Until the Day I Die: A Novel by Emily Carpenter

Author:Emily Carpenter [Carpenter, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-11T16:00:00+00:00

27

ERIN

As we hike back to the campsite, the setting sun turns the scattered clouds into cotton candy shades of pink and orange and purple and blue, but I can’t even take a moment to admire the spectacular sight. The blue plastic bread tie is tucked safely into my bra, and the puzzle pieces in my brain have begun to arrange themselves into a frightful order.

If the bread tie is the same one Agnes put in her hair, that means Lach lied to us when he said she made it back to the resort and was sent home. It means she’s still somewhere on the island. I wonder if that’s what he meant by what he said on the phone: she’s waiting at the river.

On the other hand, the tie could be just a bit of random garbage from a group of picnickers who’d trekked out here to spend a day at the waterfall. Or a makeshift hair tie used by another woman on another L’Élu.

The bone I can’t begin to explain. It can’t have come from Agnes. Even if she got lost or drowned or something, bodies don’t decompose that fast. Unless, of course, an animal got to it. One of the many creatures of prey who live in this jungle.

I shake off the thought. Obviously Agnes isn’t dead. I’m just being dramatic, letting things get to me. Despite the L’Élu being less extreme physically than I’d anticipated, being out in the jungle, with these women, with this weird guy, was clearly messing with my mind.

On our way back to camp, there are a couple of times—once on a muddy hillside and again over a stretch of precarious boulders—when I stumble, and Lach offers his hand to help me along. His hand is strong and warm and rough, and both times it feels like he holds on to me longer than necessary.

Deirdre’s back stiffens every time he touches me, her face set in a look of supreme annoyance. But what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t control what the guy does, and I’m not going to waste my time trying to appease a grown woman who wants to play petty high school mean-girl games. I have more important things to think about.

After we’ve eaten dinner, tidied up the picnic table, and settled around the fire, I see Lach reach into a cooler and pull out a bottle of beer. As he ambles back to the fire, I roll my eyes.

“I thought this was supposed to be a rehab,” I say.

“Do you have a drinking problem, Erin?”

“No. But I heard there have been accidents up here. Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“There’s not going to be any accidents,” he says. “And Deirdre’s okay with it. It’s only Jessalyn here with the problem. But she has to go back to the real world at the end of the month, don’t you? Can’t expect to be treated with kid gloves then.”

Jessalyn shoots him a nasty look. “I never asked for special treatment. You do what you want.

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