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“S o, she’s . . .” My words failed me. My tongue felt heavier in my mouth, thick and swollen, like I could choke on it. “She’s dead?”

“Yes. But they didn’t kill her, Rose. I know they didn’t,” she pleaded. “My brothers would never do something like that.”

“Then why do they have her things? Why did they have her purse? Why is her laptop on your dining table right now?” I demanded, anger lacing my tone.

“I—I don’t know. Please,” she whimpered, throwing her hands up to calm me. “I really don’t know. But I’m telling you, they didn’t kill her.”

Kill . It was such a strong word. Someone killed Eve.

“How do you know they didn’t kill her?” I asked, eyes misting as I focused on her.

“Because I was up that night when she invited them over for dinner. I . . . snuck over and saw them through the window. They were all having a good time, and I was a little jealous because I don’t get invited to hang out or do anything.

They had music playing. She even shared her ice cream with them, but they didn’t like it and laughed it off.

Then they started doing stuff ... you know?

Stuff that I couldn’t really watch for long because it just felt wrong and nasty.

But she was clearly liking what they were doing to her. ”

The threesome. Right. I nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“I sat by the lake for a while with my feet in the water. I was on the dock near Twilight Oaks. It was getting late,” she went on, wringing her fingers together.

“I heard Alex and Damian going home. I heard them laughing and had even heard Eve yell goodbye to them. It was quiet for a while and I knew they’d look for me soon, but I wasn’t ready to go home.

I wanted to rinse that scene away, of what they were doing with her.

Then I saw someone else pull up to Twilight Oaks. They were driving a red car.”

“Did you see what kind of car it was?” I asked.

“No. Just that it was red and looked really expensive.”

“Did you happen to see the person driving it?”

“Not really. I saw, like, a silhouette when I walked back to the main path. It was definitely a guy. I heard him knocking on the door as he called for her. I think she let him in because it got all quiet.” Rory’s face became pale, and her eyes bounced around, rehashing the details.

“But then I heard screaming. Eve was screaming. I went there so I could get a closer look and see what was going on. I saw her run out the back door to the top of the hill. The guy caught her, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her back into the house. She was beating on his back and screaming for him to put her down. I—I couldn’t really see his features.

But he was, like, average height maybe.” Rory’s throat bobbed as she shook her head.

“My phone rang, and Damian asked where I was. I went home after that, but I didn’t hear screaming anymore.

I figured they’d worked out whatever the problem was.

But the next day, Alex was supposed to clear up the house after Eve checked out and .

. . he found her body right there. Right in the living room.

I heard him rush back to the house and tell Damian and they both panicked. ”

“Shit,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. “So—w-what did he do? Where is her body now?”

“She’s—”

Rory’s bedroom door swung open. Alex appeared behind her just as she sucked in a sharp breath and twisted around.

“Alex,” she called.

Alex grimaced as he looked past her and right at me. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he barked.

“No! Alex, wait!” I heard Rory scream, but I was already running away.

I ran into the depths of the woods, trying to find the way back to my car but it was so dark, and it only got darker the deeper I went in.

“Rose! Get back here!” Alex hollered.

I veered to the right, refusing to stop until I made it to the safety of my vehicle. Instead, I was near Twilight Oaks. Way off track. The cottage was pitch black in the night, none of the lights were on inside or out.

“Damn it,” I hissed, just as I heard heavy footsteps closing in behind me.

I had two choices. One was to take the main path back and search for my car, but Alex would see me out in the open. He could catch me. I had no doubt he was much faster than me.

The other option was to keep running ahead. Make it to the other side of the lake and ask for help. There was Eddie and the Abbots. They could help me.

I booked it, launching myself forward, past Twilight Oaks. I ran so hard my lungs began to ache. I could hear Alex grunting behind me, shouting for me to stop.

I refused.

For all I knew, Rory had made that story up and her brothers had killed Eve. She could’ve lied about seeing Eve and some man afterward. But the red car . . . she’d seen the red car too, just like Lincoln had. That car had likely come by more than once.

Being so lost in thought caused me to trip up.

My foot snagged on a root, and I shrieked as I tumbled forward and slammed down on my knees.

My palms sank into the damp ground and leaves clung to my hands.

I shook them off and stood up, ready to run again.

Before I could, something clutched my hood and stopped me.

“Come here!” Alex yanked on my hood and hauled me backwards.

He pulled so hard I collapsed on my ass.

Then he stood above me, nostrils flaring.

Streaks of moonlight streamed through the towering trees and the shadows made his face look like a demon’s.

The sharpness of his cheekbones, the dark furrow beneath his blond brows making it hard to see his eyes—it was terrifying.

My heart slammed in my chest as I slid back on one hand. With my other, I snatched my gun out of the holster and pointed it at him. I could see his eyes now, big, blue, and round.

“If you don’t get away from me, I’ll shoot you!” I yelled.

“You wouldn’t shoot,” he said. He hadn’t backed up, but he hadn’t moved forward either.

I pressed down on the safety. “I swear to God I will.”

He breathed raggedly through flared nostrils, throwing his hands up. I used that moment to push myself to a stand but kept the gun pointed at him.

“I don’t know what you did to Eve, but you’re not getting away with it.”

“I didn’t do shit to her!” he bit back.

“That’s a lie. You slept with her!”

Alex blinked. “She wanted that! She told us that was what she wanted! Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t believe this shit is happening again!”

“And then you killed her, right? You took all her things and you’ve hidden her body.” I applied a little pressure to the trigger. “Where the hell is she, Alex?”

“You’re so wrong about all of this. So fucking wrong,” he grumbled, then he lunged forward and tried to grab my gun.

So, I pulled the trigger.

Eve Castillo journal entry

My therapist explained why I might be allowing the people who’ve wronged me back into my life so easily. I was groomed to be this way. When Pa abused us, he would also reward us the next day.

Whenever he was too harsh on a Saturday, that Sunday he’d be in a much better mood.

Smiling. Laughing. Hugging us. Kissing our foreheads.

He’d bring home treats—cookies, ice cream, donuts, Popsicles.

When he brought them, he’d tell us that he was thinking about us and he loved us so much he wanted to bring us something special.

Then two or three days later, he’d be at it again.

Shouting.

Hitting.

Punishing.

It was an ongoing cycle. It’s probably bad to admit this, but I was ready for the punishments to happen just so he could love us again the next day. For a while, I assumed he felt guilty for hurting us. I’m not quite sure that was ever the case though.

He would do different things, like take us to amusement parks. Drive us to the mountains for hikes. Take us to the mall and let us shop for whatever we wanted. He’d also take us to the movies and buy us popcorn, slushies, and all the candy we wanted.

It’s like he wanted us to think he wasn’t that bad of a person. He wanted us to think he was a good man with flaws. Someone we should understand and accept because he was human, and humans made mistakes.

But good people don’t accidentally break your arm.

Or accidentally hit you in the face.

Or force you to take freezing-cold showers because you spent too much time taking a warm one the night before.

Good people don’t mock you when you start your period. They don’t look at you and say, “Look at that. You’re a woman now,” just to follow it up with, “Shut the hell up, little girl. You don’t know shit,” the next hour.

Goodness was never within him. I realize now the rewards were just another form of control.

My therapist thinks I accepted Lincoln again because he rewarded me with the funnel cakes and kettle corn.

He treated me to a nice night out after hurting me badly.

He wasn’t doing it for my sake, but for his.

He needed that cycle to continue, just to prove to himself that he could be a good person.

It’s a shame I’ve been subconsciously accustomed to it. Now the same is happening with Victor. And I have to admit, out of all the men I’ve encountered in my life, Victor’s anger scares me the most.