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ebook
First published February 4, 2021
She says she hates masks, but she’s only just learned how to take off her own.
She nods, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I considered us friends. But you were a real bitch when Natalie went missing.”
I glance away. That’s not how I see it, but whatever. I’m not going to waste energy on explaining it.
Clapping jars us from the moment.
I glance around and find Jake standing by our table. He’s the clapper,
loud and slow.
“What a show,” he calls
Except, Theo said I didn’t owe him anything. Caleb said as much, too, when he visited last semester with gifts in tow. Namely, a new computer that I almost refused.
They’re assholes, but they love me.
“Oh, and Sky?” he calls. “Your hair makes you look like a ghost.”
“I’m here,” I say.
She shivers. “I’m not.”
I lean back and touch her cheek. She’s right: she’s not here. Her eyes are
glassy, her expression... wrong. Maybe she’s not awake—maybe she’s stuck somewhere between.
“Where are you, Sky?”
Tears fill her eyes. “In the woods. Will you come find me?”
My heart lurches. “Yes. Always.”
I ignore the fact that he knows my passcode. After the first time he got into it, I changed it. He had been right: setting it as my birthday was dumb. But this one was more creative, and he still was able to guess correctly.
This is why dogs are better, both personality-wise and for protection.
Is, not was.
Verb tense has never been so stressful.
She’s like Schrödinger’s cat—alive and dead at the same time. Both
variations exist simply because we don’t know.
Simple. When has life and death ever been simple?
Taryn sucks in a breath. “No offense, but that woman isn’t your biggest
fan. Was she calling to accuse you of something?”
While Caleb and I have our issues with anger, Theo treats it as his lover. He cultivates it, tends to it. He’s the one I’d never want to cross—and yet, Lucy Page continually does it. Crosses him, pushes his buttons. They’ve done this since middle school, on and off, but it’s becoming more... just more. More violent, maybe? More dangerous?
“You were the one I tried to take,” he admits. “I would’ve recognized you if you hadn’t dyed your fucking hair gray. Or put this stupid thing in your nose—” He grabs my septum piercing and yanks.
