Page 128 of Pretty Little Threats

A wall slams into place. It’s fragile but sturdy enough to get me through the next few minutes.

“I’m so?—”

“Is there anything else?” I cut him off, glancing at Orion and biting my cheek until I draw blood, focusing on that pain instead of the grief. My jaw clenches.

Orion pauses. “Are you okay?”

Will I be okay? No. Probably not, but I need him to leave, because I can’t break down in front of him. I pay for his services, and he’s not my friend. It’s not his job to console me. “Just another day in the life of the rich and famous,” I say with a shrug. The emotions I tried to lock away are battering against the flimsy wall I’ve built. I stand and carry my mug to the sink. “Thanks for looking into it. I’ll walk you out.”

Orion frowns but gathers his things. I escort him to the door, focusing on the shuffling of his feet behind me to keep from falling apart. With as much strength as I can muster, I open the door and give him one of my plastic smiles.

Orion’s features soften, despite the rush of frigidDecember air. The shock of cold helps keep my emotions at bay a little longer. “I really am sorry, Rose. I wish I had found something different.”

Lock it away. Don’t let your feelings get the better of you.

“I’ll be okay,” I lie.

He nods and glances out at the pure white sky that promises snow. “There’s always sunshine after the storm.” And with that piece of wisdom, Orion heads down my steps.

The farther he gets, the harder my lip trembles.

The yawning void of loneliness I felt before is now a never-ending gorge. I’ve lost Mom, the man I thought was my family, Dare, and maybe even Cassia. I don’t have anyone to talk to. I’m all alone. Every muscle is leaden, threatening to pull me down to the floor, and my knees almost buckle when the door snicks shut.

The room spins, and I pinch my eyes shut to keep the dizziness at bay as reality sinks in.

Dad murdered Mom.

thirty-eight

ROSE

I’m alone.

Really alone.

Regret is a ruthless tide, and I can’t help feeling like my body is hollow inside.

A mere shell of a being clutched in sorrow’s grip, and remorse is a simple cruel kiss on my lips.

thirty-nine

Dare never lied.

forty

He never cheated.

forty-one

Dad killed Mom.

forty-two

What have I done?

forty-three

DARE

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