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11:11 p.m.
Violet floated. Up. Up. Up.
No pain. No dread. Her thoughts were like evaporating clouds being stretched apart, disjointed.
Her brain was fuzzy and unhindered.
Lynn Tavish stood on the dock.
Violet lurked in the darkness, aware she was going to push her in and drown out everything mean and nasty Lynn had done and said. But in this new unencumbered memory, she hadn’t actually seen Lynn Tavish even though it was indeed Lynn on that dock.
Instead, Violet had pictured Reeva Rainwater walking on the dock toward her, her face snarled and her words penetrating Violet’s skin and bones like hot metal. Words that had been branded on her heart like Adam’s brand on Reeva’s skin. A shadowy presence swirled, turning her thoughts cold.
You’ll grow up to be just like him...given time.
You hate her. You want to kill her. That makes you a killer. The only time you’re happy is when you’re fantasizing of her death. How you’ll kill her and get away with it.
You’re cunning and clever. No one will ever know. You won’t even be suspected.
She hates you. She never wanted you to be born. You’re not worth giving life.
Reeva’s words rattled around her hollow chest.
I wish you were dead. You’re a monster.
You’re your father’s daughter.
Unloved. Unwanted. Unworthy.
She shoved Lynn Tavish into the waters to drown out the words, the pain—the unbearable pain.
And now she remembered her own words at shoving Lynn into the water.
“So long, Reeva.”
The cold wrapped its bony arm around her shoulders. That felt good, didn’t it? You should jump in too. Breathe in the water and end it.
You should have never been born in the first place. If he hadn’t taken Reeva...you’d have never been born.
She shouldn’t be here. Never should have been here.
No purpose.
No hope.
That was how it went down. Except...that wasn’t what she remembered now; there was more to the chilling memory that was now freed and coming to light.
Warmth had chased away those frigid thoughts and filled her with new thoughts, glowing and full of hope.
Jump in...and save her. You are not your father’s daughter.
And she’d known somehow, deep within her, that if she saved Lynn, she too would be saved. Violet had—jumped in. She’d rescued Lynn Tavish. She hadn’t truly wanted to murder the girl; she’d projected the pain and the hate for her mother onto her. She wanted to drown out Reeva. But until now those thoughts had been submerged. Now, they bobbed to the surface.
“I don’t want to kill you, Reeva,” she whispered now as a tear trickled down her cheek. “I want you to love me,” she murmured.
“What’s that, Agent?” Chris asked.
God, was that You? Was that Your voice? Your warmth? Your promise? Would You... Could You...love me?
