Page 39 of Silent Desires

Max:You calling me handsome :)

Jasper:She did? We’re identical twins, so that means you think I’m handsome too, Mina? Now this is my happiest memory ;)

Me:You guys are so cheesy ;p

Jasper:You love it!

Jasper:Sorry, we gotta go do some stuff.We’ll ttyl

Max:Take care and msg if you need anything or decide you can come out to play!

Me:Bye.

Voices upstairs bring me back to the present, so I stop re-reading the conversation and switch off my phone, hiding it under my mattress. I don’t want to risk getting caught. I use the bucket in the corner to relieve myself. That’s probably the worst part of being locked down here—no bathroom. It’s disgusting, and there’s no way to clean myself. I don’t dare unwrap my wounds until I’m in the bathroom upstairs where I can clean them, who knows what sort of germs are down here?

I clutch Jasper’s hoodie to my chest and take another sniff, his masculine scent calming my nerves instantly. I’m afraid to sleep with it on, worried my mother might come down while I’m asleep and see it. She seemed to have forgotten about it yesterday, more concerned with the punishment than the reason for it. So I slept curled around it in a little ball, my nose pressed to the material. I can’t describe the scent, but it smells like Jasper and is comforting. I slide it under the mattress with my phone in the pocket. I’ll bring the hoodie back to school on Monday to return it to Jasper.

I lay on my back and stare at the ceiling, trying to make out the voices above, but it’s all muffled. I think I hear footsteps right before the basement door bangs open, startling me as I jump up in surprise. I grab my own threadbare sweater and put it on for extra protection from my mother.

But I quickly realize it’s not a woman’s legs descending the stairs, it’s a man’s. Why would Jeff come down here? Worry floods my body, he’s never been down here before and I can only think of a couple reasons why he would visit me here. But when his face comes into view, trueterror grips me as I stumble backwards. It isn’t Jeff. It’s someone much, much worse.Simon.

Chapter twenty-seven

Ispin my pocketknife in my hand as I stare at the wall. On it is a large map covered in pins of the locations of every murder we think is connected to this case. On the left is a timeline with pictures and details of the victims pinned to it. We’ve also marked out Helen’s identities. Ben was only able to track her identity back to three personas, but it’s enough to know she is definitely hiding something or running from something, and they, sort of, match up with the murders. The dates and towns aren’t all exact, but they are close enough to be more than a coincidence.

But as I stand there staring at it, my mind drifts to the text conversation I had earlier today with the girl I can’t get out of my head.

Malishka:Good morning Atlas. Sorry I didn’t text when I got home. Are you mad?

Me:Never.

Malishka:Are you sure?

Me:I could never be mad at you. I just worry.

Malishka:Why?

Me:Because I care, Malishka.

Malishka:What does Malishka mean?

Me:It’s a russian term, it means baby girl.

Malishka:Oh.

Me:Do you mind me calling you that?

Malishka:Is it something you call all girls?

Me:Just you.

Malishka:Then I like it :)

Me:Yeah?

Malishka:Yeah. But are you ok, Atlas?

Me:Me? I’m fine.

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