Page 12 of Undo Me

Was this a punishment after all? The ants on his skin had become a vicious mass of fangs and stingers, piercing him, sending fire racing through his veins. Blood in his veins. Blood pumped by a heart beating far too fast.

Something was very wrong. Was this normal? Would he be given life just to die a mortal death? Surely the others didn’t willingly go through this kind of agony year after year.

Dizziness swamped him, and bile rose in his throat as he smelled the stench of garbage and death. The stale tang of sweat. His own?

He gagged, but nothing came out. He was so empty. His stomach began to spasm and he looked up with wild eyes, seeking purchase, balance, in a world gone sideways.

And saw her. The carving in marble. She looked so serene. So lovely.

Familiar.

Why did she look familiar?

He collapsed, glancing down in surprise to see a wound carving itself into his side. He cried out in shock and pain, but before the blood could flow out onto the ground, the wound healed, a scar forming before his eyes. A raised, ugly slash.

It felt as though he’d been gutted. His hands closed into fists, body curling into a fetal position as the pain overcame him.

This was not how he’d expected to start his day.

The last thought he had before he fell into unconsciousness was of the woman in the carving. At least he’d be lying beside her as he died.

It was oddly comforting.

“You really didn’t have to come, Allegra. You’re getting married tonight. You should be relaxing. Getting pampered.”

Allegra slipped her arm through Bethany’s. “Are you kidding? A morning adventure in a cemetery? I’ll take that over a pedicure any day.”

Michelle mumbled under her breath. “Of course my friends love cemeteries. Makes perfect sense.”

Beneath the humor, she was unusually pale and obviously uncomfortable. It only took Bethany a minute to realize why. “Shit, I didn’t even think about that. Is it, um, busy around here this morning?”

Michelle rubbed her arms briskly, keeping her head down. “It’s All Saints’ Day. Think Times Square on New Year’s.”

Bethany shuddered, glancing around with fresh eyes. “That’s more than a little unsettling.”

Allegra’s eyes were wide as saucers as she, too, scanned the area. “I hadn’t even thought about ghosts being here. Well, other than Emmanuel. Are we sure he knows where we’re going?”

“He knows.”

Bethany trudged along beside the two women, cursing herself. She hadn’t considered Michelle’s feelings when she’d asked to come here this morning. Hadn’t considered anything but finding the truth about Isabel.

She was obsessed. That was the only explanation.

She’d spent the last two days immersing herself in Isabel’s journal and studying the trinkets she’d saved behind the panel.

The treasure was exactly what she’d expect from a young woman of that time period. An intricate silver hair comb, a smooth river stone, and a puzzle box they still hadn’t been able to open had all been tucked away in her hiding spot in the wall, along with her diary.

Ben Adair grumbled about wasted years, but even his eyes glowed with interest as he gazed upon the items he and Michelle had spent a lifetime wondering about.

What they’d discovered was that Isabel’s father was an ass. Bartering deals on his daughter’s beauty, holding her hostage to his own greed. He’d sent his wife away when Isabel was very young, and the elder Spaniard missed no opportunity to blame her French mother for all his woes and each of Isabel’s flaws.

Her only solace was her maid, Millie, Millie’s cousin, Catherine, and her little brother, Emmanuel. They consoled her and protected her from her father’s abuse as much as they could. They kept all of her secrets.

She also spoke of a man in her journals. A man she referred to as M.

Just M.

I will love M until I die. If God is good, he will let us find a way to be together.

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