I finished searching through the length of closets, patting down pockets and peering under feet, looking for anything I could use.
But I found absolutely nothing.
After rechecking that all the bodies were hung exactly as they had been, I pressed the button and closed the doors. I sat down in G.R.’s leather desk chair and let out a sigh.
“There’s nothing here. Let’s go to his room.”
“You’re crazy.”
I wasn’t crazy, but I was starting to feel a little desperate. Both my hands gripped the seat of the chair, my fingers curling underneath it and squeezing the leather. I was so sure that I would find something. So sure he would be hiding some sort of secret.
I went to push myself up, but when I dragged my hand along the bottom of the chair, I felt something. Some sort of small round knob on the bottom of the seat. I ran my finger over it several times. It felt like a button. I pressed it.
There was a soft sound across the room. Both Storm and I whipped around, thinking we were somehow caught. But we weren’t. The sound came from a secret door. A secret sliding door in the bookcase. It opened, the doorway wide enough for a man to fit through.
Excitement pounded through me.Got you,I thought.
I glanced at Storm. “I thought you searched over there.”
“Shit, you expected me to find some kind of secret door? It’s probably a booby trap that’s going to suck us into the depths of hell.”
“I’ll say hello to the devil for you,” I said, returning G.R’s chair to the exact place it had been in and going over to the entrance and peering inside.
“Well?” Storm asked from close behind.
“No trips to hell today. It’s just more closets.” Three doors all in a row.
“What could he possibly keep in there?”
I wasn’t about to wait to find out. When I stepped into the narrow hallway, I half expected an alarm to go off, but nothing happened so I took another small step and then another.
My heart was pounding in my ears, drowning out the quiet and making me more nervous. I told myself to calm down, that it was stupid to get this nervous. I mean, I didn’t even act like this when I killed people. Guess my body was more afraid of the Reaper than my brain realized.
But fear of the Reaper was why I had to keep going. Being scared of him was unacceptable. I stopped in front of the first door I came to, staring at its cherry finish.
I was surprised when I opened the door.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Something sinister and twisted.
I was a little let down when all I saw was more bodies. “It’s just bodies,” I said, irritation lining my tone.
Storm finally got over his fear this was a portal to hell and came inside. “What’s so special about these bodies?”
What, indeed?
I looked closer, having to squint a little because the lighting in here was so dim. My eyes first went to a contrast in the dark. A body with blond hair. Overly long, messy blond hair.
I grabbed the body, gripping its shoulder and yanking it out so I could see it.
Like a freight train, recognition slammed into me.
It was me.
Memories of looking in the mirror when I was alive crashed over me. Wave after wave of broken clips of memories… of me brushing my teeth, combing my hair, studying a black eye or a busted lip.
This was the body I was born in. The body that carried me through my life. The body that used to laugh and eat cookies. The body that used to hug… them.
“Uh, Charming?”
