Page 42 of Conjure

“I need you to look after Dominic and your mom.”

I never saw him die. Never saw him pull the trigger. But I do remember how numb I felt as I breached the surface, gulping down gasping breaths. This is different, but the numbness is the same.

Dominic pulls me into his embrace. I feel nothing as a whisper of wind shifts my hair, swaying the branches overhead, singing a song of woes.

His hatred for you really is delicious.

TWELVE

CAMRYN

Seatedon the fountain steps before class, we watch the students mill about the courtyard, some with their eyes buried in their phones and others with books clasped to their chests.

Overhead, clouds slowly move across the sky.

“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Gwen says, her voice as distant as her gaze.

No one says a thing.

It feels like a cruel joke that we’re all here and forced to attend classes after two college students are dead. The world never stops, not even for a brief second.

His hatred for you really is delicious.

The words play on repeat in my head. I’m going crazy, wondering if I heard him correctly, wondering if I’m finally losing my mind in this relentless heat. Weird things happen in this small town.

“I wish he would have talked to us,” Lily says in a quiet voice that I would have missed if she wasn’t seated beside me.

Aron stiffens, lifting his gaze. The pain I see there squeezes my chest. “He wasn’t suicidal.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No? Then what the fuck did you mean?”

“You were there… He shot himself?—”

“Shut up!” he snaps, and Lily shrinks back. Tears cling to her lashes when she drops her gaze to her lap.

A shadow settles over us as the sun disappears behind the clouds, and I peer up at the darkening sky, then let my eyes drift to a nearby tree. A warm breeze sweeps through the leaves.

“Let’s not argue,” Gwen pleads. “We don’t know what happened?—”

“Benny wasn’t suicidal,” Aron grits out. “Sure, we don’t know what the fuck happened, but that thing up on the roof…wasn’t Benny.”

Lily’s hair shields her face as she sniffles beside me.

Seated on her other side, Brittany wraps her arm around her shoulders. “What are you saying, Aron? That someone else made him push Erica off the roof?”

Gwen winces.

“Not someone,” Aron answers, gritting his teeth before peering overhead at the rolling clouds. “Something.”

The wind picks up, and with it comes the sound of leaves rustling. Shivers work their way down my spine as I tear my eyes away, meeting his accusatory gaze.

“The séance,” he states, staring at me dead on.

Gwen speaks up. “You think the séance caused it?”

Aron doesn't look away, his black hair moving in the breeze. “I think we welcomed something in.”