Page 25 of One of Six

There is a very small part of me that believes she got what she deserved, but the biggest part of me knows that she is as much a victim as anyone who has crossed the men in the Lincoln family.

"Beatrice," Judge says in a quiet voice. "Beatrice, I need to talk to you."

I look at Judge and back at the unlit fire. "I'm listening."

"David's going to set it up as a burglary."

I snap my head around, fire in my eyes. "Richard killed her!"

"You don't know that because you didn't see anything."

"His fingerprints are on the murder weapon."

His jaw clenches. "Girl, if you don't want a boatload of trouble, you're going to go along with the story. Your father wasn't here. You understand?"

I don't know why I'm fighting this when I knew it would go this way.

"It would be better if I didn't say anything because I'm not a liar." My body aches as I move from the chair to the sofa. I give the room my back as I curl up and settle down.

Sleep won't come, but at least I can pretend and ignore everyone and everything for a little while.

13

BEATRICE

I wakeup as light streams into the room. It’s morning and I’m lying on the sofa. I frown, wondering what is going on, then the night before comes rushing back to me. Tears pop into my eyes.

"Beatrice?" Evelyn's soft voice washes over me and I turn my head. The moment I catch her eye, my face collapses. I can't breathe, overwhelmed with grief.

Evelyn's arms wrap around me, offering comfort amid my pain. "I'm so sorry, Beatrice," she whispers, holding me close as I let out a heartbreaking sob.

I finally pull away and manage a weak smile, grateful for Evelyn's presence in my time of need. She hands me a tissue and I wipe my eyes, feeling a sense of peace settle over me.

"Come," Evelyn says, leading me upstairs where last night's disaster has been cleaned up. I pause as I'm led past my parents' room until, with a gentle tug, I'm in my bedroom with Evelyn.

"It's my fault," I whisper.

My feet hit the carpet softly, then the tiles of the bathroom floor. My eyes go to my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Bloodshot, swollen eyes stare back at me. My skin is so pale you wouldn't think I'd ever been in the sun.

Evelyn's reflection appears next to mine and I repeat, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have said anything."

Her brows furrow in confusion, but I don't elaborate. I can't say anything. The warning Judge gave me is settling in my head.

“No one can find out what happened here tonight. Do you hear me, Beatrice? If you tell anyone they will have an accident. Do you hear me, girl?!”

"I feel numb," I murmur.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry I wasn't here last night. I should have come back to the house with you."

I shake my head quickly. "No way. You might have gotten shot." I swallow hard. "Will you wait in my bedroom while I wash up?"

"Of course I will." Evelyn kisses my cheek and leaves me alone with my thoughts.

My limbs feel heavy as I soak a cloth under the hot faucet. I squeeze out the excess water and place the cloth over my face. I sigh with relief. My breath is calm before I remove the cloth. I repeat the process two more times before heading to my bedroom to get some clothes.

Evelyn sits in the chair by my window, which overlooks the backyard and the river beyond.

I feel chilled, so I choose a pair of navy-blue running pants with a pocket on the right thigh. I pick out the matching T-shirt and underwear before retreating to the bathroom to get dressed. I brush out the braid and use a navy headband to keep my hair out of my face. The last thing I do is rub some moisturizer on my face. The bruise on my cheek is more visible and tender.

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