Page 46 of Ramsay

Willow

I’m out the following week, and no one comments, because my parents are as lost to their grief as me. I spend hours staring at the floor, fighting the itchy feeling of oblivion that’s just a phone call away.

Although I knew she was dead in my heart, the reality is far more painful, not to mention how diabolical her experience must have been.

Was she alive when whoever cut off her head? Fuck.

I replay over and over how Carmen must have felt during her last hours on earth until I can’t fucking take it anymore, and I text Dixie, arranging to meet her at a party.

She’s still wary around me, but Sabrina’s reveal went a long way to easing some of her suspicions. Thank fuck.

Dixie sends me directions, and I pull up to the forest, by the lake, suppressing a shiver as I gaze into the black night. I can’t see a thing but for a small sliver of the moon highlighting the trees before me, and when Dixie raps on my window, I jump out of my skin, clutching my chest with fright.

She waves at me through the window, and I follow her into the trees grimly, pulling my hoodie and jacket closer. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Dixie traipses along before me, and after a hundred yards or so of the same towering trees and darkness we come into a clearing with a small fire.

Bone gives me a nod from where he's lounging, and Matt, who's sitting on a log, blushes to the roots of his hair when I sit beside him.

I spy Oliver’s sister sitting beside another dude. She smiles shyly before dropping her head. Some part of me feels compelled to pull that shy shit out of her because she’s wasting her life hiding behind that shell.

Then again who am I to talk? I don’t even know who I am anymore.

“You ghosted me,” Bone grumbles.

“Sorry.” I shrug. “I ran into my past.”

He gives me a penetrating look and nods as everyone breaks out their party supplies, alcohol, dope, and to my surprise—chocolate.

Matt gives me another shy smile and offers me a chunk, and gratefully I take the piece and let it melt on my tongue, avoiding the other offerings because I have to.

Resisting my greatest weakness is a matter of life or death, and I chose life. I do. Even if sometimes it’s a choice, I dangle on from the razor's edge.

“So, Willow, where were you all week?” Dixie asks, taking a drink off a bottle of whiskey she passes down the row.

Taking a deep breath, I consider lying, but the odds are this will be in the media. I can’t hide from it.

“My sister was missing. They found her. She’s-she’s dead.”

Dixie’s eyes widen owlishly, and there’s a protracted silence before the others call out well-intentioned platitudes.

“That’s fucked up.”

“Sorry, Willow.”

“Holy shit.”

“Sorry,” Maeve whispers.

Smiling glumly, I say, “Yeah, I guess I knew when she didn’t come home...anyway, can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah, did you see the Sinners yesterday? They were on a rampage,” a dude sitting beside Bone says.

“Huh?” I ask, looking between them.

Dixie gives me a sly smile. “Rumor has it, some stupid sophomore with a death wish came at Ramsay. I didn’t hear the particulars, something about his sister, but it was epic. He got the shit beat out of him and then some.”

“Sister?”

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