I’m just so tired.
Before I can put the candle out, I look up—and in the mirror, past my shoulder, I see him.
Tyler.
The candle trembles in my grip. His stare pins me in place, and that's when I realize this game was never about summoning a ghost.
The monster was already here.
Chapter 18
Mary
BeforeIcanevenprocess what's going on, Tyler steps in front of me, and a syringe presses into the side of my neck. The cold metal bites through my skin, and the liquid slides in like a fire burning my veins. My body instantly goes heavy.
"You've really put on a good show the past six months, Mary. Listening perfectly to my father." Tyler steps back as my legs give out beneath me. My hand reaches for the counter, but I miss.
"Tyler—" I barely manage, but he shakes his head; the faint smirk is gone.
He crouches, gripping my jaw roughly, forcing me to face him. Hollow eyes. That same half-smile, masking something darker than I've ever seen.
"It's your fault, Mary," he hisses. "You're the reason he sent us away. Ruining everything." I try to speak, to tell him everythingI’velost, but my lips refuse.
"If you weren't here," he continues, his voice cold, "we could come back. Which is why I'm here, Mary."
My back presses into the cold porcelain of the sink. The candle flickers, casting dancing shadows across his face. Tyler swipes the hair out of my face, mockingly gentle.
“It's okay,Little Rebel,” he mocks. “Let’s have some fun. Whatcha say?”
Tyler walks back to the door, locks it with a click that echoes through the small bathroom, then turns back to me. Evil hangs in the curve of his mouth.
“My dad is keeping you quiet," he says, voice low, "but I need a more permanent solution. We're coming back, and for that, you need to disappear."
Everything in my body is tingly. I try to move my hands, but they’re too heavy.
Fuck.
This can’t be happening.
My heart pounds in my chest like a relentless drum, its beat resonating through every fiber of my being.
“I knew the truth was going to come out sooner or later," he says, kneeling beside me again, his finger touching my cheek. "And I won’t risk Anthony or my life for a useless bitch like you.” His hand brushes the tear trailing down my face. “Don’t cry, Mary. It’ll all be over soon.” He leans down, pressing a kiss on my dampened cheek.
“And nobody will suspect a thing. Poor little depressed Mary. Finally, she takes her own life because the big bad Sebastian Calyx doesn’t want her.” He lets out a deep chuckle.
The bathroom spins. Water drips from the faucet, each drop like a metronome counting down the seconds of my life.
“You ready, Princess?” Tyler lifts me like I weigh nothing, carrying me bridal-style to the tub. Something falls from my pocket as he lowers me into the half-full tub. I shiver as my bodyhits the cold water; my breath leaves me in a sharp whoosh. My muscles won't work with me, no matter how hard I try.
Anger, fear, and despair surge through me.
He grabs the photo that fell from my pocket—the one I took from Seb's room—and sets it on the counter.
"Cute," he says, eyes glinting with malice. "The perfect cherry on top."
I’m screaming on the inside for anyone to help. Anyone at all.
A razor appears in his hand, and my stomach twists. He kneels beside the tub, turning my wrist upward. "Let's paint a pretty picture for him."
