Clover faced Rose. “How was your day?” he asked.
I stopped listening to their conversation when Violet’s hand circled the handle. Come on. I knew I was supposed to run when she hit him, but he was standing between her and the stairs. What if he managed to grab her as she tried to get past him? I had to stay to help her too. I could kick him if he tried to get up. I wasn’t strong, but I would give it a go. She was risking everything to help me; I wanted to help her if I needed to as well.
Before anyone had time to blink, and more important, before Rose and Poppy had time to register what was happening, Violet struck him over the back of the head with the pan and he launched forward.
No one made a noise. I expected Rose and Poppy to scream—they weren’t expecting it—but they didn’t. Clover stumbled a grand total of two steps, and by the time he’d corrected his balance, Violet was beside him as she made a run for the stairs.
He snatched her arm in his iron grip. She screamed.
8
SUMMER
Violet’s eyes widened in horror as she realized he hadn’t gone down like she’d planned. This is why we should have discussed different scenarios, I screamed at her in my head. Now we were never getting near that key and he would make doubly sure the door was locked at all times.
I pressed my side into the banister and dug my nails into the wood. What were we going to do now? Breathing suddenly became too hard, and I felt like I was drowning. Tears sprung to my eyes as I realized I wasn’t going home.
“Clover, I’m sorry. I don’t know—”
“Shut up,” he growled. Spit flew from his mouth. He managed to keep his posture calm and controlled, relaxed even, when he sounded so murderously angry. What was he going to do now? The image of the knife he kept in his pocket flashed through my mind. He wouldn’t really use it, though, would he? It was just to scare us into behaving.
Out of his pocket came that same knife, the blade shining proudly under the light directly above. I gulped and I wanted to close my eyes through his threat and until he left but I couldn’t not watch. My back hurt where the edge of the banister dug in as I tried to get farther back.
Violet raised her trembling hands and shook her head. “Please don’t. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve already given you a second chance, which isn’t something I offer lightly. There are no third chances, Violet.” He spoke so calmly it sent a chill down my spine. Without another word from either of them, he took a step forward. There was no hesitation when he shoved the knife into her stomach.
My legs gave way, and I collapsed to the floor, gripping the wooden banister as if it was my lifeline. I tried to scream, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Tears streamed down my face and I blinked hard to clear my vision. It’s a dream, it’s a dream, I repeated over and over in my head. Wake up. Wake up!
Violet gasped hard, desperate for breath, and slumped to the floor, limp and lifeless. She was dead. I had never seen a dead body before, only fake ones on TV. I stared at her, dazed. She was dead. It was over quicker than it would’ve been if we were in a movie.
His head snapped around and he faced Rose and Poppy. “Clean this up. Now.” Turning back, he bounded up the stairs and out the door, locking it behind him.
Poppy pulled me up, dragging my stunned body to the sofa, where she then pushed me down. “Shh, stay here.” There was no danger of me going anywhere. I literally couldn’t move, not an inch. It was as if my body had seized up.
I looked on in shock, breathing heavily, wide-eyed as Rose and Poppy gathered a bucket, mop, and what looked like another bucket full of cleaning supplies. “Oh God, she’s really dead,” Poppy whispered, almost in disbelief.
Rose squeezed her shoulder and brushed her fingers over Violet’s face, closing her eyes. “Get the body bag, Poppy.” My eyes bulged and my throat dried. “Get the body bag, Poppy” were five words that instantly burned themselves into my memory. They had done this before.
A small pool of blood had started to form beneath her body. I couldn’t take my eyes off the bright red liquid. Rose took Violet’s hand and kissed it. “Good-bye, sweetheart,” she whispered. I gagged, slapping my hand over my mouth as I ran to the bathroom.
Rose and Poppy were struggling to pick up Violet when I came back in the room; there was no way I was going to offer to help them put someone in a body bag. They carefully laid her down and pulled the sides of the bag up. Even though they struggled to move her, they never asked for my help. They either didn’t want to make me so soon or they just knew it wasn’t happening.