Katie
She. Is. The. Devil.
Tears slip down my face as my new reality sinks in. It’s all gone. Every last hope and dream. Nothing remains of my shattered life.
My phone rings, the sound yanking me from my heartache.
Arabella Hartwell’s name flashes on the screen like a warning light, a sign that disaster is imminent. But I feel like it already came.
Chapter 3
Soren
“Thetrashchute?”Isnarl into my phone, all anger directed at my dear sister. “I thought I was going in through the service entrance.” Thatwasthe plan. I’d seen it with my own two eyes. I never would have agreed to this.
Rosie’s cackle pierces my eardrum. “Change of plans. Merry Christmas, brother.”
“Rosie, this isn’t funny.”
“Relax. You’re just using it until you can get to the service elevator.” The sound of her slurping her soda is extremely off-putting. So is the smell coming from the dumpster.
“Rosie,” I growl, but she only laughs again.
“You need to learn to go with the flow,” she says with barely concealed glee.
“This is absolutely the last scenario where going with the flow is beneficial.” I have to climb throughgarbage.
“I made sure they don’t have an incinerator.”
I blink at the mangy orange cat who just climbed out from under the dumpster. “Yes. Thank you for ensuring that.”
But despite my protests, I see the problem with the service garage. In the twenty minutes I’ve been sitting here, it hasn’t opened to receive a delivery once. It must be broken. I’m not getting in that way. But surely there was a superior option to this.
I tread slowly to the overflowing dumpster. The sun has gone down, but it’s not fully dark yet. I have only a few minutes to get inside and get changed before shift change.
“You’ve done it before,” she says.
“And you used to play with worms, yet you don’t see me forcing one into your possession.”
“Someone’s testy today. All right, I’ve got to get on the road. It’s four hours to Rome, but I’ll be stuck in holiday traffic and bad weather.” She curses. “I should have driven with Hayden. You sure you won’t need anything?”
I eye the unflattering entry, feeling less sure by the second. But she’s earned this much-needed Christmas break, and I’ll worry about her safety if she delays any longer. “Positive.”
Rosie ends the call, and I sigh, looking both ways before climbing up the side of the dumpster. I have to be quick. I grab hold of the bars, pulling myself into the chute. My arm brushes a slimy substance, but I don’t pause to investigate; the sooner I’m out of here, the better. Using my hands and feet against opposite sidewalls, I hoist myself up the stainless steel ductwork.
A piece of soggy lettuce—I hope—gets stuck to my hand, and I try not to gag. A little farther…
I hit the first opening and breathe a sigh of relief, then immediately regret it as my stomach rolls. It’s so rancid here I can taste it.
I press the rubber flap away from the opening, peeking into the maintenance room.
A woman with a clipboard passes, and I hold my breath, my muscles shaking with the static hold. She pauses three steps away, writing on her paper without a care in the world while I struggle.
My leg is stuck at an awkward angle, and a charley horse threatens.No.
I take slow, deep breaths, and finally,finally, the woman clicks her pen and continues on.
It’s now or never. I kick against the far wall, pulling my body through the window and toppling out of the trash chute, smacking my head on the way down.
