Page 5 of Chaos Crown

But I did.

Fragmented pieces formed a picture of me and a brunette Blake Jensen, laughing and joking while doing target practice on a hay bale. Who would I let touch my precious bows and arrows from Gran, other than a friend?

“There it is,” she hissed. Zoey was suddenly in my face, bending my neck back by the hair. “See? I knew you were still in there, Angel.”

“Stop. P-please.”

“Oh, now you beg? We begged.” She dug the arrow tip in my neck, breaking the skin. “Scott asked you to sacrifice one worthless guy to further our cause, and you refused. Said you didn’t get into this to hurt innocent people. We tried to make you see!”

My head shook in her grip.

“No one is innocent, but everyone is honored in sacrifice.”

“No.”

The pressure in my skull was unbearable. Each horrid word from her snarling lips drove the spike deeper, unleashing a flood of memories that couldn’t be true!

“The sheriff had something we needed. All of a sudden, the stubborn oaf grew a backbone. Refused to give Scott what he asked, so he ordered you to sacrifice the sheriff’s son.”

Eyes huge, Cairo stopped struggling.

“But oh no,” Zoey carried on. “Cairo was innocent. Just a teenager. There had to be another way. Blah, blah, blah. Scott said you had two days to gut the guy, or you’d watch while I did it. You walked into the sheriff’s station that day and told Davidson everything.”

“No,” I whispered.

Yes.

I remembered the station bell chiming. Recalled Davidson’s smile as he said the sheriff was out, but he’d be happy to help me.

Zoey tsked. “Such a shame. If only Andres was on shift that day. We’d be in prison, and none of what came next would’ve happened.”

“Oh no,” I breathed, folding onto the pavement.

My hands came off the ledge and Zoey didn’t care. Glee twisted her smile as the spike pried loose the final memory.

“Yes, Angel.” Her voice neared a soft coo. “You remember how we punished you. The night we busted into the farmhouse, catching you making a cup of tea like all your troubles were over. What did we do, bitch?”

I tossed my head, shaking roughly. But the vision would not stop unfolding.

The body in the barn. Broken, twisted, and beyond help.

“What did we do to you?”

The woman—for now I knew she was a woman—that I buried at Black Widow Hill, did not answer my calls then, nor did she in the memory.

I heard the name I called her. I saw her face when I flipped her over.

“What did we do?”

“You killed me,” I whispered, pain fading as it all came back. “I died that night.”

“Yes.” Zoey released my hair and stroked my cheek. “That’s it. Remember.”

“I forgot about dying.”

My voice was small. Pleading.

“How could I forget?”

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