Page 94 of Make You Mine

“Girl, that’s an ick.”

“Strong independent women are an ick for you?”

She nudges me. “I just wish you’d enjoy yourself more. Where’s the Maddy I met last time we went out?”

“I left her at home,” I say. “Last time she went out, her date turned up missing.”

She winces. “Okay, girl. But that’s not on you. You know that, right?”

Hannah massages my arm. Her phone pings, and she takes it out and smiles.

“Blondie?” I ask.

“Yep. He wants to meet for dinner.”

“Perfect then.” I press my hands together. “Go have fun.”

She’s been seeing Blondie from the pub ever since that night, and she comes to work glowing lately. Apparently, Blondie himself is feeling down because of Lucien’s disappearance, so he’s always texting her for emotional support. She doesn’t mind, and she’s keeping me updated about Lucien, too, whose location is still unknown.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then. Yay, for working on the weekend.” The sarcasm in Hannah’s voice makes me giggle.

“Yay!” I shake both my fists in triumph. “It’ll be so much fun.”

“Manifesting,” she says, pausing for a minute. “Alright. I’m going to stop talking and go. I think Joseph’s still around if you need him. He’s supposed to lock everything.”

I wait until she leaves to do what I need to do, making sure she exits the school before I put my plan in motion.

Of course, Joseph being here is a downside I didn’t expect. I’ll have to be cautious.

I’m pretty sure he didn’t lock any rooms yet, since we’re both still here and the lights are on everywhere.

Before I get to the real spying, there’s something else pressing on my shoulders. Something that had slipped my mind with everything going on, until Hannah’s conversation reminded me. I forgot Lucien’s finger in my drawer. I need to get rid of it before it stinks the whole place up. Or before Joseph moves things around while cleaning and finds it.

I rush to my classroom, still watching my back.

What do you do with a severed finger?

Shred it in the shredding machine? That sounds…gruesome. I shake my head.

Flush it down the toilet? Nope. It could get stuck and clog it.

Dumping it somewhere with flowing water sounds better. The ocean, maybe.

I’m by my desk, with a lump in my throat, my breath heavy as I prepare myself to see it again.

Pulling the drawer open, a scream almost comes out of my mouth but stops mid-action.

The finger isn’t in it. Instead, another familiar gift box, the size of a shoebox.

A black bow decorates it, in contrast to the red box.

I take it out, praying there’s not another severed body part in it.

Sighing, I pick out the new present.

A pair of white panties. A soft-looking pair. Silk, maybe.

On top of it, a rose. It’s real, the flowery aroma is fresh.