at least bought some eye drops to pretend you’re actually crying.”

“You bitch . . .” she adds through clenched teeth.

“Sin, would you mind clearing the way for me? I’m not in the mood for an obstacle course,” I sneer.

His eyes twinkle mischievously as he more or less shoves Daphne to the side to make room for me to walk.

“A piece of advice, Daphne,” I say as I stop a couple feet away from her. “You might want to be on your best behavior in case you’re next.”

Gasps fly all around me.

“Did you just threaten me?”

“Threat? Oh, no, it was just a friendly tip.”

With that, I signal for Sin to keep moving.

But before I can take another step, Daphne reaches for me, her hands going for my hair. I can’t say whether I expected that to happen or if my reflexes are just that good, but I half-turn at the right moment. Grabbing her hands before she can grab me, I push her backward.

She wobbles back, her heels catching on a pebble. Her arms begin to flap in an effort to keep her balance and not fall. She’s almost recovering, careening forward.

But something inside me—something vengeful and insidious—doesn’t want her to get off so easily.

I blow air toward her, muttering under my breath, “Fall.”

Eyes wide, body out of control, she stumbles farther backward until a loud thud echoes in the stillness of the cemetery.

Everyone around us gasps in shock.

There, at the bottom of the ditch, and on top of the shiny black coffin, Daphne lies still, her clothes and hair covered in mud.

She’s still, unmoving, for moments on end

“You fucking bitch!” she eventually cries out.

I let out a sigh of relief. She’s alive.

Sin takes my arm and leads me away from the commotion. Yet as we put distance between us and Daphne’s angry cries, I keep asking myself: Where did that malice come from?

69

PETRA

With my parents gone for the next couple of days, Sin suggests we spend some time at the bunker.

My initial instinct is to say no—because, at this point, I don’t know what to think about him anymore. But then I reconsider. This might be the perfect opportunity to search for more clues, and the bunker is the best place to start.

The most urgent thing is to find out whether Sin really is the one who killed the students. Even though I’m almost certain he’s the killer, I still have no solid proof.