Page 39 of Unstable

Cocky PITA: Again, no clue what you mean, but I’m not worried.

Me: Ttyl, maybe.

Honestly, I’m not worried either. Eatin’ Ass is a lot of things, but somehow, omnipotent Gatlin is right, a liar isn’t one of them. I’m more concerned about what kind of deplorable human being it makes me to read my deceased twin’s diary.

My only excuse a dream.

“Got it,” Gatlin comes bounding into the room, holding the diary in the air. I quickly silence my phone and shove it under the couch cushion.

“You’ve been so brutally honest all night,” I chew on the side of my thumb, “don’t patsy me now. Do you really think it’s okay for me to do this? Read her private thoughts?”

“Let me ask you this, did you know where she hid her diary before?”

“No,” I answered immediately and completely truthfully.

“Then yes, I believe in powers beyond, and it’s no coincidence you suddenly knew right where to look. She really did tell you to read it, Henley. There’s something she wants you to know.”

He hands it to me and I smooth my fingertips over the soft, worn leather, pretending I can feel her spirit by doing so. “Gatlin, thank you for everything tonight, but, I’d like to be alone for this.”

“Of course. I’ll lock the door behind me. Goodnight, Henley.”

“Night,” I speak to the air, staring at the diary in my hand. “Hadley,” I talk to the air once again, “if you don’t want me to do this, send me a sign right now.”

I wait a full ten minutes, growing more tense with each one and when nothing happens, I take a deep breath and pick the lock, opening it to the first page.

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