The Last Time by Sharon Haste

Author:Sharon Haste [Haste, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2017-10-28T23:53:49+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Charli stares at a stranger's reflection. A blonde bob frames a face hidden beneath a thick layer of camouflage: her skin is lightened, her eyes are rimmed with dark kohl, and her cheeks and lips are contoured with deep rose. She looks ten years older; her reflection has shed the schoolgirl image. Her body is buried beneath a straight black dress falling mid-calf. Contact lenses give her brilliant blue eyes beneath tweezed brows and false lashes. She touches her hair, relieved that Jael had found a wig rather than cutting her tresses. She runs her hands over the dress and looks down at her plain, black, court shoes. She can't believe the transformation. She swings this way and that, trying to find herself in the costume. She places a pair of stylish sunglasses over her nose and turns to Jael and Tobi with a well of gratitude in her heart. They've done very well for boys. Who knew they had it in them?

'Well?' she asks, her nerves tingling.

'Awesome,' Tobi says. 'You look so different.'

Jael whistles, making her cheeks flame. 'Shall we go?' Jael asks, holding out his arm. Charli grabs a black purse and takes his arm, stumbling as her nerves get the better of her.

She stands on the periphery of the crowd, overwhelmed by the volume of people swelling across the grass and wired by a floating anxiety that refuses to settle. She didn't dare go to the church, but she thinks out in the open, under the swaying trees of the cemetery, there's a better chance of blending in. Her heart's a stone in her chest, but there's something else, a nagging deep in her gut that's she's never felt before. It's probably just a feeling, but she can't shake it. Fear has a grip on her so tight that she feels sick.

I've made a mistake. The boys are right; I shouldn't be here. The place is crawling with cops. What was I thinking? Her thoughts scatter. People press her from all sides. Jael's arm is around her shoulders; his body is hot against her. Above the throng, an elderly man speaks, his humble words silencing the crowd.

Sweat builds in her armpits and torso as the darkness swallows her. Bodies stand too close, increasing the temperature and stealing her air. Her heart fights, beating with fury as the shadows rise. Her fear swells to match them, intensifying and heightening her senses. She gasps for breath, panicking as the blackness claims her. Jael's face is the last thing she remembers as the victorious dark sweeps the ground from beneath her, and she starts to fall.

Charli wakes to a sea of faces. Her eyes are wide as they jump from face to face. She feels something plucking at her. Jael. She strains to catch his words, but she's so tired. Her limbs are like lead. Her eyes close, and his words penetrate the fog: 'Get up.' Someone shouts her name, and then the memories flood back. Oh my God, the funeral.

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