Page 12 of The Wicked

“I’m afraid nobody found the bracelet, ma’am, but if you leave your number, someone will call if it shows up.”

Jeannine offered me a lost property form and a pen, so I shoved the phone into my tiny purse and conjured up a smile.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Instead of my own number, I jotted down the number for the Craft Cabin—I knew it by heart because I bought a lot of supplies there. Or at least, I used to before I was unceremoniously fired for refusing to plan Charmaine Wilson’s wedding, which promised to be anabsoluteshitshow. How long before Kayleigh noticed she didn’t have her phone? Only a minute or two. She couldn’t—

“What’s your name?” Jeannine asked. “I should add that.”

“S…Lisa.”

“Slisa?”

Crap, I was terrible at subterfuge. I’d almost told her my real freaking name. “Just Lisa.”

Although Lisa wasn’t much better. I mean, it was also my real name; I just didn’t use it. Not anymore. Not since I arrived in Baldwin’s Shore and Justine Baldwin told me that Saralisa was too much of a mouthful, and so was Baldwin-Forlani. I would henceforth be known as Sara Baldwin, she’d decided. It would help me to “fit in.” I’d gone along with the plan because nine-year-old me had figured it would be harder for the monster to find me with a new name.The monster.I understood now that he was human, but in the moment he shot my mom, I’d been convinced he was the devil himself. And later, when he showed up in the hospital to kill me as well, I’d been frozen, too terrified to do anything more than tremble and wet the bed when he pressed the pillow over my face. Then I’d heard voices, muffled at first, but one grew louder and more insistent. Demanding.I don’t care about visiting hours. Take me to see my granddaughter right now.Grandpa had been the most tolerable of the Baldwins—other than my dad, of course—and the only one I cared to spend any time with, but he’d still been fond of throwing his weight around. His sense of superiority had saved me that day. As he got closer, the monster had put the pillow down and slipped out of the room, but not before he made me a promise: if I talked, he’d find me.

He’d find me, and he’d finish what he started.

I hadn’t talked.

For sixteen years, I hadn’t breathed one word about what happened that night.

And now here I was—very much alive, about to forfeit the inheritance I’d been counting on for a fresh start, and half wishing the monster had kept the pillow in place for just a minute longer. The past decade and a half had been hard. Every time I saw a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, it turned out to be a freight train, usually with one of my relatives driving it. So many times, I’d cursed the fact that I was born a Baldwin. My father had had the right idea—he’d gotten as far away from his family as possible.

Maybe it was time to cut my losses and leave? If not for the fledgling friendships I was starting to form in Baldwin’s Shore, I’d have done just that.

“You’re in the way.” Frankie Flux glowered at me, arms folded. “I’m about to start my set.”

On any other night, I’d have apologised and scuttled away, but I was sick of being Sara-the-doormat. Tonight, I was Saralisa.

“Didn’t your momma teach you that politeness costs nothing?”

“Nah, she didn’t.”

“Neither did mine. You look like a jackass in those sunglasses.”

I turned on my heel and strode out the doors to the terrace, shaking. Speaking my mind was a rush, but I couldn’t let myself get too used to it.

5

SARA

Kayleigh hadn’t changed her PIN in years. I tapped out 1-2-3-4 on her phone screen, and it came to life. Sheesh, she took a lot of photos. Thousands and thousands, and at least fifty percent of them were selfies.

I sat on the low brick wall surrounding the fountain on the terrace and pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders. There was a definite chill in the air tonight. Beside me, water splashed into a shallow pool, and hundreds of coins glinted beneath strategically placed spotlights, mostly nickels and dimes but a few quarters too. People tossed the coins into the water for luck. I wasn’t superstitious, but I fished through my purse until I found a quarter and threw it in with the rest. Grandpa Baldwin had always said that the Lord moved in mysterious ways, and I might as well cover all the bases.

Back to the phone… I needed a picture of Kayleigh with her eyes closed, or one with smudged mascara, or one where she had spinach stuck in her teeth. Hmm, there was one with her underwear showing… No, she’d probably be proud of that.

“Are you going to keep running away all night?” a voice asked from beside me, and I jumped out of my skin, dropped the phone, tried to catch it, and ended up batting it into the water. Crap!

“I thought the fountain was meant to be lucky,” Prince Charming said, holding out a glass of champagne.

“Shut up.”

Was the phone salvageable? The screen was still glowing, but it also looked cracked. Was it safe to pick the thing up? Or could it electrocute me underwater? I mean, it wasn’t plugged in or anything, but how much voltage was in a battery? Or was it the current that was dangerous? Darn it, I should have listened harder in science classes.

I’d just stuck a hand in the water when I heard the worst sound in the world—a cross between a screech and a whine, and it was coming from Kayleigh’s mouth as she strode in my direction.

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