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“And you’re the good twin?” I asked, wondering what it would be like to be so closely tied to someone in such a way. Not knowing I would soon resent the connection.
“Only if you believe in that stuff.”
“And I don’t,” I said.
“I know you don’t.” Nicole smiled. “We’re good and bad, like Athena, right?”
I believed that for everyone but the being in my dreams, the demon who haunted the sky at night.
And sometimes, I didn’t believe it of myself, either.
Some part of me felt dark, feral, and ready to snap. Like my waking hours were make believe, and my dreams were more real than anything else.
TWENTY-ONE
Valerie loved old televisions shows. And on the nights they’d been able to stay at motels while living on the road, she’d soaked up many, caught up on all they offered.
Hart Hollow was a relic. A throwback to simple times. To the 50s or 60s. It suited her, this new life she was carving out. However lonely it was.
She drove to the Town & Country Supermarket that night, avoiding the missing persons poster for the Hughes girl.
Everything inside was familiar.
Everyone was familiar.
She’d learned the names of the teenagers who worked there, the manager, the patrons. The same ones she saw going in and out of the café. She knew she was now one of them, a citizen of Hart Hollow, but she still felt different.Separate.
A young new girl named Janessa worked that night. She smiled and waved when Valerie came in and she nodded, ducking into an aisle. Valerie did not feel up to talking after her long day at the café. She’d went home after her shift for a nap but needed milk for the dinner she planned to make. After she grabbed the milk, she rushed to the magazine rack by the checkout as she heard someone walk in.
“Hello Deacon Rex, how are you?” Janessa asked in her singsong voice.
Valerie cringed and grabbed a magazine as the only two normal people in the building talked.
Valerie’s milk felt warmer in her hand, but she didn’t want to interact with the Deacon in front of the young girl. It made her face feel hot, and she worried her thoughts would be plain on her face. She couldn’t have that.
She rounded the corner and ducked down an aisle, grabbing a cereal box, using it as a shield. She listened to the Deacon and the young girl converse, their conversation naturally turning to God.
“I never got to ask you how long your family plans to stay in Hart Hollow. Are they enjoying the community?” the Deacon asked.
Janessa sighed, a breathy thing, and Valerie rolled her eyes. “I think so. My father was a pastor in Orlando, but he said the city was getting too big. He didn’t like the crime.”
“Well, you’ll be free of that here in our one stoplight town,” the Deacon assured.
Valerie peered around the corner, and she saw the Deacon’s jaw tense, almost as if he could see her.
“That’s what he thinks too. So I imagine we’ll be staying. He’s thinking of finding a church to lead here, too.”
Valerie walked farther down the aisle, away from their conversation, but close enough to know when they were done talking so she could check out in peace.
She felt like a fool—like a teenage girl all over again—wanting what she couldn’t have.
Wanting what Serendipity would take.
And every girl, every woman, had her face. She avoided looking at Janessa as she checked out, afraid she might slap her, confuse her with her dead sister. But she didn’t, and a few minutes later she was safe in her car in the parking lot, nerves shot.
The knock on her window was deafening. She pissed her pants a little. And when Valerie looked up to the owner of the knuckles to blame, she was glad she didn’t say the Lord’s name in vain.
Valerie rolled down her window and smiled at the Deacon as she squeezed her thighs together so he couldn’t smell her. She was feeling like an animal around him.
