Page 85 of Buried in the Woods Below

They pout their lips and flutter their eyes. “We’re sorry,” they say.

“No, no. It’s too late for the ‘we’re sorry’ routine. You ladies are in big trouble.”

“You’re not our mom,” Emma chirps. “You can’t make us do anything.”

“You’d be surprised what I can do,” I say, voice ice.

Their smiles falter.

“And when I tell your father your secret—that you pretended to be a dead girl in the middle of the night—well, good luck.”

Emma raises one eyebrow and flicks her tongue through the gap in her teeth. “You have a secret too.” I pause outside the entrance. “We saw you sneak out,” she says.

My mind jumps to the other night. Carlos’s late-night visit. The girl I saw. It was them.

“That’s none of your business.”

She stares at me and smiles but says nothing.

I march them upstairs and shut their door behind them. I don’t care if they sleep. I don’t care if they dream of ghosts. I just want to rest.

I stagger back to my bed and collapse, but peace doesn’t come.

Instead comes the rage.

Rage at this cursed island.

Rage at these children who toy with fear like it’s a game, who lord secrets over me like a guillotine.

Rage at myself—for being here, for losing my temper with the twins, for not knowing anymore whether I’m the hero or the villain.

Chapter 39

September 4

The following evening, Olivia sits curled in the corner armchair of my guest room, tracing the nails of one hand along the cream fabric, recording me on her phone with the other. So far, it’s shaping up to be the worst documentary in history.

The storm from last night has overstayed its welcome, and heavy clouds swallow what little daylight remains. Wind rattles the windowpane, and an unseasonably icy breeze seeps through the cracks.

I fold a shirt and place it in my bag. With each item inserted, perfectly stacked, I feel as though I’m reassembling my life into a tidy little package. I glimpse myself in the full-length mirror. The jagged crack has spread a third of the way down, slicing my reflection in two.

Olivia pauses her recording and rocks slightly. “Are you sure you want to leave?” She pouts her lips in exaggerated disappointment. “I was just getting used to having my bestie back.”

I half smile, but it barely lifts the corners of my mouth. “Yeah. I loved seeing you too, but with what happened to Vivek and Freida, I can’t stay here.”

“Who’s going to take care of the twins?”

“Please, you guys don’t need my help. The twins practically take care of themselves.”

“Aren’t you worried about what the police will think?”

“I’m sure they’ll find me if they need me. Besides, you guys should have family time without a fifth wheel.”

She stands and places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not a fifth wheel. You’re part of the family.”

I wish that were true. My heart wants to believe it, but my head knows better. Thunder growls, as if to say, “Don’t even think about staying.”

I swallow hard. “Thanks for saying that, but it’s time.” A pause. “Besides, we’ll stay in touch. You can visit me in Chicago, or I can fly out to LA.”