Page 82 of The Reaper's Vice

I straighten, unable to look at Maggie as I turn and head into the small outhouse attached at the back of the cabin. I pull the door closed, locking it tight before I turn to the mirror. Reaching a finger up, I track the gruesome scar carved into my face, wondering if I’ll be able to go through with it. Maggie’s smiling face swarms my mind, and I know no matter what I feel, that I have to do this. Imust.

This ismydesign.

I open the medicine cabinet, pinching the razor between my fingertips. My hand shakes as I gaze down at the gleaming, angry metal, and I worry for one terrible minute that I’ll lose my nerve.

Sighing, I place the razor onto the sink counter, bracing myself against the porcelain as I stare deep into my own eyes.

“You can do this. For Maggie, you can do this.”

Yet no matter how many times I say it, I’m still afraid. Afraid of slipping into the dark, of never being able to get out. Sighing, I turn from the bathroom, deciding a cold drink of water will help to calm my nerves.

“Where are you going?” Maggie’s voice is so, so small in the darkness. I freeze with my hand on the exit, turning my head to meet her inquisitive gaze.

“I’m just going to get a drink of water. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nods, and I slip from the room without another word. I shuffle to the well on the opposite side of the clearing, numb to the sticks and stones puncturing my bare feet. All I feel is terror—one like I’ve never known before.

But I have to do it. I have to, or Maggie will die.

My hand shakes as I bring the wooden bucket to my lips, taking down heaving gulps of fresh water. When my belly is about to burst, I set the bucket down and start walking back to the cabin, my steps far slower than they were on the way to the well.

If I knew what was waiting for me, I might have walked a little faster.

I push open the cabin door, surprised to find Maggie missing from her bed. A frown pinching my brow, I rush to the bathroom at the back, my heart hammering when I notice the light peeking from under the door.

I don’t know what I expect to find when I throw the door open, but whatever it was, the reality is a million times worse. Maggie lies on the ground, her skin pale and lifeless as a pool of blood halos around her, spreading from the deep gashes on her little wrists.

“I found a way out.” A small smile tips her lips as she holds up the razor blade I was going to use. “Now you won’t have to… won’t have to kill yourself for someone as worthless as me.”

“Magoo…”

I wrap my palms around her wrists, desperate to stop the flow of life. I search her gaze, unable to believe she would do something like this—even as more and more blood coats my hands. My chest cracks wide open as I watch all the life, the joy, drain from her veins. “Why would you do this?” My body shudders, and I hang my head, my vision fracturing along with my mind. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

“I know,” she whispers. “You’ve always been too stubborn for your own good. Couldn’t just let me die when it was my time.” She chuckles weakly, her seafoam eyes fixing on a spot just over my shoulder. “I don’t… I don’t know if I ever thanked you for that.”

“You didn’t have to. You never have to.”

Maggie shakes her head, her eyes closing softly. For a moment, I’m scared she’s gone. But then she speaks, her voice a weathered rasp. “N-Nina?”

“Yes?” My palm trails lightly across her freckled cheek. “What is it?”

“Will—will you do me a favor?”

Her cobalt eyes are glassy, and I can do nothing but clutch her to my chest, nodding violently as the warmth of her life seeps into my shirt.

“Anything.” I brush an unruly red curl from her cheek. “Anything.”

She heaves a sigh, a great whoosh of air filled with relief. Relief and sadness. “Will you… will you go see the sunrise over Mount Kilimanjaro?” Maggie smiles up at the ceiling like she imagines herself perched on those snow-capped peaks. And it’s a good smile. A pure smile. A smile absent of fear. Of hatred. Of pain.

She jerks her gaze to mine, and there’s so much love held in her tiny pale face that I’m worried my heart will fall right out of my chest. “I can’t… I don’t think I’m going to get the chance now, and?—”

“Don’t say that!” My voice breaks along with my heart. “We’ll get you to the top of that mountain, Magoo.I’mgoing to get you there.”

Maggie’s smile turns sad, and she lets her head drop back into the crook of my arm, her eyelids drooping slowly. “That’s a wonderful thought, Nina.” She reaches up, holding her hand over my heart, her pupils narrowing to pinpoints. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I clutch her painfully close. “I don’t hear anything.”

“The bells…” Her eyes glaze over as she seizes lightly. “Ding… dong… ding… dong…What do you think it means?”

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