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Chapter Fifty Five
Blair
Today was perfect, for lack of a better word. I don’t usually believe in perfection, because it’s the imperfections in life and people that make them real and so much better, but how could I deny that’s what today was?
Even the car ride home is amazing. I drive with one hand out of the window, letting the wind flow between my fingers as day turns into night and the city comes alive. Music blasts through the speakers as we sing along, dancing at stoplights and just being silly. The smile never leaves my face, and I don’t think about anything other than being in this moment with Bray.
It only takes us about an hour to get home, and I park on the drive like normal, noticing the cop car isn’t outside like it should be, but I shrug it off and turn off the engine.
As I get out of the car, though, a bad feeling hits me. Every light in the house is on, and my heart slams as terror fills me. I know something’s wrong. Bray calls for me, but the wind steals his voice as I stride towards the house, moving faster and faster until I’m almost running. I need to see if they are okay.
The door is open, and I burst through it, frantically looking around. I find them in the hallway, their backs to me as they mutter. “Guys?” I rasp and then clear my throat. “Cyrus, Asher?” I call.
They freeze. Cyrus turns with his arms crossed, blocking something from my view, and his gaze goes to Bray behind me. “Get her out of here now,” he snarls.
Asher turns, still impeding my view, but for a moment, as he turned, I saw a flash of pale skin, an arm, and for some reason, I think of Faye.
“Faye?” I yell, rushing to them. Cyrus catches me, grunting as I struggle to get past him.
“Blair, it’s not Faye!” he yells when he realises I won’t stop. I sag, suddenly filled with relief.
“It’s not?” I whisper, searching his eyes. He nods, but he’s silent, worried.
Stepping back, I pretend to cease my efforts, but as he looks at Bray, I rush past them. I hear them swear as they reach for me, but it’s too late. I drop to my knees and my heart stops.
The world around me disappears.
“Mered—Mum?” I whisper, staring at her motionless body.
Her skin is still warm when I reach out to touch her, but her chest isn’t rising. Her eyes are open and unseeing, and her hair is everywhere. For some reason, I focus on that detail. She would have hated that. She was meticulous about her hair. It was always perfect and in place, and now it’s in disarray.
Her mouth is parted and coated in blood and smeared lipstick, and she has mascara tracks on her once perfectly made-up face. Her dress is hiked up to her stomach, but Cyrus bends over and pulls it down, covering her.
She’s dead.
I know that, but I can’t… I can’t…
“Meredith,” I say.
Asher kneels behind me, covering my hand that’s reaching for her. “My love, I’m so—”
I shrug him off and grab her shoulders and shake. “Meredith, wake up!” I yell.
“Blair,” Cyrus whispers.
“Meredith!” I snap.
“Blair!” he shouts sharply, getting my attention. My disbelieving eyes fill with tears as I raise them to his. “I’m so sorry, baby girl, but she’s dead.”
“Did you do this?” I demand, needing to know. My voice is cold, empty.
He flinches like I physically struck him. “I’m capable of a great many things and have committed a lot of sins, Blair, but killing your mother isn’t one of them.”
The way he says my name has me recoiling, and Asher wraps his arms around me as I just stare at her. “Then how? Why?” I ask as the tears finally begin to fall. My heart is torn. I hated her, I truly did. She made my life hell, she hurt and used me, but she was still my mother, and despite it all, the little girl that once loved her is breaking at the sight of her lifeless mother’s corpse tossed so carelessly on the floor like the rubbish I once called her.
“We don’t know. She was left at the front door,” Cyrus tells me then sighs. “Shit, that was harsh. Baby girl, I don’t know, but we will—”
“Stop,” I mutter and reach down, pulling a piece of paper off her dress I just noticed.
