Page 50 of Our Darkest Summer

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A break-in.

A mask.

An Ancient Greek comedy mask.

Sage.

Thomas.

I was with Thomas. I was at school—no not school.Coldwater.There was a party, and then someone broke into the lake house.

A flicker of movement caught my attention, and I jerked my head toward it.

Nothing.

Or maybe it was just a deer. A trick of the darkness. I exhaled shakily, grounding myself, but then I saw him. Standing there. Watching me.

Thomas.

“Thomas,” I called out, relief surging through my chest.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t say a word. Why was he just standing there?

“Thomas?” I took a hesitant step toward him, but something caught me?—

Held me back. My breath hitched as I twisted around, and froze. A white mask stared back at me, its gaping smile stretching impossibly wide. The cutouts for eyes were empty. But I could still feel them watching me. A sharp, searing pain bloomed in my stomach.

I gasped. My vision blurred as nausea clawed its way up my throat, my hands flying instinctively to my abdomen.

Warmth, sticky and wet.

My fingers trembled as they met the blade—buried deep, slicing through flesh, cutting through me like I was nothing at all.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t scream.

I just stared at the dark stains spreading across my top, at the way red seeped into white.

“Thomas.” The name fell shakily from my lips, and my head snapped to him. To him standing there, watching from the shadows.

The tears burned my eyes, hot and furious, rolling silently down my cheeks.Why wasn’t he helping?My body swayed. I was going to die. Frozen in place, like a deer in headlights.

Then he moved, and my heart lurched. But instead of coming toward me, instead of helping?—

He turned, and walked away.

No.

No, no, no.

“THOMAS!” I screamed, gathering every last bit of air in my lungs, but he didn’t stop.

Didn’t even look back.Why was he leaving me?

“THOMAS!” My voice cracked from desperation.

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