And he is—was my father…
Nausea twists in my gut. How can this be real? Why didn’t Clover ever tell me? Does my mother know?
And why did the person running around in the woods want me to know about this? Wouldn’t they want to cover it up if they were connected to this cult? If it’s my aunt, she has to be connected to it, so why would she offer me this secret? To do the right thing? Highly unlikely since she’s taunting me with it.
It has to be something else.
I think back to that car ride when we moved here…
I think back to the phone call I received from an unknown caller, where I believed I heard Trystan in the background.
I think about the photo we found on the cliffside with the girl in it. She was too old to be my aunt’s daughter, but she could’ve been her sister.
What if my father killed my aunt Marissa's sister because he was with her the same way he was with Clover?
And what if my aunt Marissa killed him that day on the cliff to get her revenge?
My aunt is so timid, but again, so was I. And I’ve felt that rage before, the one where you want to let all the pain go and just set everything on fire. What if she found out my father killed her sister and unleashed it on him?
“Oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick,” I mumble, hugging my legs to my chest.
My mind fills with thoughts of Ellis out there in the dark, in the woods, where bad things happen, how he could be out there with my aunt, who very well could have blood on her hands. I don’t know what to do. He told me not to call the police, but what if he’s hurt? Or worse.
“Are you okay?” Clara asks me as she sits in the chair across from mine.
“I… I don’t know,” I answer honestly. My gaze lowers to the photo. My fingers are shaking, and yet they feel numb. “If Clover was dating my… dating my father, then that means he may have killed her.” It takes all of my willpower not to puke all over the floor. “If not, then it could’ve been Jason. Either way, I’m connected to this because I’m connected to both of them, which means someone in my life killed my best friend.”
“Hey.” She places a hand on mine. “It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”
I unevenly shake my head from side to side, my eyes welling with tears. “I don’t know… It just feels like every connection I have is toxic, and I think that toxicity applies to me too.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re one of the kindest people I know. And you’re here, in this place you hate—which I’m starting to understand why—so you can help solve all of these murders. That’s brave, Ava. Really brave.”
I raise my gaze to her. “Even if it turns out my family are the killers?” A question sears in my tone, asking the question:Do you really believe that about me?
Because I’m not so sure I do.
“You are not responsible for what your family does. And you’re trying to stop what they’re doing. You’re nothing like them.”
Maybe she’s right.
But I’m not so sure I’m fully convinced of the truth of that yet. Perhaps once I’ve helped lock my family away, I will be.
“I’m worried about Ellis.” I rise to my feet and make my way to the window. The porch light is on and casts a glow across the space of land across the street. “He ran after that person who looked like my aunt. What if she’s hurt him? We wouldn’t even know.”
“He has his phone on him, right?” she checks as she moves up beside me.
I nod, allowing the curtain to fall closed. “He does. But what if he’s unconscious?” Or dead? That thought I keep locked up inside the crevices of my mind. “Or what if he can’t get a signal?”
Clara worries her lip between her teeth. Exhaustion is creeping into her features. “Maybe we should call the cops.”
“Ellis said not to,” I remind her, directing my attention back to the window. Doubt pierces me like the moonlight piercing the sky. Am I choosing the wrong path by not calling the cops? I’ve been down a similar path before, where I didn’t call them, and look what that did. I pull the curtain back and look out into the night. “I’m going to try to call Ellis. And if he doesn’t answer, then I may have to call the police.”
She frowns as I retrieve my phone from my pocket. “Wait… What if he's hiding and his phone rings?”
I hesitate with my finger hovering over his contact button. “That’s a good point… I don’t know what to do. I can’t sit hereand do nothing. Ellis wouldn’t do that if it were me out there. I think I?—”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
