Page 42 of Entangled

“What’s happening?” I slur, struggling to move my head.

“Have I ever told you,” she murmurs, stroking her fingers down my cheek, “how tired I am of being the perfect daughter? The perfect sister? The perfectbest friend?It’s exhausting to pretend I’m this version of myself you all want me to be.”

She leans closer, cupping my chin and sweeping her eyes over my face. “That’s why I killed her, you know?”

My heart thuds heavily in my chest as she climbs to her feet. Metal glints in her hand, and she holds it up when she sees my distress. “It’s a knife, Chloe. Don’t worry, I won’t use it to kill you. I just need to collect some of your blood.” She exits the room. Panic presses on my sternum, fighting desperately for a way out as I try to process what’s happening. My head is a fog.

Dozens of creased notes rain over me in a cloud of confetti. She slaps my cheek again. “Hey, bestie, don’t go to sleep on me yet. See this?” She holds up a note. “Mom wrote me lots of these.”

She proceeds to read out a few. “‘I’ll be gone for the weekend. Help yourself to food in the fridge.’ ‘I left early. Your dinner money is in the envelope.’”

“Hey, hey, hey.” She slaps me again. Once… twice… “Eyes on me.”

“Notes,” I slur because it’s all I can get out as the room starts to spin.

“I kept them throughout the years.” She sets fire to one with a lighter, watching the small flame grow in size. “Hundreds of them. After I killed her, well, every morning, I would reach for one in the shoebox beneath my bed and leave it in the kitchen somewhere. It’s like she’s still here. Sometimes, I swear I can see her in the house.” The laughter that climbs up her throat has a crazed quality to it. “It’s not like much has changed. Instead of her writing the notes, I pick them out.”

“Wh-wh-why?”

“Why what?” she asks, extinguishing the flame and stroking my hair away from my shoulder. “Why did I kill my mom?” Pressing down on my pulse point, she smiles when she feels it racing beneath her fingertips. “I’d had enough of her rejection. See, that’s the thing. Your father loves you. You’re his entire world. He would walk through fire for you. I’m alone, Chloe. No one gives a shit about me. Not even you, not since we were eleven and Dylan, with his stupid skateboard tricks, smiled at you from the sidewalk. Ever since then, I’ve been your shadow.”

A tear seeps out of the corner of my eye. Swiping it away with her thumb, she soothes me. “It’s okay, bestie. It won’t hurt. You’ll go to sleep, that’s all. Won’t it be nice to finally join your mom?”

A whimper escapes my lips, and Willow leans in to press her mouth against mine as if she wants to taste the pitiful sound.

“I killed your mom in the same way. I gave her a little something when she came over to help me with my homework. She was my first kill. I’d grabbed my mom’s sleeping pills from the bathroom cabinet. It was quick. Mrs. Reid drank her tea and fell asleep. Right here where you are now. It’s easy to smother someone when they’re unconscious. You just place a pillow over their head and wait.”

Sliding down the strap of my dress, she palms my breast, soothing me when more whimpers dance between our lips. “You should blame your father for this, Chloe. It’s his fault. I wouldn’t have to hurt people if he didn’t make me feel this way.”

“Please,” I choke out, my eyes rolling in their sockets.

“Bestie, hey, don’t go to sleep!” She slaps me harder this time. “You have no fucking idea how good your life is. How lucky you are to have a man like Mr. Reid to dote on you. You’re his princess, the apple of his eye.” Gripping my chin, she snarls, “Iwant to be the apple of his eye. I want him to look at me the way he looked at your mom. I want him to see only me.”

Choked sobs escape my lips. Pitiful whimpers of fear. Pleading sounds that’ll never form into words.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, kissing my cheek. “You can go to sleep now. That’s it, good girl. Close your eyes.”

A soft kiss on my parted lips. “I’ll look after Daddy now.”

The end.

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