Page 49 of She Haunts Me Still

“Hold on.” Mallory shakes her head. “Before we start climbing up my family tree. Lily’s visitedyou,too.” Her gaze flutters over Saskia’s willowy frame, her amber eyes, thefreckles dotting her slightly crooked nose. A stark difference from Mallory’s deep brown hair and rounder, softer features. “We look nothing alike. There’s no way we’re related.”

Saskia releases a soft laugh. “Well, thank goodness for that.”

Mallory frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I just—” Saskia’s eyes flutter skyward like she’s said something she didn’t mean to. “It would be kind of awkward to learn the pretty girl you just met is actually your cousin.”

“Why would that be awk—” Mallory falls quiet, cheeks warming. “Oh.Oh.”

“Never mind.” Saskia waves her hand quickly. “I get it. You’re straight! Forget I said anyth—”

“I’m not.”

Mallory doesn’t mean to blurt it out. It’s like her voice has taken on a life of its own, giving first breaths to something she’s always struggled to name. Her cheeks burn hotter, and she stitches together another new string of words. “I’m not straight.”

Saskia stares at her, the tiniest of smiles twitching on her mouth. “Okay. Good to know.”

For a second, Mallory swears her own body feels different. Like she fits inside it better, from simply saying it out loud for the first time.

“Alright, I guess it’s my turn to share,” Saskia says, drawing her Converse sneakers onto the chair and hugging her knees. “You know how most people can trace their first memories back to preschool? I don’t remember that time at all. I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of leukemia when I was a toddler. The doctors didn’t think I would livepast five. But my mom got me into an experimental clinical trial. It worked.” She tugs on her white, choppy waves. “It also fucked up my hair. It used to be blonde.”

Mallory studies her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just hair.” Saskia shrugs. “My point is that for most people, the story of their lives starts when they’re a child. But mine didn’t start until the cancer went away.” She glances out the window. “I don’t remember anything that came before.”

Mallory goes quiet again. For as much as she’s tried to forget her past, Saskia has nothingtoforget. She’s not sure which would hurt more.

“I got better, but everything else got worse,” Saskia continues. “My mom died when I was fourteen. I had to move to my dad’s apartment in Boston. They divorced when I was a baby, so he was basically a stranger. I’m pretty sure he resented me disrupting his life. And then I had to start a new school, which was a real treat as a lesbian teenager with white hair and no friends.”

“Wait,” Mallory says, “your mom passed away, too?”

“Car accident,” Saskia mutters. “It sucks, losing a mom. No one ever says that. Everyone’s always like, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, she’s gone to a better place.’ Screw that. I had a mom, and then I didn’t. For once, I just want someone to acknowledge how much it fucking sucks. You know?”

A realization hits Mallory: She’s never heard anyone say that, either. Most people just cluck with pity when they find out.Poor thing,their expressions always say. It’s never what she needs to hear.

“It does,” Mallory agrees. “It fuckingsucks.”

Saskia offers a wry smile. “Amen to that.”

Mallory holds her gaze, considering. Yesterday, Saskiacouldn’t get away from her fast enough. And now, there’s a thread. Something that links them in ways no one else could attempt to understand. The awareness puts a soft blush in Mallory’s cheeks, her skin warming in the bronze library light.

“So,” Saskia says, clearing her throat. “Lily.”

Mallory shifts in her chair. “Lily.”

“I first saw her when I went into remission,” Saskia says. “Mostly, she’s showed up in my dreams. But I’ve seen her sometimes in mirrors or windows. She’s only spoken to me twice. Once, to tell me her name.” She pauses. “And again to say, ‘It’s not meant for you.’ ”

Mallory’s face twists in confusion. “What’s not meant for you?”

“I have no idea,” Saskia admits. “But it happened the day I arrived here. You were right to say I’ve been on campus since the read-through. I just wasn’t going to classes. I kept seeing you everywhere and thought you wereher. You realize you look just like her, right? Without all the…decay?” She shivers. “It was easier to avoid you. Doctors’ notes are simple to forge.”

Mallory falls quiet, thinking of her nightmarish reflection in the costume dungeon, the way she and Lily blended until she couldn’t tell them apart. Same dark hair. Same distant stare. How Lily’s bloodied chest had fit perfectly over her own. She curls her fingers inward.

In every fairy tale her mother told her, curses were always broken. Maybe hers can be, too.

“I think,” Mallory says softly, “it’s time to stop being so scared. We need to figure out why we can see Lily when no one else can and what the hell she’s trying to tell us.”

For a moment, Saskia looks surprised at Mallory’s confident tone but then nods in agreement, leaning back with a small smile.