Page 65 of Alamort

I’ve never been to a Halloween party. I’ve seen the trick-or-treaters walking around our street before. But most of the time I’m roped into some “important” political dinner for my father. He’s been trying to get his greedy claws into a senator title the past couple of years. Every year he swears it’ll be the year. Reminds me of when people talk about their favorite NFL team, and still don’t win.

“I’ve never been to one,” I say nonchalantly. Despite the cover of darkness, her widened eyes shine bright white, showing that her previous thoughts have vanished. Plotting, I’m sure.

“Priya!” she shrieks, causing my head to throb. “You’ve never been to a Halloween party?”

I wish this time her excitement was contagious enough, but the only thing I can think of is wanting to go to my first one with Addi. She would have loved to have gone. To satisfy her love for holidays, she would dedicate her room as a sanctuary, filled with festive decorations that were banned from the rest of the house.

“This year, it’s a black light circus/carnival themed! It’s going to be amazeballs.”

“Please feel free toneveruse that word again.” I giggle at her ridiculousness. Her chilly hands grab at my unusually warm ones that were tucked under my cheeks and hold them. She looks at me. Her eyes betray the seriousness she’s trying to project with mischief.

“We have to go together. Nonnegotiable.”

“Riv, that’s really not a good day for me. I’d realistically just like to stay and relax. Plus, who knows how I’ll feel by that day? I can’t miss something I’ve never had.” My words may convey one thing, but the true meaning runs much deeper. I’ve never celebrated my birthday and anytime I’ve had hopes, my parents ruined them. Forgetting or ignoring the fact I was born that day. I don’t want to hype myself up over having a “good” birthday.

“Oh, we’re going. There is no way you won’t be back in class on Monday, Miss Straight-A student. I was just hoping by giving you a choice you’d choose correctly. You didn’t. I would start looking for an outfit. Everyone dresses up. That isn’t an exaggeration. I already have my costume in mind.”

Fine, I’ll bite. “What is it?”

She playfully smacks me and tells me it’s a surprise. I roll my eyes and wince at the movement. I need to go back to sleep to sleep off this concussion. Nothing a little sleep won’t fix, right?

River finally settles back down into bed and cuddles up close to me. I’ve never really felt like a big sister before, but River makes me feel that way. Even with her head laying on the pillow next to me with her eyes closed, I can still feel the excitement vibrating from her.

“Go to sleep, River.” I scold. She pretends to snore like she’s actually sleeping. I pull the comforter around her shoulders and tuck her in before pushing a piece of her dark bangs that falls over her eyes behind her ear and close my eyes. If this is going to be my last birthday, I can have a last hurrah. Sleep tonight and plan a kick ass outfit. My decision has me feeling the peace I’ve longed for my entire life. There’s just one little thing…

“Hey, River?” Her fake snores stop as she peeks an eye open. “I haven’t really had the time to tell you about my recent discovery. A lot of things have happened back to back,” Oscar, the Demons. It never really seemed like the right timing to reveal to her what I found out. “But that day in the hallway before…”I swallow around saying his name because the thought of Oscar Bush makes me want to vomit, knowing I haven’t retaliated in the slightest. “Anyway … I noticed the student photos of the school and three years ago when the guys were freshmen, Megan Riley was here too.”

My eyebrows draw together when her body tenses next to mine. I haven’t even said what I was going to say yet. All the times I’ve brought up the missing girl from the gas station to River, she’s reacted negatively. I know I’m not Nancy Drew, but it is suspicious.

“She looked cozy with Saint. At the least, friendly. For the rest of the years, everyone keeps a noticeable distance from the boys. That’s weird, right?” I ask for reassurance that I wasn’t crazy for thinking that way.

“Mmhmm.”

I shrug and shake my head, clearly not getting anywhere with her on this topic. For the last time I drop it. It won’t matter anymore anyway.

Resting my head on my computer desk with countless open tabs, I absentmindedly squish my blue ball. Its pliable texture offers a soothing sensation. The tabs contain a mix of Priya’s texts, searches for her sister, and still photos capturing the man in black. I pause my squeezing, and like a vacuum, the goo inside the ball sucks back, regaining its normal circular shape.

It’s kind of strange the differences between the sisters. In siblings, there’s striking similarities they inherited from their parents, but Priya looks so out of place with her family. It could be she looks like her mother. Lacking the coldness that her mother carries. Some would call it ruthlessness, but I know better. Even pretty faces can’t hide the wickedness lying underneath. Malice’s attention to detail is rubbing off on me.

I throw my head back and let out a groan while staring at the ceiling. Everything is falling apart before our eyes. I understand why the twins are upset with me, but I’m not completely to blame. It’s Malice. As long as I’ve known about him, we’ve been on the same page. I never asked him how long he’s been here, but I remember he started chatting with me around the time Iwas almost 14. I don’t understand where the divide is coming from.

No matter how hard I try to talk to him, he consistently ignores me, withholding any information he comes across. He’s just gone silent, like he’s never existed. The part of me that has relied on him to be there when I need him feels abandoned, like I felt as a kid. My knuckles rub my chest where it aches from the memories it threatens to bring up. I want to demand answers. Why did he leave his phone out for me to find? I saw the cameras he placed in her room. That part I left out to the guys, in fear of them turning on me. They never have before. Maybe they would’ve understood.

Whenever I recall the intensity of Crew’s stare, my throat tightens. It hurts to think that even after all this time, he looks at me as if I’m someone new. As if he’s suddenly seeing me in a different light. He trusted me, and Malice broke that. All for what? My hands rip at my hair in desperation, hoping to pull out an answer. Just think. Think. I repeat to myself while smacking my hand against the top of my head.

Malice has never turned on me before. He’s a calculated, manipulative bastard. For some reason, Priya Carter holds his attention. Long enough that his impulsiveness hasn’t led to killing her or… hasn’t yet. It’s not her beauty, that would be too narrow minded for him, there’s always a bigger picture. On autopilot, my hands detach from my fisted hair and swiftly navigate towards the screens, where I effortlessly retrieve the camera feed he had cleverly installed in her room. There’s no code because, as he says, “I have nothing to hide.”

The cameras have a night vision feature that automatically activates at a specific time. Even at 04:00, her room is illuminated in a clear, grey and white hue. Angled perfectly at her bed. She doesn’t look too beat up as I thought she would from having Bennett strangle her on Wednesday night.River’s arms and legs are flung across Priya’s, like little animals snuggling together for warmth. It’s almost cute. Protective.

Time passes as I watch them sleep soundlessly without a care in the world. By studying her, I hope to decipher the hidden motives behind Malice’s actions. He’s only ever been obsessed with death, how to bring it, cause it, extend it. My lips pull back in a rarely seen sneer. And here he is, allowing her to breathe the same air as us, knowing what she did.

Maybe I’m totally misreading it. It could be that my father is alive, causing me to doubt everything I know. But that doesn’t explain how he would know she’s receiving letters from him before us. So many questions without answers. My phone vibrates with a notification, a group text for a meeting downstairs. The weight of anxiety settles in my chest as I make my way down the steps, my hands becoming clammy.

Are they going to push me out? Could Malice really ruin the bond between me and the twins?

The kitchen is quiet when I enter, my steps slow and cautious. No one lifts their head to acknowledge me, leaving me surrounded by an uncomfortable silence. Crew leans against the counter, purposefully creating a physical barrier between us, dressed and ready to go to classes. His arms remain tightly crossed over his chest with balled fists, the unmistakable “go fuck yourself” vibe emanating from him.

Clearing his throat, Bennett takes the lead, acutely aware of his brother’s simmering rage. His anger is a suffocating weight, longing to punish us for our deeds. The air is heavy with tension, so dense it could be severed with a blade.

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