Page 134 of The Beautiful Dead

I rolled my eyes, exhaling through my nose.

Remi

Not my fault you weren’t on shift when I visited her last week.

Arti

You could have let me know??

I could have. I didn’t.

Arti and Doll had taken it upon themselves tocareabout me. To pretend I was something salvageable, something worth saving. Doll especially—she hated Domino with a passion,but she never saw the parts of me thatwerehim. Never acknowledged that the monster she tried so hard to protect me from was alreadyinsideme.

Arti, though? He ran Hollow Pines Care Home now since Brielle became too far gone to function. She was barely more than a corpse on borrowed time. Most days, she couldn’t do more than stumble from her bed to the bathroom and back, her body shaking like a live wire, every movement sending volts of electricity through her veins.

Iknewwhat had pushed her over the edge. A sinister smile curved my lips. The moment she saw her baby boy lying lifeless in her basement.

On the days she did manage to pull herself together, I made sure to remind her why she feared her own shadow.

Remi

Margaret told me you were sick.

A pause as three dots appeared and disappeared.

The itch crept beneath my skin, that slow-burning agitation that made my muscles tense, made my fingers twitch. Arti could never just get to the point. Alwaysdancingaround it. Like he was afraid of what I’d say.

My fingers tightened around the phone as Arti’s next message popped up.

Arti

Your mom doesn’t look good this morning. Her heart rate’s dropping. O2 saturation is tanking every hour.

A beat of silence, my heart frozen solid in my chest. I knew this day would come. I’d prayed for it more than I cared to admit, but being faced with the reality of it? I wasn’t ready.

Arti

It’s time, Remi.

I stared at the screen, then tapped out the only reply possible.

Remi

Ok.

Arti

Drive safe.

A snort escaped me despite myself. I didn’t drive. Never had. Never needed to. Domino wouldn’tletme go anywhere without him. It had just become an unspoken rule—I was the passenger, or I was walking. And if I was walking, he was never far behind, lingering in the shadows, watching. Waiting.

I locked my phone and slipped it into my pocket, turning back to my canvas. The figure still hung, motionless, forever frozen in its suffering. Just like mom had been for so long, but now her long night was ending.

I heard him before I saw him. Domino moved like a shadow, silent butthere. Alwaysthere. I didn’t turn when he stepped inside.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, voice low, rich, edged with something dangerous. “Haunting.”

A slow smirk curled at my lips. “You always did have good taste.”

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