Page 47 of The Favorite Girl

“Layla.” I dropped us both back to the floor, completely defeated and drained. My sister’s body was shattered, physically and emotionally. She was dying. They’d never call for help; they’d let her endure every ounce of pain.

“This is the only chance you’ll have. Please… Demi, run. But don’t let me…” She paused as tears rolled down her face, then she opened her eyes slowly and looked at me. “I’m… already dead.” She looked at my hand, trembling against the knife. “You have to live for us both.”

“I love you so much. Forever.” She began to cough, but her bottom lip was still caught in her teeth, and it tugged so hard, she choked on her own blood.

I couldn’t stop crying as I lifted the knife. “I love you so much, Layla. Always.” I slammed my eyes shut as the knife slid into my sister’s body.

I plunged the blade over and over again, until I heard the crackling of her cries stop. Until I knew she was no longer suffering like roadkill.

And in that moment, I died, too.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

I got into bed and stared at the ceiling. No one in this world knew that Layla called me Demilion. I had no friends, and I had no family, so Conrad calling me that made no sense. Between every scenario and every single thought rampaging through my mind, I couldn’t sleep, though I knew I needed to. I didn’t know what to do. Part of me didn’t know if I could even believe myself. Why would the police allow a family to do something illegal? Charlotte was a huge, well-established city. Did I suffer from so much of my own trauma that I couldn’t handle this?

Eventually the questions I couldn’t answer ceased, and I fell into a deep sleep.

A slight buzz from the small alarm clock echoed and woke me. For the first time in a very long time, I felt well-rested. I didn’t feel hungover or deliriously fatigued. I felt… better?

Peeling the soft blanket off my body, I had to find answers. I know without a doubt that Conrad and his parents knew far more about me than they let on. I needed to talk to the girls… the caged girls. I had to find out if they were here by their own free will to actually be helped for a drug addiction or if they were being tortured. I was leaning toward the second option, but I needed to know for sure. The more I thought about the caged girls, the more questions began to form. Why did they only eat all-white food? Why did they shave their heads? Why did everything have to be completely silent? What about the room full of wigs? No, this was wrong. I had to find a way out and not just for me, but for them, too.

I showered, shaved, brushed my short, blonde hair that I was still not used to, and slid into the white ensemble. Staring back at my reflection, I licked my thumb and brushed my thick brows into place. The door of my bedroom slid open, and Bradley was waiting right outside. Seeing his face had become oddly comforting to me now.

“Bradley.” I sighed as I walked toward him.

“Demi…” He glanced up at the ceiling before moving two steps over and tugging me to the side. Throwing his arms around me, my eyes widened as he quickly hugged me and my body stiffened in shock.

“I’m glad you’re alive. Can you stop being fucking reckless?” he said softly into my ear, his warm breath sending chills down my entire body.

Pulling away, I looked at him and smiled. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my cart toward me. But this time it wasn’t cleaning supplies; it was his usual cart full of steel-covered meals.

“Wait? I’m not cleaning?”

“They want you to serve the food first, then we will pick up your cart so you can clean Dr. Ivory’s office before our next tasks.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Help you.”

“Fine.” I pretended I had a say or a choice in what my role here was, but I didn’t. I rolled the cart behind Bradley as we made our way to the Ossis wing.

“What does Ossis even mean?” I questioned.

“Bones.”

My breathing hitched as Bradley continued to walk without stopping for a moment. I knew Dr. Ivory was an orthopedic surgeon, but why would he call a space in his house ‘the bone wing’ if it was a floor of women they claimed to be helping.

There are questions you want to know the answers to, and others where you know that if you find the answer, you’ll be worse off. This was a question I knew I had to push aside. I didn’t have the mental strength to handle something more. This was already too much.

The first door slid open, and my heart immediately began to pound rapidly. The girl was laying on the small cot with headphones on.

“Is she listening to music?” I asked Bradley, but he immediately slammed his hand over my mouth and shook his head, implying I needed to stay quiet. I saw a small table that I was supposed to put the food on. Reaching into my cart, I uncovered the meal and saw the small cup of plain milk, white rice, and yogurt—all white.

Trudging slowly to the bedside table, I held my breath as I gently placed the food down. The girl was lying down with her eyes closed and her hands intertwined.

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