Page 136 of Unholy Masks

“I hope so.”

It’s NOT going to be great, at least, not for her.

I went with Irene. I didn’t go back with Irene. Kurt knew exactly what to do with the van he used for his gardening needs at the orphanage. I had taught him how to be careful, how to miss the lights.

It was easy. Very easy. Like taking a candy from a toddler’s little hand.

By the time I returned, I had already rehearsed every breath, every tremble, every crack in my voice.

I knew exactly where to place my hands, how hard to breathe, when to let my voice break.

By the time I stumbled through the door, I was drenched in sweat. Dirt streaked my clothes. My tears came easily enough that even I almost believed them.

“Trish?”

“What happened?”

“I...” My words broke as she caught my shoulders.

Enzo stood at the side, helpless worry writ all over his face.

“Where is Irene?” Her nails dug into my flesh. “Where the fuck is—” Yara growled. She wanted to slap me, strangle me.

Her anger was a scream against my skin. I loved it. I loved the taste of it. I loved the smell of it. Her.

Her breathing became shallow, frantic. She shook me as though answers could be forced out of my bones if she held on tightly enough.

“Talk to me!” she shouted.

Every second without an answer was its own kind of torture. Her mind was already filling the blanks with worse possibilities.

I stared past her shoulder, my lips trembling, my mouth opening and closing, at Enzo. He looked pale. He looked like he had lost the ability to breathe, to… talk.

“Trish!” Yara’s voice cracked.

“Red, let’s give her a moment.”

Yara gritted her teeth when Ryden placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Fuck!” Her voice cracked. “Don't just stand there like a fucking—” She stopped herself, clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“Just tell me,” she muttered, though I wasn't sure whether she was talking to herself or me. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Or I will bury you. She didn’t exactly say that, oh, but how loud it was.

“We went to the bookstore. She wanted to-to get you something.”

Her eyes kept darting to the door, to the windows—as if she expected Irene to walk in at any second now.

“I...” I swallowed hard. “I got a call. Someone saw my art at the gallery and wanted to buy it.” I wiped at my face with trembling fingers. “I stepped outside for a while. She was right there. There!” My breathing hitched. “When I... when I went back inside...”

A pause. Just enough to watch panic bloom across Yara’s face like a poisonous flower.

My lips quivered. “She was gone.”

“Gone? How could she be gone?”

“I checked everywhere.” My voice broke into a sob. “The whole shop. Every room. I called her name over and over, and she wasn't...”