Page 69 of Overcast

“Marty...” She takes a slight step towards me. “No, she didn’t. She’s too short, and the woman who tried to...drown me had brown eyes.”

“No, I—” Reagan cocks her head to the side, challenging me with her stare.

“She did...because I saw her. I dream about her.”

I grind my teeth. No, I watched her. “Rea, you were fucking out of it. That—”

“No, I saw her.” She points at her chest. “She ran away before you got up close.”

“He said her fucking name, Tsarina. Stormi. The dude, Hollis, he even put her there when I questioned him.”

“The man’s voice told her to hurry because it was going to storm, Marty. They argued about the weather for some dumb ass reason.” She averts her attention from me and furrows her brows. “I was even thinking of how stupid it was when she was doing it.” She scoffs. “Fucking weirdos.”

I gape at my sister who appears...normal. That Stormi, the woman I tortured and threatened, is no menace or bother to her. And Reagan’s no-nonsense attitude about being right is making my gut wrench and my brain whirl.

“You need to sit down,” Reagan insists, her hand finding my forearm. “You’re bleeding. What the hell happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Emric.” It’s Stormi muttering somewhere behind me, probably in the same spot I left her.

I shake my head.

No, I can’t be wrong.

I have so much working against her.

Hesitantly, I turn around, not ready to face the woman that I may have hurt for no fucking reason.

When I meet Stormi’s sullen features, picking at her fingers and waiting for me to react, I feel as though someone just K.O.’ed me.

My lips separate, but no words leave them.

What do I say, I’m sorry?

And even now, with everything being said, I’m still not fully convinced. Reagan was trying to regain her breath after her attack, how would she hear all of that underwater?

Or maybe I’m just paranoid as hell.

“Who the fuck is Emric?” My eyes bolt shut at Reagan’s inquiry. One I never wanted to explain to her.

Fuck.

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