Page 26 of Kill, Sleep, Repeat: Vol II

His face goes pale. “I didn’t know?—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I cut him off. “They’ll pin this on you. You brought it here, Max. You gave it to her. You think they’re not gonna figure that out?”

He looks at Hannah, then back at me, his panic mounting.

“She’s dying!” he shouts, his voice cracking.

“Exactly,” I say coldly. “And if you call for help, they’ll know it’s your fault. They’ll figure out what’s in her system, they’ll trace it back to you, and you’ll be fucked. Basically forever.”

His hands shake, his breathing ragged. “I can’t just— We can’t just?—”

“Do you know what it’s like in prison, Max? You’re a small guy, with a pretty face. Not really a good combo, if you ask me.”

He just stares at me, like he wants to say something but he’s misplaced the words.

“No one has to know you were here,” I say, stepping closer to him, my voice soft, almost soothing. “If you leave now, no one will ever know. I’ll handle it. I’ll say I found her like this. That I didn’t see you. You’ll be safe.”

His eyes widen, desperation at first, then something else. Relief. “You’d do that?”

I nod, keeping my expression calm, steady. “Of course. I’m your friend, Max.”

He hesitates, glancing at Hannah again. Her breathing is barely there now, a faint whisper, and her lips have turned blue.

“I—” he starts, but he doesn’t finish.

“Go,” I say firmly. “Before it’s too late.”

He doesn’t need more convincing. He stumbles to his feet, grabbing his phone, his jacket. He looks at Hannah and then at me one last time, his eyes filled with something that might be gratitude or fear or both.

“Thank you,” he mumbles before rushing out the door.

The silence that follows is deafening.

I turn back to Hannah. She’s still now, her chest barely rising and falling at all. I crouch beside her, watching her face, her body.

And then I sit back on my heels, and consider my luck.

No one will ever know. Not about this.

Not about that message I sent to Elliot’s stupid girlfriend.

I’m sorry Hannah has to die.

But it’s better this way.

22

ANONYMOUS

Look, I didn’t intend to get this wrapped up in her life. It’s just…well, it seems like she could really use the help. It started out relatively slowly, not like some great love affair. I just wanted to dip my toe in. Test the waters, so to speak. Next thing I know, I’m neck deep, and things are really starting to get interesting. First thing I don’t understand is how someone who appears to be such a great mother can have no idea what her children are up to.

I mean, I watch her juggle her little family circus, putting on the whole “I’ve got it all together” act. She’ssogood at it. I can’t even decide if I admire her or if I’m disgusted by how much she’s faking. The fact that she doesn’t see it—that the whole damn world is watching her spin her perfect little lies—that’s the fun part. I almost want to give her credit for managing it all without ever breaking a sweat.

But then things start to unravel. You think you’ve got a hold of everything, but then you hear about the OD in London—her younger kid’s friend, no less. I thought it was bad before. The skipping class, the constant need to be on social media, insteadof actuallylivinglife. And don’t get me started on that boy she’s into.

I don’t care that she’s out of the country; it’s one of those things you justknowwill work itself out. At least that’s what I told myself. It wasn’t until later that I found out about the older daughter, and that’s when I realized I’d miscalculated. There were bigger fish to fry. I thought the younger one had issues. Wrong. This kid wasn’t going to let herself slip under the radar that easily.

Sophie? She’s a lot like Charlotte. Both of them think they can hide behind the curtain of their so-called perfect lives. But Sophie? She doesn’t even have the decency to pretend. She’s out there, making her mess in the open, no apologies, no half-assed explanations. I watched her walk into that club in New York, clearly not giving a damn. I should’ve seen the signs, but I was too busy trying to understand the mechanics of it all. Too busy taking stock of the situation.

---