“She’s dead,” Boaz said.
My heart skipped a beat, and I straightened. “What did you say?”
“This one’s dead,” he repeated. “You must’ve killed her.”
My mouth dropped open, and I shook my head. I forced my gaze down at Harriet’s body. Her arm was twisted awkwardly behind her back, and her knee was bent the wrong way. But it was the broken shard of a china plate protruding from her eye that I would remember the most.
“Can you help her?” I asked Boaz. “Turn her or something?”
“It’s too late.”
I stumbled backwards into the wall and slid to the floor. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I only wanted to—”
“Win?” Boaz finished for me. He walked back to me, and knelt down, taking my head in his hands gently. “You did what was necessary.”
“But I didn’t have to do that.”
“Look at me. She is gone and there is nothing you can do to fix it. Let’s go home and get you taken care of. You are all that matters.” Boaz helped me to my feet.
I leaned into him, my breaths coming in short gasps. “We should do something. An ambulance. The police.”
“No,” Boaz said. “Your grandfather will take care of it. This is no longer our concern.” Boaz guided me toward the front door, his hand warm against the small of my back.
I dug my feet into the floor, but I was too weak to stop my momentum. “This feels wrong, Boaz. We can’t just leave!”
“It isn’t right or wrong. It just is.”
Before Boaz helped me out the door, I glanced back at Helen who still sat motionless in the corner. I mouthed the words “I’m sorry” but Helen didn’t see. She was somewhere else, somewhere dark and lonely.
As we walked toward the house, two servants scurried past us. I could only imagine their reaction when they saw the carnage, but then again, maybe they were used to seeing death while living with the Segurs. In my mind, I saw Harriet again, lying face down in a pool of blood. I stopped moving. “I should go back. I should help Helen.”
“There is nothing you can do for her. Without Harriet, she is dead, too.”
I leaned into Boaz. “What have I done?”
“Only what you were meant to do.” He pulled me forward until we reached his car that was parked a short distance down the lane.
I didn’t speak the entire ride back to Boaz’s, nor did I speak for several days after. I couldn’t even sleep or eat. Over and over, I replayed the events in my mind. Every move, every word. Boaz hadn’t told me to kill the twins. I had done it all on my own. This nightmare played out every hour of every day until I refused to come out of my room.
I was a murderer.
Boaz sat next to my bed daily, saying nothing, but on the seventh day, when the moon’s light filled the window, he finally spoke: “What you did was horrible. You destroyed the body of one and the mind of another. There is nothing more evil than taking a life. But for someone like you, that is to be expected. You are more powerful. This gives you the ability to do whatever you want. Remember the bear? People like us do not have to live by the same rules as others. You must learn to think differently. What you did is considered murder in the human world, but among ours, you simply did what was necessary. In fact, you will be admired for it.”
I blinked, moonlight disappearing and then reappearing. “Why was it so important to you?”
“Excuse me?”
“You promised to tell me why I should fight the twins.”
Boaz leaned back into his chair and squared his shoulders. “Because I wanted to see if you could. Only the strongest will be at my side.”
Afraid his answer would be that simple, I closed my eyes, tucked my hands beneath my chin, and curled up even further into the quilted bed.
Boaz leaned over and found my mouth. He kissed it gently. “You need to get over this.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Let me help you. Take my power. It will make you stronger.”
“Is that possible?”
“Between us? Yes. Take it from me, and let it overcome your guilt.” His lips brushed over mine again. “Concentrate.”