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“Good. Remember me the way I was.”
There was something in her voice, a warning. With dawning horror, Kara asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I can’t go back,” Marlie whispered, scooting away from Kara. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’m not Marlie anymore. She died long ago and I’m not Hailey.”
“Don’t!” Tate warned, as if he, too, suddenly understood.
“Marlie, please—”
But it was too late.
Marlie extracted her handgun from her pocket and before she said a word, placed it to her temple.
“No!” Kara struggled forward.
Tate lunged.
Blam!
The gun went off, blasting loudly, echoing through the frigid forest.
Marlie collapsed, the bullet exploding through her skull.
Kara screamed. Threw herself forward.
Tate’s arms surrounded her, holding her close against the snow-packed and bloodstained ground. “Shhhh. It’ll be all right,” he said, cradling her head against the crook of his neck, his fingers splayed in her hair as he forced her face away from the gore and she shook; from the inside out, she trembled.
“It’ll be okay. Shhh. Shhh. Shhh,” he intoned.
But he was lying. She knew that now, staring at her sister’s motionless body. There was no chance Marlie had survived. None.
He rocked her slowly, holding her tight as lights flashed, people shouted, the sirens shrieked.
Help had finally come.
Far too late.
Kara was cold inside, a part of her—hope, she supposed—now dead, because tonight in this snowstorm, she’d finally found her sister, only to lose her again.
And this time it was forever.
