Page 30 of Twisted Gift

Whoa. I’ve never seen this before. I’ll bet my dad hasn’t either. Nan probably didn’t even know it was in one of these boxes. By the looks of them, they haven’t been opened in many years.

I run my finger across the crinkled paper, taking in all of the names and dates. Some names are familiar, while others are complete strangers to me. The last name on the page—the last relative added to the tree—is my great-great-grandfather.

Pulling my phone out of the back pocket of my jean shorts, I swipe open the camera and tap on the flash before taking a picture of the paper. I go into my gallery and select the photo to make sure it came out clear. I frown. Halfway up the page, there’s a spot of glare from the flash, drawing my eyes to a familiar name. Mine.

Of course, it’s notme, but my eyes widen. I didn’t know I was named after a distant relative. This Aurora wasn’t born a Marshall. My gaze slides over to her spouse—the Marshall of the pairing—and the air leaves my lungs in a painfulwhoosh.

“What the hell?” I breathe, blinking a few times. There must be dust in my eyes. I’m not seeing straight. This isn’t—thiscan’tbe real.

Across from my namesake is the face that still gives me nightmares.

Jules.

My body jumps into action, moving on autopilot down the ladder from the attic and into the bathroom. I slam the door shut and get the lid of the toilet seat up a second before I empty my stomach into the bowl.

My eyes burn as my vision blurs in and out. My ears ring so loudly, I almost don’t hear the sound of someone knocking on the door.

I flush the toilet and rinse my mouth out before taking a deep breath and opening it to find Nan and Mom standing there.

“Are you all right, honey?” Mom asks.

I swallow hard. “I just—”

“She probably found a dead animal up there,” Dad says, walking past the hallway. “That attic hasn’t been cleaned since the damn house was built.”

Nan frowns. “Was there a dead animal?”

You could say that.I get away with nodding, unable to vocalize the lie.

Instead of getting answers, I’m left with a million more questions, and I killed the only person I could ask.

“Okay, that’s enough for one day,” Mom announces.

“Are you sure?” I ask in a hoarse voice.

Nan nods, guiding me away from my mom. “You head home, honey. You’ve been a great help. Thank you, Aurora.”

I force a smile for her. “Of course,” I say. “Hey, Nan?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you know about what’s in the boxes in the attic?”

“I’m not sure. Is there something specific you’re talking about?”

I nod. “I found an old Marshall family tree. I think it was in a box of Granddad’s things. You and he aren’t on it, but I was wondering if you’d seen it?”

Her face crinkles as she thinks about it. “I can’t say that I have. I’m an old girl, but I’ve still got a good memory, and I don’t remember any family trees.”

I offer her a smile even though I feel as if I’m going to cry. “Do you mind if I take it?”

She laughs. “Oh please, dear, take whatever you like. Everything is either going to end up at a thrift store or in the trash.”

“Thanks, Nan.”

She reaches for my hand and kisses it. “You’re very welcome.”

Nan goes back into the living room, and I force my legs to climb back into the attic where I stand, staring at that piece of paper—that one name—until my head is spinning.

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