Page 128 of Her Dark Lies

I’ve been drawing Morgan’s death again. That moment has become my dearest subject. There is something arresting about the combination of her old beauty mingled with her new at the moment of her death that is irresistible to me. It’s terribly morbid, yes, but I can’t seem to get her face out of my head.

The fall crushed her jaw and an occipital lobe. She had to have them reconstructed, and that’s why she seemed so much softer, so less intense than what she was born with.

I’m sure you’re wondering. It’s only natural.

I had Morgan buried in the crypt. I wanted to keep her close. After all the Comptons put her through, it seemed only fitting. A gesture of respect for a valiant adversary. We loved the same man, and we handled that love differently. But the Comptons were hard on her.

Weren’t they?

I can’t get her last words out of my head.

I have replayed the moment of her death over, and over, and over, and I’m virtually positive what she said was “...killed me.”

She could have said anything.

I love you.

Fuck you.

Forgive me.

But with her eyes bugging out of her head at the pressure of my hand on her windpipe, she provided this narrative: “...killed me.”

I replay this moment again, and again.

It had to be “Elliot killed me.” Had to be.

I suppose it could have been her begging for me to end it. A declarative “Kill me.”

But no, there was a word that came before, I saw her lips move.

They touched together lightly before the harsh whisper came out. I am probably imagining it. I mean, if you run through the people who were there the night she went over the cliff, sound them out, and then match them to how her lips touched...

I’ve done it in the mirror. So many times, now.

Elliot—lips open, tongue tapping the front teeth.

Will—lips pursed, then the tongue tap.

Brice—lips barely pursing before opening full.

Ana—lips fully open.

Jack.

Jis a sound that must be done with the lips opened, mouth open, tongue touching the palate like a small, hissing kiss. If I were to play a mental video of her last moment and read Morgan’s lips, if I were to apply this formula to the sound of her whisper, it is very possible the missing word is...Jack.

Jack killed me.

I suppose we’ll never know for sure, will we?

Because I will make sure of it.

However long the island allows me to be a Compton wife, for we die before our time, I will stop at nothing to protect my family.