How did it get to this point when I’ve only known Dahlia for such a short time?
Because a broken soul recognizes another broken soul.
Dahlia. My sweet little sister who wouldn’t harm a fly. My little flower, who wants to be accepted and noticed. To be loved. Fate cursed her with a monster like me who will kill for her.
My lips curl into a feral smile, scaring the front desk woman, who whips her terrified gaze away from me.
Cry, little sister, and I’ll kill them all for you.
It hurts to breathe. I grab the collar of my dress, loosening it to make room. The teacher ignores my frantic panting and guides me through the narrow hallway, and I miss a step when we pass by Jaxon, who’s sitting in a chair, his head leaned back against the wall. Our eyes meet, and the corner of his lip quirks into a cocky smirk.
The fresh memory of what happened in the lunchroom pops into my mind.
Jaxon’s expression darkened, his lips pulled back in a snarl as rage twisted his boyish features. Through all the chaos, he found me and offered a grin that held no humor.
I shiver as a chill scatters up my spine. That creepy grin reminded me too much of all the villains in the scary movies I’ve watched.
His eyes were like dark pits, yawning wide and thirsty for more blood. The lights were on, but nobody was home.
“Cry, little sister!”he’d yelled when the teachers ordered him to the principal’s office. He dug his heels into the floor, bouncing with each yank from the older woman and mandragging him out of the room. Jaxon didn’t look away from me, and his smug smile morphed into a cruel one.
My breath hitched, and I stood from my seat, my legs trembling.
“Call his parents!” one teacher yelled to another, who stalked toward Jaxon with the intention of detaining him too. I couldn’t believe it took three adults to get him to the office.
Jaxon whipped his shoulders and cackled while keeping his bottomless black eyes on me. “Cry, little sister, and I’ll kill them all for you!”
“With me,” Mrs. Morrison snaps, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I have no choice but to follow her into the principal’s office.
The principal turns away from his computer and settles his gaze on me. “This is his sister?” he says as he takes off his reading glasses and stands.
My knees knock together, and I hide my hands behind my back.
“Yes,” Mrs. Morrison says. “Jaxon is waiting outside. Do you want him to come in too?”
The principal shakes his head and comes around his desk, standing at the corner nearest me. “He can wait. Thank you for bringing her to me.”
Mrs. Morrison lingers in the office, unsure if she should leave me alone with the principal. He shoots her an annoyed look, and she reluctantly leaves, shutting the door behind her. I shift my weight onto one shaking leg, and I look anywhere but at the scary man who turns his glare to me.
“Have a seat,” he orders, all emotion gone from his voice. He returns behind his desk and settles back in his chair.
I swallow hard around the lump in my throat and sit across from him. My leg bounces, and I nervously smooth out the wrinkles in my dress while I avoid eye contact with him.
“What’s your name?” the principal asks, breaking the tense silence.
“Dahlia.”
“Speak up.”
I clear my throat and lift my gaze, looking him in the eye for a split second. “Dahlia.”
“Well, Miss Dahlia, I’m sure you know why you’re here.”
I nod, and he folds his hands in front of him on the desk.
“Tell me why your brother beat up another boy during lunch.”
