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My head buzzed louder, my hands reaching up to grip my skull—the buzzing was so loud. My confusion and panic rose as I blindly looked around the room. My vision seemed to fade in and out like a filter on a phone.
Staggering into a wall, I heard the sound of glass shattering, a picture frame falling to the ground and sending shards scattered around my feet. Kneeling down, I grabbed the photo that was laid down. I flipped it over and stared at the two people.
I saw myself—happy, playful, and smiling, but I didn’t remember this. I didn’t know where I was. The person beside me had curly brown hair, red lips, and a kind teasing smile. This was that girl. This was…
I screamed, my mind splintering in two. My vision went dark. Blinking, I saw my hands coated in blood. Blinking again, I saw myself hugging a stranger…no, a cop. Flashing again and again, I saw only the images as they flowed into my mind.
Conversations, people, Quinn, my friend, my partner.
The battle between him and Lucius.
My own hands as they brought down a bottle on his head.
More memories, more blood, and my nose began to drip red onto my hands, splattering all over the picture, making everything appear as if it were covered in a bright red haze.
Cassie.
My sister.
My beautiful sister.
I screamed again, thrashing as the images continued to invade my mind, ripping me into two and shattering my heart, ruining my sense of self.
“I killed her,” I whispered, my teeth chattering so badly I could barely see straight. Lucius was there, trying to hold me, trying to calm me down.
“I killed her,” I repeated, my tears and blood mingling as it distorted the image of Cassie’s face on the picture below me.
Her look of shock and pain flashed before my eyes. Her strength to fight, her bravery… her death.
“I killed her,” I said again. Louder. Broken. Agonized, “I killed my sister!”
My world shattered.
I wasn’t a person.
I was a monster.
I was a liar, a fake, a completely broken doll.
The dealers. Their faces. All their faces flashed before my eyes like flipping cards, names, and profiles on paper, to their screams and blood dripping from their bodies.
I did that. I killed them. I killed all of them.
I was chasing…myself.
The reason why I could never find any trace of Snow White was because it was my own reflection. My own hands. My own kills. Lucius was rocking me back and forth, humming a strange Russian lullaby in my ears. My pain made me feel raw, the horror at what I’d done—the blood on my hands.
My sister.
Cassie.
Gone because of me.
Killed…because of me.
Sobs wracked my whole body, making my aches feel like I was physically separating from my physical form.
Snow White, I thought about the mantra in my head.
