Page 131 of Pretty Nightmare

Something better.

That’s why I was wearing a tux when McKay’s call came in.

The day Indie Anna Accorsi decided to come back into our lives I was at Ana Avery’s funeral.

I know what I said. I know. I was there.

I told her, “No, thanks. I don’t need the help. I need to do this myself.”

Because I knew what would happen if she got my secrets. I knew.

This is what would happen.

Her funeral.

Which was a grand black and white affair up in the Ten Sleep, Wyoming, Healing Center. A charity event, because that’s the kind of woman she was.

Ana Avery was the real fucking deal.

Kind. Pretty. Generous. Compassionate.

People like her don’t cheat.

People like her die.

With integrity.

I don’t realize I’m awake until Indie squirms on top of me and shifts position, sliding off the side of my chest and turning over. Her face pressed into the pillow. Her breathing deep and even.

We’re in one of the bedrooms along the breezeway that leads to the great room. McKay and Adam are in the one next door.

Everything smells a little musty in here, but we didn’t care. It had been a long day for everyone. I don’t know what happened on McKay and Adam’s trip. Something, obviously. Because Adam looked wrung out when we were in his office.

But I know what happened on my day.

There is no river town.

Those things Indie wrote in that journal about the river town never happened.

And if that didn’t happen, what else didn’t happen?

Was any of it real?

Hell, I’m starting to believe none of it was real. Not this house, not these people, not the swamp outside, or the boy who lived in a cottage across the duck lake that is no longer there.

And there was never a Carter, was there?

He wasn’t real, was he?

Ana tried to tell me so many times that I just made him up. But it’s not true. It would be very comforting and convenient to think that all this shit that has happened to us was just a dream or an illusion.

But it’s not.

Indie really was bought at an auction. We really did send her on missions to clean things up for the Company. There really is a Company—still is a Company. And Adam is running it. Or maybe Nick? Or maybe someone else. Maybe Carter?

Carter is real. And he’s close. I can feel him.

I slip my arms around Indie and hug her. But it’s not Indie I’m hugging. It’s Ana.