Page 36 of The 13th Daughter

Thirteen men and women.

The thirteenth daughter.

Lines from Emily's diary hit me.

A curse. The thirteenth daughter.

Miscalculated. I have to get them both away from here.

Them? My eyes widened. No. She couldn't be talking about me and Kay?

"CJ, what's wrong? You look like you're gonna throw up any second."

Thirteen. Kay's dreams of being burnt at the stake. Emily's dreams of darkness coming.

"CJ, you're scaring me," Kay's voice floated around me.

He's here. He's in the book. A boy she didn't recognize. He's back? Mom had asked.

"Cassie Jayne!"

It couldn't be. He couldn't be. That was impossible, insane.

Kay grabbed me by the arms and shook me. "What's wrong?" she yelled.

I opened my mouth to scream my questions at her, but my stomach twisted painfully. Be quiet, it hissed at me. I shut my mouth and tried to calm down. I had to get a hold of myself. I needed to think, to sort this out. I needed to write.

"I'm fine, Kay, just thinking."

"What the hell were you thinking about?" she demanded. "You scared me, CJ."

"I'm sorry. It's just that your dream made me remember the night Emily died. She almost burned to death in the car." The lie rolled easily off my tongue. I hated lying. It shouldn't be this easy. How easy was it for everyone around me? For Kay maybe?

Kay winced. At least it was a lie she would believe. I'd told her afterwards how horribly burned Emily had been. The car caught on fire somehow and she'd burned, her skin blistering just as Kay's had in her dreams.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"They're not as bad as they were."

"Time will do that," she gave me a half smile. Her own mom had died of cancer when she was thirteen. Thirteen. There was that damn number again.

"I guess. I'm really tired, Kay. Let's just get some sleep, okay?" I needed her to go back to sleep so I could think.

"Sure," she agreed and settled herself back down into the bed. "Are we going to talk to them tomorrow?" she yawned.

"No."

She sighed. "Are you sure?"

"Yup."

She rolled over. "Night, CJ."

"Night, MJ."

I lay there for a long time, listening as her breathing slowed and evened out into deep sleep. I hated to think Kay was lying to me too. She was my best friend, the one person I trusted more than anyone since Emily's death. It hurt to think she might be a part of all this, whatever this was. I slipped from the bed and grabbed a notebook and pen before ducking into my bathroom. No telling how long she would sleep and I needed to make sense of this. I started to write.

Things I learned from Emily's diary: