“My head hurts now,” I croak, wiping my blackened tears away, and then I grab a tissue and loudly blow my nose.
“Drink more wine, it’ll make it worse, but at least you’ll be buzzed.”
I laugh, taking a sip as she also blows her nose.
“Where is Zade, by the way?” she asks.
“I don’t know, actually. After our training session, he dipped out pretty quickly, saying he had to take care of something. He didn’t say what it was about, and I was too sweaty and mentally exhausted to care at that moment.”
We both shrug it off. He could’ve realized we ran out of toilet paper and needed to replenish for all I know. I think if it were anything important, he would’ve said.
For the next hour, Daya and I finish off the bottle of Merlot and I’m
pleasantly buzzed. I also decide that I’m going to have to be very careful with drinking from now on. It feels a little too nice, and I refuse to use it as a crutch.
I’d rather work through my trauma the healthy way. You know—by
murdering Claire with my bare hands.
We’re in the middle of laughing over a stupid video someone posted on social
media when the front door bangs open, and two voices are snapping at each
other.
One is Zade’s. The other is a girl’s.
Sage and caramel eyes meet in a collision of confusion, and what the fuck.
With a slight wobble, I stand up and make my way toward the front door. And
then turn right back around, rushing for my friend when I see who Zade brought
home.
“Daya, there’s a crazy chick in the house. Run.”
“What?” she asks, alarm in her tone.
“Don’t call me crazy!” the girl screeches from the front, and I grimace. I’ve
never had the pleasure of meeting her, and I was okay with living life without that pleasure.
Shoulders hiked up to my ears, I slowly pivot and watch Zade stalk toward me, appearing exhausted and annoyed. Behind him is the murderous girl who lurked behind the walls in Satan’s Affair.
Sibel.
“Baby, we have a guest.”
Glancing at the girl, I shift uncomfortably, unsure of how the fuck to respond.
Clearing my throat, I settle with, “I can see that.”
Sibel is staring at Daya and me with a broad smile on her face. The last time I
saw her, she was dressed as a doll with makeup that made it appear like her porcelain face was fissured.
While her chocolate brown hair is still piled high in pigtails, her face is bare
of doll makeup. She would be beautiful if the unhinged look in her eyes wasn’t
so distracting. She looks exactly how she did on the TV after she was
apprehended for murdering four politicians.
With Zade.
Except he was never caught for those murders.
“Ladies, this is Sibby,” Zade introduces tiredly, waving a hand at her before
coming over to my side. I tense as he nears, splitting my attention between watching the space between Zade and me close while keeping an eye on the crazy girl.
The four men she murdered doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the
number of people she’s killed. For five years, she stayed in that haunted fair and
went on a spree. Whoever she deemed as evil was killed in very gruesome ways.
I’ve had enough experience with murderous girls, and I really, really don’t want any more.
She waves her hand animatedly at us, excitement twinkling in her brown
eyes. Then she turns them to my house, slowly taking in Parsons Manor.
“Wow,” she breathes. “It’s creepy in here. This is so perfect.” Her head whips
back to me, and I’m not proud of the not-so-subtle flinch. “I hope you don’t mind my henchmen and me staying for a bit,” she says.
“There’s more?” I ask Zade, turning to him with pinched brows. He sighs.
“Some people say they’re not real, but they are,” Sibel explains, not looking
the least bit ashamed of admitting she sees people that others can’t see.
Zade meets my stare, a grin on his face.
“Sibby is crazy,” he says.
She stomps her foot, shooting a glare at him. “I’m not crazy, Zade. Just because you can’t see what I see, doesn’t mean I’m the weird one.”
I cock my head, completely baffled at how she’s even here. Last I heard, she
was locked up in a psych ward awaiting trial.
“She escaped,” Zade supplies, noting the confusion on my face.
“Oh,” I say, because I have no idea what the hell else to say.
“That’s… good?” Daya chips in, sounding wholly unsure if that is actually good.
Zade sighs for the millionth time. “Sibby is on the Most Wanted list. She took
matters into her own hands—” Zade pauses to send a scathing look her way—
“and broke out of the psych ward. Considering she took the fall for something we both did, I felt that it was only fair I gave her a place to stay. Temporarily. ”
She nods once, as if Zade summed up her entire life story perfectly.
“I’m going to take her back to my place. I’m not expecting you to let her stay
here—”
“But it’s so creepy here!” she exclaims, as if that’s a good reason to stay. And
well… it kind of is.
“—so, I’ll be dropping her off soon. I just wanted you to properly meet her since I’m…” he trails off, glancing at her. “Stuck with her,” he decides, turning to look back at me. “I’m most definitely stuck with her.”
Sibel frowns, opening her mouth to say something, but Daya cuts in.
“Uh, wait a second, took matters into her own hands how?” she questions, sending Sibel a suspicious look.
“I killed my therapist,” she answers, her smile dropping. “I didn’t want to kill
her. She smelled like pine trees, so she wasn’t a demon. The first and last person
I’ve ever hurt who wasn’t deserving, I promise.”
My mouth drops. “Zade,” I whisper, my discomfort growing. Sibel looks to
me, noting my deepening fear.
“Please don’t be scared of me. You smell like the most wonderful flowers. I would never hurt you.”
“She’s not going to hurt you, baby,” Zade reassures quietly. I look up to meet
his gaze, mismatched eyes full of sincerity.
“I would’ve discussed this with you first, if I had any idea this was going to