Page 79 of Dead Love

Which was easy to imagine until I saw her in person. She pulled hair behind her ear, showing off those big green eyes, sparkling under the fluorescent lights. Andrew said something, and she laughed. My stomach hardened with nerves.

“Kora,” I said, my voice low. She was across the office; I could barely see the details in her face, but I knew it was her. I had been hunting her for so long. I could always spot her in a crowded room.

“Kora,” I said again. Sheriff Mike brought a bottle of water to her, and Shea put an arm around her daughter. Kora’s eyes were half-lidded, her shoulders loose.

“Flower,” I said.

Kora instantly straightened, her hand grazing the back of her neck as if I was breathing there. Then she turned toward the darkness leading to me. Her eyes locked on mine, and still, she said nothing. She must have come here to press charges. So that they could lock me up forever.

Everything inside of me boiled up, threatening to incinerate me. If the day came, I would push her into that grave and watch her die.

CHAPTER26

Kora

Inside the police station,processing my statement didn’t take long since my father had prepared one for me. It was vague, stating that I had been abducted, and while I had said I would sign it over the phone, I couldn’t put the pen to the paper now.

“You take it home,” Andrew said, putting an arm around my back. “Think it over. It’s a lot to take in. Trust me,” he gave a sad smile, “We all get it.”

“You’ve been through so much,” Shea said. “It’s understandable that you’d want to take time with it.”

“Or I can write my own,” I said.

“That’s not necessary,” Sheriff Mike said. “Mine is perfectly functional. And besides, it…”

I zoned out, forcing myself to smile and laugh so that my mother would feel safe. So that everyone would leave me alone. So that I could go home, back to that hotel room, and bottle everything up inside of me again. So I could go back to being empty. To forgetting him.

Flower.

The hairs on the back of my neck lifted. I glanced at the hallway that led to the jail. Vincent stood in the center of one of the cells, his gaze locked on me, hatred growing in his eyes. Chills ran down my back.

I shouldn’t have cared about Vincent. I listed the things I knew: hemighthave been involved in his brother’s death; hemighthave burned my parents’ house; and he had, in fact,definitelyabducted me; but he had alsosavedme from death. But there was no way that he could deny that he had wanted to murder me. I had seen the grave. Nearly been shoved inside of the crematory. Ran my fingertips over the daffodil engraved on my headstone:Here Lies My Flower.

He had been that close to killing me before; why wouldn’t he kill Nyla too?

* * *

The next morning,the air was infused with burnt coffee. I wrinkled my nose, but when I realized what it was—that my mother was out of bed—I darted up. I glanced around. Where was the outfit she had laid out for me? She sat at the edge of the cushioned chair, a styrofoam cup in her hand. Her hair was shoulder-length, curled in. The same length as mine.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice pleased. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

I tilted my head, rubbing my eyes. “You’re…” I looked around. What had changed since I had gone to sleep? “You’re up?”

“It’s a new day,” she said, her smile sparkling white. She got another styrofoam cup from the dresser. “You take cream and sugar with your tea, don’t you?” I didn’t, but I didn’t say anything. She was trying, and she had slid right back into our old routine like I had never left. Like nothing had happened. Like she had always had short hair.

She was as numb as I was supposed to be.

I lifted the cup to my nose. “Smells good,” I said. “Did you get it in the lobby?”

“In the room.” She motioned to the pod machine. I guessed I had slept through it. I motioned at her cup.

“Is the coffee any good?”

“Don’t know,” she said. “Haven’t tried it yet.”

I raised a brow. “But you’ve been here since the house fire, right?”

“Haven’t wanted any.”