Page 40 of Pretty Stolen Dolls

“Benny fed us oatmeal and slop,” I blurt, open and carefree.

Why was I letting my truth out? I didn’t tell anyone this stuff. Not Bo. Not my parents. Not anyone.

“Is that all?” He tilts his head to the side, studying me.

Is that all?I have to hold in my disgusted laugh. We weren’t at fucking Disney camp.

“He was an appalling host,” I mutter, stealing more of his fries.

“I’ve wanted to call you.”

I pick up my shake and slurp on the straw, ignoring the stupid flip my heart just did.

“Really?” I smile behind the cup.

Pulling something from the bag he brought in the restaurant with him, he slides a document to me.

“The clothes on the doll.”

My head swims as I pick up the piece of paper.

“They had your sister’s DNA on them.”

I drop it like it’s on fire and stand abruptly, knocking the remainder of my shake to the floor. It seeps out, cold and unstoppable.

Just like Benny.

Macy.

The waitress hurries over, but Dillon puts his hand up to stop her approach.

“Blood?”

I’m dying inside. I left her. He killed her because of me.

“No,” he assures and stands, taking my hand. “I promise. No blood. Everything is going to be okay, Jade. I swear it.”

“It’s not, though,” I whisper.

Nothing is okay. Nothing will ever be okay.

“It was saliva and a hair.”

I read the files of our case once I made it on the force. They had taken our hair and toothbrushes twelve years ago when the investigation got underway.

“It’s a message,” I choke, dropping back into the seat to stop myself from falling.

“He’s been dormant as far as we know for the past eight years,” he says. “What do you think could have caused the change?”

My head battles with my memories. All those years we were there and he killed until he thought I was ready for…

“She turned twenty-one a month ago,” I murmur, the words feeling sticky in my mouth.

He stares at me, but I can’t look him in the eye. “What does that mean? Why is that relevant?”

Crying, in the dead of night from Macy’s cell, jerks me awake. Benny went to bed after leaving my cell and all has been quiet, so I know it’s not because of him. Ever since he scarred Macy’s face, he gets enraged when he looks at her, blames her for her new look and then punishes her with his belt. His fist. His hate.

“Jade,” she whimpers. “Jade, I’m bleeding.”

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