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“She replicated your nursery because if she pretended you were still with her, she could pretend that she never left you behind,” Polly explains, confirming what I know to be true.
The locked room that I stumbled upon, the one with the purple door—that was my room. Cynthia never let me go.
“My middle name is Cara,” Polly says with a sob. “I never knew why, but now, now I know why.”
She loved me.
This entire time, she loved me.
She wore my picture around her neck and devoted a room to me, never letting me go.
Touching the comb in my hair, I realize it looked so familiar because it was Cynthia’s.
And eventually, it would have been mine.
Weakly reaching for the locket around her neck, Cynthia attempts to take it off, but she’s too frail to raise her arms. So Polly bends down beside her and softly unclasps it from around her neck.
“Here, this belongs to you,” she cries, tears falling down her face.
I look down at Cynthia, and as she gives me a weak smile, I see her life expiring before me.
We’re running out of time.
Accepting the locket, I slip it around my neck and bend forward, kissing Cynthia lightly on the forehead once again.
“You’re going to live, I promise you.”
As her eyes drift shut and her breathing becomes shallow, I whisper with a sob, “I love you…Mom.”
A smile touches Cynthia’s lips, and she looks peaceful, almost relieved, and I know if she were to die, she’d be happy.
But that’s not fucking happening.
Not on my watch.
Kissing her forehead one final time, I stand, more determined than ever to take back my life.
“Is that the number?” I ask Polly, nodding to the bloody piece of paper in her hand.
She nods and hands it to me. “Please save our mom.”
I throw my arms around her and hug her harder than I’ve ever hugged her before because she isn’t the bratty little half sister I once knew. No, she is my sister, through and through.
“I will,” I reply with complete determination, as I mean every word.
“Abi, I love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for giving me my normal.” I wrap her into a tight embrace, holding on for as long as I can before we break apart because it’s time.
“Let’s go,” I breathlessly demand, calling out to Phil who stands feet away, watching his sister die before his eyes.
My curt command snaps him back to reality, and he shakes his head, transporting him back to the here and now.
He nods because although he looks overcome that his sister has been shot, it’s still business as usual, and our agreement still stands.
I wasn’t expecting a happy ending because no matter what, Phil is, and will always be, number one.
I still owe him money, and after this little “mishap,” he needs to flee the crime scene more than ever before.
“Call an ambulance the minute we leave,” I order. “And call her doctor friend as well. He can look after her until the ambulance arrives.”
