Page 28 of Hellebore

I tried to move, to resist the forests embrace. But I couldn’t, I was frozen, still as if already dead.

“I have a plan, just trust me, okay? Meet me at our secret place at first light, I’ll explain.”

Francesca’s voice softened to something hauntingly familiar – that tone she so often used to lull me into security when I was fearful and anxious. The voice, I thought, she used only for me.

“Francesca–” the small voice squeaked, uncertainty softening the edges of her words.

But Francesca groaned, interrupting her with finality as she shouted –

“ISABEL – GO, NOW!”

Truth is a dangerous thing.

A predator with teeth and talons that seek out its prey with unrelenting patience. No matter how fast or far you run, it stalks the shadows waiting for its moment to strike.

The memories crash into me all at once – an overwhelming, gut-wrenching understanding. All the pieces I had lost, now fitting back together as I realise what it all means.

Death kissing my lips, sucking me dry.

I’m dead. It was me they found, murdered, abandoned in the forest to rot away into nothing. And while I am here, feet planted to the earth as I watch mother wail into trembling hands, I am also not. I am invisible, boundless, nothing.

Cold nausea begins to swarm inside me, though is it nausea, or the universe gripping my insides, trying to compel me to face this horror?

Memories flood through my mind – the way air was stolen from my chest, the mask slicing into my cheeks, the moon the last thing I could focus on before everything went dark. The stench of wet earth as it pressed into my skin, filling my nose and swallowing my face. The darkness as earth claimed me – the chill of it, the loneliness.

Isabel slips from the hallway silently, her pace rushed, distant leaf litter crunching beneath her hasty feet.

Branches lash my arms as I weightlessly tear through the woodland, following her with urgency, though the sensation is but a caress across my skin. An emptiness where agony should reside.

And as Isabel slows, glancing around the woodland, a shadow emerges from the nearby trees.

“Isabel?” the shadow asks.

Though, as the sun breaks through the leaves, illuminating them in golden sunlight, their soft edges become the form of a girl.

Danger. The forest breathes into me.

A girl with sable hair and kohl lined eyes.

A girl, chest pulsing with life, her skin flushed with the thrum of blood through her veins. Alive. Thriving in the woods.

They stand together – Francesca and Isabel. Raven’s eyes wide as she assesses Isabel’s urgency. Palms pressed to the quivering shoulders of my sister, her body trembling within the shadows.

“They know,” Isabel warns solemnly. “They know it’s Heather. They know it isn’t you.”

“Fuck,” Francesca breathes, hands threading through loose hair, twisting pieces around her fingertips nervously. “Do they know what happened?”

Isabel shakes her head, an eerie stillness to her as she watches Frannie.

“Are you in danger? We can run away right now, Isa. Together. Never look back.”

Panic lances through Francesca’s voice, a sharpness that slices the air between them.

But Isabel just sighs, a timid smile beginning to tilt her lips.

“No,” she says with a slight shake of her head. “They… they arrested Cole.”

Francesca’s brows dip, her hands dropping to her sides.