Page 62 of A Curse On Black Lake
Nine months later she bore a son, Jasper Radcliffe, his father’s namesake. Cassandra was disinherited by her family. She took on the name Radcliffe as she would have, had he been alive. Jasper’s family name will carry on, and I know that he would be proud of her.
She left not a month after giving birth to the babe. Even after she left, strange things began to occur. Famine, more unexplained death, children unable to make into this world, flooding that destroyed crops, the lake turned black as night, strange that the town is named after a man Thomas Black, and then it turned that color. People have been bitten by snakes full of venom, and few survived. Ghosts and spirits seen in the dead of night. We are told not to interact with them, but I see them, and I know I’m not the only one.
I do not know that there is an end in sight for all of this death. And if anyone reads this long after I’m gone. It’s likely because the curse still holds to this land.
There may be no lifting the curse for the people of Black Lake to flourish. But I have to believe that love, the thing that started all of this, is what will end it. I have no proof, but I believe itwill have to be from the blood of a Radcliffe. As the Radcliffe line has left this place, I fear this story will become an old one in Black Lake, and death in this most unnatural of ways, the most unexplainable of reasons, will never unclench its terrible claws here.
Killian is silent next to me as he reads along with me.
When I finish the last line, I look up at him, and his jaw ticks.
“If this curse thing is true, then it would explain a lot. But I don’t know how it connects to the woman I found on my land,” he says. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair again. “I guess it explains the curse the Spirits mentioned.” He pauses, and I can see the gears turning in his head. “Is it possible the perp would know this information?”
“I don’t know how he would. The only way I think that’s plausible is if he read the story of what happened somewhere else. Maybe someone else recorded it. Only Grams and I were in this room, ever.”
“Are the Spirits telling you anything?” he asks.
The tension bleeds from my shoulders, and I shake my head. I know I’m not telling him everything, but something tells me not to mention his father.
But the fact he considered me, and the Spirits I have no choice in carrying around with me, does something to my insides. And I have to ignore the fierce need to jump into his arms again. It feels like I’m meant to be there.
“I guess it’s good to know this information and the weird connection to the weed, but it seems most likely that it’s a coincidence. It’s not like we all haven’t seen them.”
“If anything, it tells you that whoever is killing these women recognizes that the flower has a short life and went to the trouble of collecting and drying it. Anyone else who isn’t from here probably wouldn’t do that.”
“How do you know if they only grow in Black Lake?” Killian asks.
“A feeling?” I offer.
He chuckles. “Though I would take that as an answer, little witch, that won’t hold up in a court of law.”
My jaw drops, and his eyes widen.
“Sorry, I—”
A burst of laughter whips out of my mouth, interrupting him, and I can’t stop. My hands grip my stomach, and I brush a tear away.
“I can’t believe you called me little witch,” I say, trying to catch my breath, and ignoring the little tickle in the back of my mind. He called me this in a dream.
“It just came out,” he grumbles.
I smile widely. “If it were anyone else, I probably would have hissed or maybe punched them in the face, but I think I like it.”
He grins and looks away. His cheeks turn a little red, and it makes the heat in my belly bloom.
“It was a joke,” he says.
“A funny one at that,” I say and throw him a wink.I have never winked a day in my life.
He chuckles, and his smile brightens the entire room. It fills every corner, cleansing it. “I know this was hard to do. But thank you for helping me,” he says.
I stand from my chair. “I’m glad I could.”
“Do you…” he trails off. His expression has sobered as if he can’t reconcile what we found with the current circumstances. “Do you think if the killer knows this information then he’s using it as justification?”
My heart pangs at the thought. So many women have died at this psycho’s hand.
“Humans have an uncanny ability to justify anything, Killian. So, no I don’t think it’s too far-fetched. But it still brings us backto the same question. How would he know this part of Black Lake history?”
