Page 109 of Pretty Thing

Jim lands in a heap, gurgling and coughing blood onto the snow. Terror shines back at me from his eyes.

I suck in a deep breath, my body trembling from the adrenaline coursing through my body.

Our eyes meet, and I snarl.

“This is a real shame, Uncle Jim. I love you, but I can’t allow anyone to twist Eden’s thoughts against me. She is my whole heart. I wish you’d just…been quiet and let us be happy.”

He reaches for me with a bloody hand, but I step away.

“I guess you’ll be quiet now.”

Turning around, I go back inside. I close and lock the backdoor, then walk into the kitchen to wash the knife and my hands. Sheathing the blade, I stuff it in the backpack I left in the hall and give the place one final look. I really wanted to keep it in the family.

Why does everyone ruin my plans?

Pulling on my gloves, I set the lock and walk out the front door with a smile on my face. My pack gets tossed in the trunk with Eden’s, and I slip into the front seat.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Jim asked if we want to come back in the summer to go camping.” Eden smiles wide. “I told him that’s a great idea,” I say, putting the car in drive.

“That sounds amazing. This place will be so pretty in the summer.”

I’ll make sure to come up in the spring and dispose of whatever is left of Jim’s body.

“Did you find us music?”

I glance in the rearview, watching the cottage disappear.

I don’t need any family. I only need Eden.

thirty

​. . .​

Eden

Felix calls my name, and my eyes flutter open.

My whole body aches when I sit up. Maybe losing my virginity and then spending hours on a snowmobile wasn’t the right call. I refuse to tell Felix, though.

He wanted to turn around so many times when we were out on the trail. But being out there was the freest and most alive I’ve felt in so long. I didn’t want it to end.

The world outside the window is shadowed by the afternoon sun. Snow dusts the trees, and the sky is that heavy winter color that always feels like it may start snowing again at any moment.

I turn to Felix when I realize we aren’t moving. He’s watching me.

Is he waiting for something?

“Where are we?”

I glance out the windshield and freeze. My stomach drops when I recognize the road.

No. No. No.

The guardrail on the bridge is still badly bent with caution pylons and a yellow flashing light to warn drivers. A reminder of what happened here. The snow-dusted trees I’ve just been admiring are missing bark and charred. Crosses and flowers line both sides of the road. Tears sting my eyes. I try to breathe, but all I can smell is smoke from the car fires.

I grip my hoodie, trying to calm my racing heart.