Page 38 of Where Daisies Breathe (Star Meadows #2)

CLOVER

I can hear the party in the distance. If I can just keep running—if I can just make it there to the park where everyone is—maybe I can survive. But the drugs are kicking in, and my brain is fogging over. Footsteps are chasing after me.

“Clover!” They shout as branches snap.

I feel sick to my stomach as I push through more branches that claw at my skin.

I grasp onto my daisy clutch tighter as my fingers are threatened with numbness.

I can’t lose this. Everything that I’ve found out about Zoey’s death is in this clutch, all of the answers.

I found the final piece tonight when I was with him.

I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve waited to stick that photo in my clutch. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been caught.

Then again, I think they’ve been on to me for a while.

My death has been hovering over me in a gloomy cloud threatening me with the scent of a rainstorm.

I quicken my pace as the glow of the fire in the middle of the park comes into my view. But as I near it, breaking through the border of the trees, I spot another man who’s been hunting me looming at the edge of crowd standing around the fire.

I wish I could see Ava or Ellis somewhere—they’re the only people I trust these days. But they’re nowhere to be seen.

I veer right to avoid running into him. He’s wearing a hoodie with the hood drawn over his head, but I know it’s him.

I sprint across the grass and weave around the trees, and then the parking lot comes into view. My heart leaps in my chest as I spot Ellis’ car. He typically leaves it unlocked so I can at least hide in there with the doors locked until I can figure something else out.

But then I see something else that makes my heart sink.

Another one of them is striding across the parking lot.

I’m so fucked—I know I am. And if I weren’t so doped up, I’d probably cry. Maybe. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything.

With them coming at me from all directions, I do the only thing I can and rush into the bathroom, hoping to god someone is in there that has a phone. But it’s fucking empty.

I’m so fucking screwed.

I spin around and run out, heading into a cluster of trees in front of me.

“Clover,” one of them says from close by. “Give us what you took, and we’ll let you go.”

Tears drip from my eyes as I dig in the dirt that’s dotted with daisies. Once the hole is deep enough, I drop the clutch into it and bury it. It’s my proof, and while I’m about to die, I’m not allowing it to die with me. Maybe someone will find it one day—it’s all I can hope for at this point.

Right as I get it buried, a hand wraps around my ankle, and I’m jerked back into the darkness.