Page 76 of The Hunted

“You promise you’ll come get me if there’s any change?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Lazz gives me a small, crooked smile.

It doesn’t resolve my distress at leaving Knox, but it’s something.

I return his smile with a sad one of my own and head swiftly toward the bathroom. The lights come on when I enter, and I walk toward the sink, my eyes lowered toward the floor. I watch my dirty, blood-covered feet shift underneath the bottom of the tattered remains of the once pristine white dress—now covered in dirt, blood, and pond scum. I take a deep breath, bracing my hands on the sink before looking up into the mirror. My eyes rake over my reflection. My tangled hair, my blood covered face and dress. The pale color of my skin stands in stark contrast to the gore I’m covered in.

I died today.

I took a life.

I’m a survivor.

I’m a murderer.

I turn the water on and wash my hands, then my face. I can’t get this damn dress off fast enough. I tear at the zipper and shove the dress from my body. Wadding it into a ball, I throw it into the trash bin before I move to the shower. I turn the knob and set the water as hot as I can stand it.

The scalding water beats down on me, enveloping me in its warmth. I take a moment to compose myself before I begin to scrub my skin brutally as I cry.

---