Page 43 of Petrify

This is how it goes: they get too close and realize it was a mistake.

“Mallary.”

Julia’s brow is arched, her fork stalling in the air. “Where have you gone off to?”

One of the cooks made a breakfast of pancakes and sausage, and though it’s a few hours later than we typically eat, there’s still enough for the two of us.

My appetite is long gone. “Sorry.” I straighten the utensils next to my plate. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Here.” She stands, and in a moment, she’s poured me a cup of coffee and sets it down in front of me. “Cream? Sugar?”

“No.” I watch the liquid ripple. “Thank you.”

When I don’t drink the coffee and a few more seconds pass, she reaches for me, her touch gentle on the back of my hand. I don’t flinch. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seem particularly distracted. You’re quiet.”

“I’m not distracted,” I say, but I can feel heat rising to my cheeks, worried that she’ll be able to read the truth written out on my face. “Just—tired.”

Nodding as though she understands, she pushes food around on her plate. “These kinds of weekends are always weird,” she says, going on like usual. “I feel like I’m supposed to be doing something. Like I’m behind. But there’s nothingtodo.”

“Ms. Byrne hasn’t found a locked up room you could dust?”

“No. If a room is locked, we don’t touch it. Not without the Beauchenes telling us.”

“What, did someone see something they weren’t supposed to?”

“Something like that.” She shakes her head. “Not me, but one of the old maintenance workers. A few years ago. He was servicing the radiators before winter in each room, and…”

She hesitates, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know, it’s sort of dark.”

“You can tell me,” I say.

“You’re going to think there’s a murderer loose in the house.”

My stomach drops.

“He was servicing the radiators, and at some point, he… He was found dead. Burned by the radiator. His face…”

We both cringe.

“Washe murdered?”

“We don’t know but… it’s not the kind of injury that’s easy to explain away as an accident.”

She keeps talking, but all I can think about is Reece, andhisaccident, and how that didn’t make much sense, either.

“Which room?”

“Oh, not the one you’re in, that’s—” She catches herself. She knows.

Theyallknow whose room I’ve been given. Of course they know.Iam the outsider here.

“What’d he do?”

“What did hedo? What do you mean?”