Page 29 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
I shouldn’t, though. It’s only going to end up hurting me. And her.
I stroke her warm cheek—a barely-there grazing of my fingers over her skin—then hold Ivy’s hand. I can’t remember the last time someone offered me quiet comfort the way she did…held me like I deserved unconditional acceptance.
Does Ivy know I resent her from time to time? How can I not, when she has Mother’s love and I don’t? Would she still have comforted me if she knew?
The innocent sweetness in her eyes tells me she would have. She would have considered it a simple human gesture. And as much as I feel humbled and touched by that, a small part of me is alarmed.
Ivy deserves Mother’s love. She’s obviously been filling the gaping hole in Mother’s heart that I created. I can never forget the devastation on her face when she realized what I’d done.
There was so much warm, sticky blood all over my hands and clothes. It was so hot, spilling out of Katherine’s little body.
I pressed my hands over the wound as hard as I could, praying that if I did a good job, maybe she wouldn’t lose so much blood and die. But I wasn’t good enough. Katherine panted softly, each breath laced with the chocolate-minty smell of the sweets she loved. The blood poured through my fingers. I started to feel sick, the sound of my heart like thunder in my ears.
Katherine, no! Don’t die! Please don’t die!
I felt dizzy from shaking my head so hard. My chest was so tight, I couldn’t breathe. The hair on my neck bristled, making the area prickly and cold. It felt like a gentle farewell touch from Katherine’s spirit as she was leaving…forever.
Jonas had to pull me away from Mother as she fainted, so I didn’t taint her with the blood on my hands.
Now, sitting on the edge of Ivy’s bed, I look down upon her sleeping face. I don’t know what Mother will do if I taint her with my presence.
“Don’t waste yourself on someone like me,” I whisper, an ache forming in my chest. “I’ll only bring you down.”
It’s very possible that Mother might end up hating Ivy for being nice to me, just like she instantly reviled Bolt and the poor assistant…and like she slapped Edgar for daring to speak up on my behalf. I wouldn’t want that for Ivy, who doesn’t have parents to turn to. Father would never side with her, not if it meant upsetting Mother.
Slowly, gently, I disengage my hand from Ivy’s. Once our fingers no longer touch, cold rushes through me until I’m shivering, bereft and alone.
