Page 63 of Queen Rose

Aria

It’s really too bad that I can’t hide out at Nate’s forever with his family because it had done me a world of good to be with them yesterday. They are what a family should be. They are everything I wish I grew up with.

Despite all my best efforts to forget—which I’m usually really fucking good at—everything that’s happened in the last week weighs on me. I get all shaky and weird every time I think about my aunt and Conner and the horrible image that is forever imprinted on my brain. I wish I could bleach my eyeballs or somehow unsee her dead body lying there on my bed. I wish I could sleep through the next month, but when I close my eyes, I see her. And in the back of my head, where I’m trying to avoid the truth, I can only assume Conner is unraveling. And if this is how it begins, I’m terrified to know what he’ll do next. I don’t know if I can step foot back inside that house. Ever.

Seated in Madame Donnet’s French class, I smooth my sweaty hands down the skirt of the hand-me-down uniform that I’d given Lyla a few months back. Going to school today is not something I’d wanted to do—or had even intended to do—but… I glance down at my phone again, not believing my own damn mother actually sent these texts. She’s off her fucking rocker.

Mom:You’d better be going to school today.

Me:I don’t think that’s wise.

Mom:Warringtons don’t hide from trouble.

Me:Do you even hear yourself?

Mom:Don’t be smart with me.

Me:I’m not trying to be smart. I’m trying to be normal.

Me: Christina is DEAD.

Me:Do you not care?

Mom:Of course I do. Your father is devastated.

I’d stared at the screen for a long time, thinking maybe she’s more affected by this than I thought. Maybe she’s self-medicating again and is out of her head. That wouldn’t be a stretch for her at all.

My initial plan had been to stay at Beau and Griff’s, watching movies down in their TV room while everyone else went back to school now that spring break is officially over. But then Mom’s texts had come in, and I had a little panic attack while eating the delicious waffles that Darla, one of the Danbrooks’ housekeepers, had made for me.

Lyla had immediately swooped in when she saw the look on my face, offering hugs and asking what was wrong. I managed to stammer out that my mom wanted me to go to school but I didn’t think I should go, and then all in the same damn breath, I started crying because I didn’t want to be alone. That’s when we made the decision that I would get dressed and go to school.

I still don’t know if it’s such a hot idea, considering things hadn’t been great when spring break started—especially where Farrah is concerned—but I’m here, and I’ve been okay so far. Madame Donnet is going on and on about how important it is to study our verb conjugations and practice our French at home, and all I can think is merde as my phone keeps vibrating on my lap where I’ve hid it under the desk so I can sneak peeks.

Mom:I’m guessing you went to school since they didn’t call.

Mom:Also, we’ve got 150 coming to your party on Friday.

My eyes bug out. She’s got to be fucking kidding me. My hands sweat some more as I pick up the phone to text back.

Me: Are you joking? We can’t have a party.

Mom:It’s paid for. People are coming.

Mom:I can’t cancel now.

Me:But you can. Christina was murdered in our house.

Me:What. The. Actual. Fuck?

She’s gone quiet again, but I know she’s not done. Not by a long shot. A minute later, more texts pop up.

Mom:Stop being a drama queen.

Mom:The police said the house will be cleared by Thursday for us to get back in.

Mom:I’ll have a crew in to clean it top to bottom before the party.

Mom:Life goes on.

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