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I feel absolutely nothing when I look down at my aunt. Her head is twisted to the side, and her face is smashed in, not even close to being recognizable. Without checking, I know she’s dead.
I get up and go to the bathroom. I don’t look at my face as I stand in front of the sink and wash my hands with soap and hot water. After all of the blood is gone, I go back to my bedroom and straight to the bed.
The little girl hasn’t moved. She’s in the same position she was in when I first walked into the room. I take the small blanket at the end of my bed and put it over her naked body, then I touch her shoulder.
“Hey, little girl.”
Still, she doesn’t move or make a sound. Someone must have given her something to make her sleep.
I sit for a minute on the side of the bed, deciding what I should do. I’m supposed to call the police when something like this happens, but I don’t want to do that. If the police come, they’ll take me away from my mother. Aunt Rosa was my legal guardian, but she’s dead now. I look at my aunt, whose head is peaking out around the end of the bed.
I don’t want to leave my mother. Maybe Mrs. Myers can be my guardian now. Or even Mrs. Lockwood. But I don’t think that’ll happen if the police know I killed my aunt. Maybe they’ll lock me up like they do bad people. I don’t feel like a bad person. I feel like a protector because I killed my aunt so she wouldn’t hurt the little girl. But I don’t think the police will say the same.
I have to get rid of her body, I decide, and think of different ways I can do that. I settle on the easiest one. Before I can do that though, I need to get the little girl out of the house. She can’t be found here because it’ll bring up questions I can’t answer.
The girl is smaller than me by a lot, so even though I’m young, I manage to carry her downstairs. My eyes dart around the whole time, worried one of the staff will be out wandering the halls, but none of them are. I have to set her down to open the front door and then again to close it. I carry her out through the gate and down the road. I have to stop every so often because my arms get tired. It seems like it takes forever before we get to the nearest house from mine, and the girl still hasn’t moved an inch. The only reason I know she’s alive is because I can hear her breathing.
I set her down on the front porch, and I’m reaching for the doorbell, ready to sprint away, when she lets out a little noise. My gaze jerks down. I decided to leave the blindfold around her eyes just in case she woke up because I didn’t want her to see my face.
She moves a little and moans. “Wha?—”
“Shh… it’s okay,” I whisper and push a few strands of hair off her face. She’s awake, but I don’t think she’s fully awake. “You’re safe now.”
“W-who’s there?”
She turns her head and lifts her hand. I don’t stop her when she removes the blindfold. A pair of light brown eyes the same color as honey stare up at me.
“What’s your name?” I ask. I don’t know why I want to know, I just do.
Her voice is faint when she replies, and she passes out as soon as the name leaves her mouth.
“Lili.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
HIM
Just as I approach the library door, my mother’s wheelchair appears with Beatrice behind it.
“Oh, hello, Ryker,” she says with a slight jump. “You startled me.”
I bend over my mother and place a kiss on top of her head. On her lap, under her hand, there’s a yellow flower.
“How is she today?” I ask. I always ask this, and the answer is always the same.
“She’s fine. She was out in the garden today for a while with Savina and her guests. I believe that’s where the flower came from. I was going to put it in water and set it on her bedside table.”
I remember Savina mentioning that the mother and young daughter Bishop and I brought to the Rivers’ house a while ago were going to visit today. The mother, Liliana, is The Raven Group’s latest client.
“She’ll like that,” I lie. My mother won’t even notice the flower, but it’s still a kind gesture.
She starts pushing my mother’s chair, but I stop her. “Do you know where Savina is?”
“I believe she was going to spend some time in her art studio.”
I dip my chin at her and head off toward the back of the house. It’s only been a few hours since I’ve seen my wife, but I’m impatient to set my eyes on her again. This need I have for Savina grows each day. You’d think having her in my home would have eased that need somewhat, but it’s only grown stronger. I wouldn’t have left today, but I had a meeting on the mainland with the private investigator I hired to find out who’s been sending me those notes and pictures. He’s currently working on a lead that might shed light on the situation. Unfortunately, the meeting took longer than I expected.
Mrs. Myers must still be out because the kitchen is empty. Not that she spends all of her time here, but this is the room she can be found in more often than not. The doors to Savina’s art studio are open, but when I step inside the room, it’s empty. The glass has been tinted, and with the doors open, she must have been in here at some point.