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“It’s the artist Enzo has a crush on,” Ryden said. “The one who draws messed-up creatures.”

“Trish?” I asked, my frown deepening. A muffled conversation followed, along with another burst of laughter. Irene was the one who was laughing.

For a silly, stupid second, I felt a pang of jealousy. It was ridiculous, but I felt like she had found someone else to replace me.

I forced myself to laugh, though it sounded hollow even to my ears. “They sound like they’re having fun.”

“Just Enzo talking about what he thinks of Trish’s new morbid creature.”

“What’s it this time?” I asked, trying hard not to feel pathetic. It felt strange, this feeling. The loneliness clinging to my skin.

“Well, it’s a coral snake, eating its own tail. The rest is… too horrible to even talk about,” Ryden said with a scoff. “You’d like it. You and Enzo have weirdly similar tastes.”

I tapped my finger against the keyboard, typing Trish’s name, and frowned when a hundred results came, but nothing for who I was looking for.

What was her last name? Where was her home? Where did she come from?

“You okay, Red? You sound off.”

“I’m fine,” I lied quickly, staring at Trish’s name on the search bar.

“Red,” Ryden’s voice broke through my thoughts. I blinked, trying to think of her last name. “Irene’s not replacing you. You know that, right?”

I blinked. How in the hell did he do that? It was like he was reading my mind, and it was scary as fuck.

“Yeah, no,” I said. It felt like she was. “I’m going to go back to the dead bodies. I’ll see you in the evening.” I hung up, staring at the screen.

Artists often used a pseudonym. It wasn’t fair to suspect her, just because she was becoming friends with Irene, but…

But…

The feeling of discomfort never left, even as I finished my lunch and went back to Sister Serena’s body the second time.

10

THE VOID

RYDEN

When I walked back inside, Enzo was asking Trish if she’d like to stay for lunch.

“He’s whipped,” Irene said. “He looks at her like he wants to, you know, embalm her. In a romantic way.”

“Nothing about embalming is romantic,” I said with a wince. She shrugged.

“Till death do us part, with embalming fluids.”

I laughed and stopped when Enzo caught my eye. “What are you two talking about?”

“Irene here thinks you look at Trish like you want to preserve her forever.”

Enzo shot me a glare. “You’re both sick,” he muttered, turning back to Trish, who looked like she wouldn’t have minded being preserved forever.

I smiled when Enzo turned back to Trish and said something. She turned red and smiled.

Irene fiddled with her dress when they walked out.

“Were you talking to Yara?” Irene asked, refusing to look at me.