Page 55 of Virgin Sacrifice

There was officially another killer at Hollow Oak.

Chapter twenty-five

Luz

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Autumn crooned, loudly and off-key as she marched into my room carrying a cake, complete with candles.

“Happy birthday, dear Luz!” she trilled as I pretended to cover my ears with my hands. “Happy birthday to you!”

When I explained to Autumn that I wouldn’t be going anywhere for my birthday, she took it in stride and, before I could even get into the details of my flimsy explanation for spraining my ankle, she had our brunch reservation canceled and was placing orders for some of my favorite foods to be delivered the next day. In less than twenty-four hours, she had put together an impressive spread, including my favorite kind of cake.

She sat on the edge of my bed, holding it in front of me. “Make a wish!”

Smiling, I closed my eyes and blew out the candles, nailing them all on the first go.

“Yay!” she squealed, jumping up and down in her seat.

“Easy there,” I warned, reaching out to protect my precious cake.

Autumn had made it clear that we would be celebrating my birthday “come, like, hell or high water,” forcing me to push everything that had happened on Halloween to the back of my mind.

I couldn’t avoid it forever. Friday’s events had made it clear that I was in more danger than I had thought. But Mami always said that there was a time and place to make a plan, and just as we waited for the right moment to act, sometimes we needed to wait for the right moment to make a decision.

For today, all I could do was celebrate my birthday.

“Big slice or little slice?” Autumn asked.

“Big, please,” I said cheerfully, making a grabby gesture with my hands as I watched her carve a large slice of strawberry layer cake.

She was dressed in what she called “birthday-in-bed chic,” which apparently meant an emerald-green silk pajama suit, complete with marabou cuffs and matching high-heeled slippers. She looked incredible and put my simple white shorts and sweatshirt set to shame.

“Gimme, gimme,” I said, snatching my plate and fork from her hands when she offered it to me, then immediately diving in. I moaned around a mouthful of strawberries, whipped cream, and angel food cake. “Sooo good.”

“You know, I really would have thought you were, like, a chocolate cake girl,” Autumn said contemplatively, as she sat back down next to me, her own slice in hand.

“Mmm, don’t get me wrong,” I mumbled, talking around the cake. “I love chocolate too, but this is my all-time favorite.”

What I didn’t say out loud was that it was one of the few childhood experiences that my father and stepmother hadn’t ruined for me. We didn’t have it often, and certainly not to celebrate my birthday, but I never forgot that first taste of rich cream and fresh strawberries against the subtle sweetness of the sponge.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find any of the food you said your mom used to make,” she said quietly.

For my birthday, Mami always made us pernil, arroz con gandules, tostones, and an apple and cabbage salad. It was always way too much food for just the two of us, so after we had our celebration, we usually would make up plates for whoever our neighbors at the time were and share the leftovers.

They were good memories, some of my best with her . . .

But Mami was dead, and I was alive. It was time for new traditions.

“Aaron and Melody seemed to have a pretty good Halloween from the photos they sent,” Autumn said as we continued to enjoy the food.

I snorted. “If by ‘good time’ you mean they got absolutely wasted, then yes, yes they did.”

Autumn had offered to invite them over to join us but was wholly understanding when I said I wanted to do something with just the two of us. It was a relief since a small part of me was worried that she might not take no for an answer after having to miss out on Halloween. Not only was my dorm room too small to really host the four of us, but I was on edge and didn’t feel comfortable inviting either of them into my personal space.

“I am still upset that I got sick and missed Halloween,” she said with a pout. “My costume was absolutely epic.”

“That it was,” I said, nibbling on two red Sour Patch Kids.

I was conflicted about the nature of her sudden illness. Autumn had recovered incredibly quickly, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would have been for someone to drug her to deliberately make her sick and keep her in. But why?

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