Charming by Krystal Wade

Author:Krystal Wade [Wade, Krystal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, thriller, love, suspense, mystery, young adult, serial killer, dark, cinderella
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

ick up. Pick up. Pick up.”

She’d already tried Niles without getting through, and now Chris’s phone rang and rang and rang. Haley wanted to pull him aside and spill every secret locked inside her soul. At least he’d be able to protect his family. If the psycho framed Haley? Fine. She’d live. Right? She survived Mom’s death.

A sob rumbled from her chest as the call went into voicemail. Haley didn’t think she could survive Joce’s, Dad’s, or Niles’s death, because Haley hadn’t actually survived Mom’s.

But, still, this was the right thing to do.

Haley dialed again, breaking a pen in half while waiting. She left the blue ink stain on the table. Who cares? One ring, two, three…

“Hello?”

“Chris, we need to talk.”

“I can’t right now.” He sounded distant, cold, disinterested—and like he had company. A girl giggled in the background, then asked who he was talking to. “Jessica, give me a minute, will you?”

He was with a girl—a girl who giggled and knew him well enough to ask who was talking to. His family, hers, everyone would suffer because Chris didn’t really like Haley.

“Okay. Call—”

The girl announced “minute’s up”, and Chris sighed. “Seriously, Jessica.”

The phone went dead.

What the hell? Maybe she should go to his house? Pound on the door. Demand to be let in?

Haley called again, like any good stalker girlfriend, like the scum of the earth Joce considered Christine, not appropriate for the bottom of a bum’s shoe. That’s how Chris acted, like Haley meant nothing to him.

Voicemail. “Look, not trying to be nutso girl here, but seriously have to talk to you. Life. Death. Lifetime of misery kind of talk. No, I’m not pregnant. Just in case you’re wondering, like the rest of the town.”

Giving up on truth for now, Haley searched Dad’s room for a written combination to his gun safe, because lord knows the drunk probably couldn’t remember a string of numbers over one and had to write them down. She located several combinations in the top drawer of his nightstand, then ran to the closet, where he and Mom had kept weapons in the old house, though Mom hated them.

Haley yanked open the door and waterworks assaulted her eyes, waterworks she had no chance of controlling. “Oh, God.”

All Mom’s suits were hanging, color coordinated how they’d been in her old closet, shoes lined up along the back wall. Why did Dad keep everything? Why did he place things in here as if she weren’t really gone? As if she were on a trip and would be home soon?

Haley touched some of the suits Mom had worn to work. When she died, Haley spent a month, two months, maybe three, walking around in a vegetative state. She figured Dad gave everything away when he furiously packed boxes and moved houses while she and Joce were away at school. He took care of everything, bought this new place and locked up the old one, stuck a for sale sign in the yard without ever giving the girls an opportunity to be a part of it.

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