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I was going to die.

I should’ve known it from the first night I spent in Twilight Oaks. I sensed something was off. I knew something had happened to Eve. There was a gut feeling and it’s never wrong. But, still, I stayed. Like a fool I stayed.

Perhaps Victor was right. Maybe I did have some kind of death wish. Perhaps I did hate my life. Maybe, subconsciously, this was the result I wanted. I have felt nothing but unfulfilled since I saw Cole and Eve that day.

I’ve felt empty, like there’s a gaping hole in my chest that grows bigger every day. Sure, my family and friends keep me somewhat centered, but some days it doesn’t feel like enough. Some days, I just want to quit and run off, start a new life. Forget about the past and all my worries.

Victor’s grip tightened on the back of my neck as I thrashed, trying to come up for air. Water filled my nose and mouth. My eyes burned with each panicked blink. No. Dying wasn’t what I wanted. Not by a long shot.

I threw back an arm, trying to swing at him, but he held on tighter, shoving me deeper.

I could hear my heartbeat slowing in rhythm. My gasps and moans catching in my chest.

And then I heard a voice.

A familiar whisper.

I’m here, Rose.

Eve.

A muffled pop sounded off. Victor’s hand slipped from the back of my neck, and I jerked my head out of the water, gasping for as much breath as possible. I pressed on my hands and knees, sucking in oxygen as I tried to orient myself.

Then, to my left, I saw Victor’s body. He was face down, bleeding from the shoulder blade and wincing.

His eyes were wide as he stared at me. A short distance away, holding a shotgun aimed in Victor’s previous direction, was Griffin Abbot.

Behind him was Selma Abbot, whose eyes were wide and panicked.

Griffin’s nostrils flared as he swung the barrel of the gun to Victor again.

In the distance, Rory stood, and Alex approached with a heavy limp. Rory turned to him, throwing her face into his chest. His thigh was bleeding too, from where I’d shot him. I instantly regretted it.

I fell down beside Victor, shivering.

“Lower the weapon!” Kennedy’s voice blared in the distance. I heard something thud on the ground and Griffin’s deep voice telling her that he was only helping.

I’m not sure how much time passed before I heard Kennedy read off Victor’s Miranda rights while yanking his arms back to cuff him. He was still staring at me, an absent look in his eyes.

“You should be thanking me,” Victor rasped, ignoring Kennedy. Water was in my ears, so his voice was muffled, but I understood. “She’s dead. She was always your burden and now that burden is gone.” He said all this with a sneer.

Kennedy hauled him up just as another deputy appeared.

She handed Victor over to him with a firm set of instructions, and when another cop showed up, Kennedy pointed at Alex and said something.

The deputy hesitated before walking to Alex and, reluctantly, grabbing his upper arm and leading him away from the scene.

I was surprised Alex didn’t resist, or protest, at least.

Kennedy started back my way. I turned my head to look up. The sky was velvet blue and splattered with stars. The trees hovered, towering like skyscrapers. It all swirled into one big starlit mosaic.

Then I saw someone standing above me, wearing the same brown hoodie she’d worn in the camera footage from Flip Stack’s.

She smiled at me before lowering to one knee.

Her eyes were rimmed with tears. She touched my face, rubbed my cheek.

It was now I noticed the transparency of her skin. The slight glow to it.

She whispered, I’m so sorry, Rose.

“Rose?” Kennedy called. Her voice was faint as she pressed a hand to my neck to check my pulse. I glanced at her. She was a blur. “You’re okay, Rose. I’m right here.”

I looked to my right again. Eve was still there.

Her tears had fallen. She grabbed my hand while it rested on my stomach and gave it a squeeze.

It was most likely my imagination that Eve was there, giving me what felt like her final goodbye.

I wondered if all this time she’d been whispering to me and pointing me in the right direction because she knew I’d never give up.

I’m so sorry , she whispered again.

Believe it or not, despite the mess she’d created and the hurt that still lingered in my chest, I forgave her.

“It’s okay,” I mumbled.

The last thing I remember is smiling before closing my eyes and drifting out of consciousness.

Eve Castillo journal entry

Here’s something people are aware of but will never fully accept.

Hurt people really do hurt other people.

It’s the biggest fucking cliché but it’s one hundred percent true.

We hurt others because the pain inside us runs so deep and throbs so hard that it’s impossible to ignore.

No amount of therapy, of traveling, of journaling, of reading self-help books, or any of that worldly bullshit will help.

Because once you realize no one will apologize for the way they treated you, you build resentment.

Anger. Envy. You want others to feel that too, just so they can understand you a little more.

All so you can say, “Do you feel that? The crack forming in your heart? Yeah, well, it’s only going to get bigger as the days pass and there isn’t shit you can do about it. ”

I wish I wasn’t the kind of person to hurt.

I wish I had a good heart like Rose, like Zoey.

I wish I was a good person who was okay living life at bare minimum.

I can’t blame anyone for my actions. I’m responsible for anything that comes my way.

Like Pa, I do bad things. I try to reward men with my body, my words, my smile, but eventually it doesn’t work anymore, and I’m caught up in a web.

All I know is no matter how hard Karma hits me, I’m ready for her.

Whatever she gives me, I’ll probably deserve it.