Page 75 of Petrify

The crony looks ready to pounce. Our eyes meet.

“Make sure he gets to bed safe.” I turn to leave, unwilling to talk to Leo any longer. Every second I am here, my skin crawls. I have better things to do. “Wouldn’t want another strange disappearance to answer for.”

Chapter 38

The Pianist

There arewhisperings amongst the residents of the house, all day, as to where Reece could be. His absence is noticed, especially since it is the second time he left so abruptly. He disappeared around lunch, never showed for dinner, never went to bed.

Breakfast with the rest of the staff in the morning reveals that no one truly knows what happened, every theory more wild than the last. First, they wondered if he just got up and quit, but no, that’s not like him—he was too grateful for the family’s help. Maybe his injury is too bad to continue working and he’s been sent off to heal? Then they wonder if maybe he has been given an inheritance by a long lost, late uncle, and has no reason to stay in the manor. Then, Nathan suggests spontaneous combustion.

This last one earns a few laughs. And despite the strangeness of his disappearance, nobody truly suspects anything iswrong.

Not yet, anyway.

I don’t go to the practice room in the evening. I can’t bring myself to care for the waltz when this shadow is looming over me. I can’t bring myself to even look at theFor youwritten on the page.

Some poison has entered my bloodstream, and it’s slowly infecting my flesh. One mere drop and I’m tainted.

He’s going to rot me from the inside out.

It doesn’t take long for him to appear. “You’re not practicing.”

“I’m tired.”

“No, you’re not.” Then he’s silent, and I hear the whispering of his footsteps against the rug. His eyes bore a hole through me. I’m used to his silent perusal, the way he peels back each layer of my skin, the way he justknowsexactly what I’m thinking. “He meant nothing to you.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“You’re angry with me.” His voice is closer, curious.

My arms tighten around myself. Under the silver moonlight, the grounds glow a soft blue. This window overlooks the north lawns, behind the house. A path cuts through, winding across the ground in a thin white line, the same path Henri and I have taken multiple times. The path to the gardens. To the family cemetery. “He was harmless.”

“You know that isn’t true. I had to do it.”

I shake my head, refusing to look at him.

“He knew, Mallary. I waited until I was sure—foryou. The moment he said he knew, he was dead. And then I found him in your room?—”

My eyes squeeze shut.

“An amateur stalker, is what he was. But too stupid to keep it to himself.”

Still shaking my head, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of my arms, refusing to look at him—I don’t want to hear it.

I want to wake up from this. I want to open my eyes, and find myself in any other morning: breakfast, then my lesson with Henri, and nothing’s wrong, and no one’s noticing anything about me, I’m only the girl who’s good at piano. Because when people look too closely, bad things happen.

“Don’t you understand that he could have jeopardized everything? He could have ruined your life.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You can pout all you want. You can be mad at me. But know I did itfor you.”

“He wouldn’t have done anything,” I hear myself saying. “If he—if he was going to get me in trouble, he would’ve done it already.”

Baz is silent for a second. The ghost of a touch on my arm and I wrench myself away, running from him, crossing the room in a few seconds.

He’s just a ghost. He can’t hurt you.