Page 11 of For Wrath

The realizationthat it had been far too long since they last spoke settled like a stone in herstomach. In those days gone by, they shared secrets, dreams, and a bond thatseemed unbreakable. But now, as the years stretched out between them, thedistance between the sisters had grown from more than just miles.

She traced afinger along the edge of the frame, feeling the cold material beneath herfingertips. It was a tangible reminder of the gulf that now separated them.Their lives had diverged so drastically over the years – one filled with glamourand excess, the other rooted in simplicity and contentment.

"Would youeven recognize me now, I wonder?" Bethany asked the smiling face in thepicture, her eyes clouding with unshed tears. She put down the photo and tookout her cell phone. Bethany's fingers hesitated over her phone as shecontemplated calling Mary. She could almost hear her sister's voice, warm andfamiliar, like a comforting embrace after all these years. But the uncertaintyheld her back. How would Mary react to her call? Would she even want to speakwith Bethany?

"Mary doesn'tunderstand me," Bethany murmured to herself, shaking her head. "Shenever understood why I chose this life."

She glancedaround her lavish living room, taking in the ostentatious display of wealth andluxury that surrounded her. The opulent house was a far cry from the humblehome they had shared as children, and she knew her sister would disapprove ofher choices.

Mary alwaysthought my pursuit of beauty and status was shallow, Bethany mused, her mind drifting back to their years when she firststarted dabbling in cosmetic procedures. But she never had to worry aboutlosing her looks, did she?

A bitter smileplayed across her lips as she recalled the stark contrast between them. Growingup, Bethany had been the beautiful one, turning heads everywhere she went.Mary, on the other hand, had always been plain – not unattractive, butcertainly not blessed with the same stunning features as her sister.

Time has beenkinder to you than it has to me. You had nothing to lose while I've beenfighting against the inevitable.

The countlesssurgeries and treatments she had undergone flashed through her mind, each one adesperate attempt to hold onto the fleeting beauty of her youth. In her owneyes, she still looked good, but the reflection staring back at her seemed morelike a stranger with each passing day.

The silence ofthe empty house echoed her thoughts, reinforcing the loneliness that had becomeher constant companion. And as she looked at her sister's smiling face in thephotograph, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Mary had foundsomething far more valuable than beauty and wealth.

"Enough,"Bethany murmured, shaking her head. "Forget about Mary." She strodeaway from the mantle, the dim glow of the fireplace casting long shadows acrossthe opulent room.

The plush carpetwhispered beneath her feet as she approached an overflowing bookcase, itsshelves lined with leather-bound volumes and gilt-edged tomes. Her fingersghosted over their spines, feeling the embossed titles as she searched forsomething to occupy her thoughts. The familiar scent of aged paper filled hernostrils, offering a fleeting comfort amidst the emptiness of her home.

"Ah, thereyou are," she said, selecting a worn copy of "Rebecca" by Daphnedu Maurier – one of her old favorites. But just as she started to withdraw thebook, an unfamiliar noise echoed through the house.

Her heart skippeda beat, and the book slipped from her trembling fingers. It thudded to thefloor, stirring up a cloud of dust motes that danced in the firelight. Bethanyheld her breath, straining to listen past the blood pounding in her ears. Itwas a faint scratching sound, like nails on wood. She didn't have any pets, andshe lived alone – so what could be making that noise?

It was probablyjust the wind, she reminded herself. But despite her attempts atrationalization, a cold shiver of dread slithered down her spine.

Gathering hercourage, she left the sanctuary of the living room, her hand trailing along thewall as she navigated the darkened hallway. She hesitated for a moment at theentrance to the kitchen, her eyes scanning the moonlit space for anythingunusual.

Thestainless-steel appliances gleamed under the silvery light filtering in throughthe window, and the granite countertops seemed to absorb the darkness, creatinga stark contrast. It was as if the room had been dipped in shadows, all colorleeched away by the night.

"Nothinghere," Bethany whispered, her breath misting in the chilly air. "See?You're worrying over nothing."

She leaned againstthe doorframe for a moment, trying to shake off the unease that still clung toher like cobwebs. Glancing out the window, she noted how impossibly dark it wasoutside – as if the world beyond her home had ceased to exist. The blacknessseemed to press against the glass, eager to breach the barrier and swallow herwhole.

Stop being sodramatic, she chided herself, pushing away from thedoorframe. It's just your imagination. And with that, she turned toleave the kitchen, determined to let go of her fears and lose herself in thepages of her book.

But somewheredeep inside, the disquiet remained, whispering that something was amiss. And asBethany struggled to ignore it, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was nolonger alone in her lonely house. A shiver ran down her spine, and she couldn'tshake the sensation of eyes watching her intently from somewhere within thedarkness.

"Okay,enough. This is ridic–"

Her words weresuddenly cut off as a black bag was yanked over her head, plunging her worldinto darkness.

Panic surgedthrough her veins, and her lungs felt as if they were constricting, making itdifficult to breathe.

“Help!” shescreamed, her voice trembling as her hands clawed at the fabric, desperate tofree herself from its suffocating embrace.

"Shh,"a gravelly voice hissed in her ear, the sound sending chills down her spine."Not a word."

Bethany's heartraced, thoughts of Mary and their estrangement momentarily forgotten as fearconsumed her. As she struggled against her unknown assailant, she couldn't helpbut wonder if this was the price for the life she had chosen – a life full ofriches but devoid of love and companionship.

And now it wasall about to end.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The first lightof dawn was still hours away as Morgan stepped out of her house the nextmorning, Skunk bounding by her side. They walked in silence through the quietneighborhood; the only sound the distant hum of traffic and the occasionalrustle of wind-blown leaves. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting forthe sun to bring it back to life.

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