Page 84 of When Bones Whisper
Your Monster.
Charlotte opened the lid of the chest, her eyes widening when she saw the severed head of Charles Eringhorn. With a loud scream, she dropped the chest, watching as his decapitated head bounced onto the carpet, his bloodshot eyes still mirroring the terror of his final breath.
Chapter Twenty-Three
On the edge of the rain-soaked rooftop, Charlotte gasped, steadying herself against the howling wind, bringing her closer to the precarious end of the parapet.
“What the—”
How did she get up there? She had no memory of climbing onto the roof.
Peering into the darkness, amidst the fog stretching out over manicured lawns and blooming roses gardens, she saw the swaying translucent figures of her family. For a moment, she wondered if she was dreaming, but when she pinched her hand, nothing happened.
Theywere really there.
Her eyes brimmed with tears, rain soaking her hair as she looked at them, her stomach hollowing.
Alice wore the purple gown she’d been buried in, her soft, blonde waves tied back. Her mother’s smile softened, her father’s arm wrapping around the two of them with a gentle squeeze. They were together again, and all the anger that had consumed her father before the massacre was gone.
His familiar, deep voice sounded in her mind, cracking an ache in her expanding chest.
Come home with us, darling. We’re waiting for you.
Tears flooded her eyes, falling thick and fast down her cheeks, mixing with the icy raindrops pattering over her and saturating her nightdress. She didn’t think she would ever hear his voice again. For months, she’d spent every day recalling the intone to their words, replaying every conversation she could think of so she would never forget how they sounded.
Alice’s soft plea tinkered into her head next, the sound wrapping around her like a warm blanket.
I miss you. Come home, Lottie.
Her stomach knotted at the name only her sister called her.
Slowly, her mother extended her hand, giving her a long, reassuring nod.
With trembling lips, Charlotte glanced down at the gardens below, captured by a sudden urge to jump.
Everything looked tiny from up there—the fountain, the statues, and beautiful flowerbeds. She hadn’t even got to explorethe grounds of Sallow Manor yet, but she could think of no more beautiful place to die.
The roses below were a bright crimson, encased in well-tended rock beds. Sprawling ivy covered the low, gray-bricked walls and in the distance, rain splashed against the dark surface of a pond surrounded by tall grass and a bench.
Death hounds, whose shadows moved against the sea of oak trees surrounding the property, growled when they noticed her silhouette poised against the dusky, indigo sky. Obsidian fur covered their large, muscular bodies. Their sharp claws carved into the wet earth as they readied themselves to run, saliva dripping from their canines.
Swallowing thickly, she looked down again, her head spinning.
Her mother’s honeyed tone swept into her mind like a summer breeze.
It will only hurt for a moment. Then you will be home with us.
Her father’s voice filtered in after.
You always were the one who held us all together. We can’t be a family without you.
Her bare toes curled over the edge, lips shivering under the icy drops sliding down her face.
“I’ve missed you,” Charlotte cried, a sob wrenching her chest.
As she moved one foot out, balancing herself hundreds of feet from the ground, Duke’s yowl echoed through the rooftop, causing her to topple slightly. Arms outstretched, she balanced herself, her breath catching in her throat.
What was she thinking?
