Page 71 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

I sneer at him. “You’re disgusting.”

He steps toward me, invading my space once again with my bright red handprint glowing on his cheek. “I have to know though,” he says, pushing the hair back over my shoulder. My muscles tense but I can’t bring myself to move. “Are you fucking the whole band or just the drummer?”

I suck in a breath and raise my hand to slap him again, but he grabs my wrist.

“Uh uh. You don’t want me to change my mind about sharing this, do you?”

My feet unstick from the floor and I run from the darkroom. Again, I’m running. I don’t know anything else. The cold night air burns in my lungs until I collapse on a bench by the buses.

I’m so stupid. How could I have been so careless? I took that picture so recklessly, then like an idiot left the film in the enlarger? Of course, out of everyone, Simon was the one who found it. Of course he was. When he stole my work, it was a simple he said/she said situation, and he’s right. Other than Randall, I could likely never convince the others it was really mine and not his work all along. But now? He finally has the ammunition to pull the trigger.

To silence me for good.

CHAPTER 21

Don’t Stop Me Now

ISABELLA

Knock, knock, knock.

I look over at my door, my heavy eyes narrowed as I wonder who on earth it could possibly be. With my luck, it’ll be Simon somehow, coming to make me feel even worse than I already do. Setting down my tub of cookie dough ice cream, I peel myself off my couch and pull my robe on over my pajamas that I’ve spent the last several days wallowing in.

Knock, knock, knock.

“I’m coming,” I call out, my voice hoarse after not speaking to anyone for so long and eating nothing but ice cream and taquitos for three days. Unlocking the door, I pull it open to find Becks standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen as they focus on me, and I’m sure she’s wondering where her friend went only to be replaced by this troll.

“Hey . . . ?” She says it like she’s unsure.

“Hi,” I reply, my head resting on the edge of the door.

For a moment we stare at each other until Becks smiles and asks, “Can I come in?”

I nod and step back for her. If I had the energy to care, I’d be embarrassed about the state of my room. How the dishes haven’tbeen done in a week, how it probably smells like sweat in here . . . The size of my massive pile of laundry. Instead I go back and sit back down on my couch to continue watchingThe Golden Girls.

Watching Becks out of the corner of my eye, I see her take in her surroundings, then she sits down beside me, moving a dirty plate out of her way onto the coffee table.

“Isabella,” she says. “Are you okay?”

I laugh abruptly. “Me? Of course I’m okay. Just peachy.”

“I—”

“Why are you here?” I ask.

She tilts her head and reaches for my hand. “I came by to invite you over for Christmas dinner. But . . . I wish I’d come sooner.”

“How did you even find out where I live?”

“I stopped by the newspaper office a few times hoping I’d run into you. But after not seeing you for a few days, I thought it was strange since you’re always there. So I asked someone if they knew where you might be and they said you’d quit.”

I sigh.

“Is that true? You quit the paper?”

“Becks,” I say, pulling my legs underneath me. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Well . . . we are,” she says, taking on a tone of stubbornness, albeit a weak one. “What is going on with you? You love the paper and you quit? Weeks ago, without telling anyone? I thought we were friends. Then I find you like this with . . . Is that nacho cheese in your hair?”

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