The Last Real Girl by L.C. Warman

Author:L.C. Warman [Warman, L.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781950103003
Publisher: Greenleaf and Plympton

Chapter 17

“Hiding something?” I repeated, as Aiden ducked down the hall and to the heavy white door that led to Charlotte’s room. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what. But I know my sister. She’s been…a little off. Even more than she should be with—well.” He pushed open the door, revealing Charlotte’s room beyond.

The room was wide and bright, with its own en suite bathroom. It was strange to see it in the slanting afternoon fall light, bed still made, homework still splayed out across the oak desk facing wide double-windows that looked over the lawn. It looked simultaneously like Charlotte had not stepped inside in years, and like Charlotte would return any moment, a fay entering some preserved dream.

But even as I looked, I noticed little details that were off: on second glance, the homework was not splayed across the desk, but arranged in neat little nonsensical stacks: binders on one side, notebooks on another, pens gathered together at the top of the desk. Her laptop was nowhere to be found. The curtains were drawn back all the way, which was never the case—Charlotte usually tucked the curtains just a foot or so open, enough for a view, not enough to send blazing light into the white, cream, and blue room. Her trash was all empty, no new bag, nothing, just gaping holes in the patterned metal tins that were arranged near her bed and beneath her desk.

“Yeah,” Aiden said, his eyes slicing right towards me. “You can tell, can’t you? Even though they cleaned it up.”

“Who…?” Chills raced up my spine.

“The police,” Aiden said. “Who did you think?”

“Oh, right. Police.” And then, “Why?”

“Well, in case of foul play.” His lips curled around the words, and I felt a stab of panic. The concept itself didn’t surprise me, but the idea that the police had already jumped there… Had they found something else, some other evidence out there, that night?

“What were they looking for?”

“Oh, they weren’t going to tell us. Suspects, and all. Relax,” he said, seeing my expression. “Everyone’s a suspect, right now.”

Which meant me as well. I felt another wave of heat go through me. It was fine—it was all going to be fine. Charlotte would turn up soon, anyway, and then all of this would go away. When Charlotte returned, unharmed and safe.

“Okay,” Aiden said, scanning the room. “You’re up. I looked before the police came, and I couldn’t find anything suspicious. But I’m guessing if there are any special places where Charlotte hides something…”

An image leaped into my mind, but I pressed my lips shut. “You’ll have to give me an idea of what I’m looking for.”

The silence stretched between us; we still hadn’t flicked a bedroom light on, and in the late afternoon the whole room took on an orange cast, shadows twisted and lengthened. When I glanced at Aiden, he seemed taller, stretched, like some ghoul or monstrous fairy. I took a step back and turned on the overhead light, sending fractured white light spilling across the room.

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