I don’t want her.
I only want you.
She’s insane. A murderer.
“I’ll go if you want me to,” Alik says instead of all the things I want. He moves me back to my chair so he can get up.
He doesn’t understand.
He just … doesn’t get it.
More seconds pass while my head spins trying to think of a way to explain it. Alik sighs and heads for the door while my hand brushes over the tattoos on my ribcage.
I close my eyes and take a breath.
“Do you want to know what the birds mean?”
My heart thumps in my ears, making them feel full. Alik could have stopped, or the thumping could be blocking out the sound of his footsteps. Either way, I need to continue.
I trace all seven, now eight birds in the flock by memory like I’ve done a thousand times before. “Damian wasn’t the first person I killed.” My eyes clench at the memories that aren’t really memories. They’re … I don’t know what I’d call them. Gut feelings.
Blood-stained clothes that have shown up in my hamper.
A wallet with an ID of a person whose face flashed on the news the next evening.
An unknown wedding ring found in my pocket.
Money I can’t explain left for me on my dresser.
A hat that didn’t belong to me or anyone I knew.
Bloodied clothes and more bloodied clothes.
Again and again, it happened. And I knew. Even without memory, I knew. There was an owner to that blood, and I’m the one who shed it. I prayed they weren’t dead, but after seeing the man on the news whose ID I had…
I tattooed his bird on me first, as a symbol that although I never knew him, I wouldn’t forget the pain I caused. The birds multiplied as years passed. Until finally, one day, I woke up next to Damian’s body, the horrid truth staring me right in the face at last.
I find the new bird representing Mrs. Barkley and press in, cringing at the sting but knowing I deserve it.
Such a tiny thing. Plenty of space left for more brothers and sisters.
More.
Because there will always be more.
“They’re her victims.” Alik’s voice breaks through the thumping in my ears as he pulls my hand away from the tattoo.
I nod.
Myvictims.
Tears leak through my closed lids, and when Alik cups my face, I find it in me to open my eyes.
His hand falls away, and he waits with a patient expression for me to continue.
“I hate her,” I whisper for the first time out loud. Rage gurgles beneath my skin and sets me on fire, making the fleece feel unbearably hot. I shrug it off my shoulders and take in a steadying breath. “She’s ruined my life and the lives of so many others. She’s… Ihateher. And I hatemyselfbecause of her. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to run away from who she makes me.”
His lips sink into a frown, but he says nothing.