Blood Sky by S. Massery

Author:S. Massery [Massery, S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S. Massery

Part II

19

DELIA

I stand in the house I grew up in and wonder how I ever fit inside it. It’s familiar—the same hardwood floors, the same wallpaper on the walls of the foyer. The smell is different, though: chemicals layered on top of death.

On my way inside, I avoid looking at the living room. The doors are closed, thankfully, but I don’t know whether the bloodstains have been cut out of the carpet. Ghosts dance around me, inhabiting this space that I’ve left empty for too long.

My family has filtered in behind me. Alexa and her husband, Oliver, her sisters, Kaitlyn and Sorellina. Lauren and a few of her siblings. We’ve suddenly become the oldest in the family.

I clear my throat. “I can only bear to tell this story once. Now is not the time.” Part of me is still saving the story for Jackson. He deserves to know as much as my family does. I still can’t quite breathe without him near me. I thought the distance would make it easier, but it’s been the opposite. I feel the distance tugging at me. I order, “Leave me.”

They filter out without question, and a rush of exhilaration nearly knocks me on my butt.

“Delia?” Lauren says. “Do you want to be alone?”

I turn toward her and force myself to smile. “Not all alone,” I clarify, holding out my hand to her.

She takes a few steps forward and grasps my hand, threading her fingers through mine.

“I missed you.” Her gaze moves toward the living room door and away. “Oliver and Alexa were the ones who found…”

I shake my head sharply and pull her toward the kitchen. The ghosts are quieter in here. “I ran to survive,” I tell her softly. “Otherwise I would be as dead as them.”

“We buried your father. Margaret’s will said she wanted to be cremated. Your uncles were also buried in the family plot.” She sucks her lower lip into her mouth. “I thought you’d want to know. All the paperwork for it is on the desk upstairs.”

I notice that she distances herself from her own father. He was murdered in front of my eyes, and yet she’s the one who can’t bear to think of him. Dead. Alive. He’s just dust, swept away. I vow that the same won’t happen to my father.

“Who organized the funerals?” I ask.

“James.” Lauren smiles. “He’s been a godsend, you know. Picking up the pieces…”

The pieces you let fall, she doesn’t say.

It only took two weeks for Lauren’s thorns to grow. Her barbs sting.

Still, I smile at her and open the refrigerator. “James is at work?” I stare at the chilled butter dish and empty pitcher of water. Otherwise, the shelves are bare. Who chills butter? I pull back and close the door, turning to Lauren. “He is still practicing law, I’m assuming.”

Drained bank accounts. Broken promises. He is a traitor, if only I can prove it. It’s a mystery that I’m able to talk about him with a straight face. I almost break, myself.

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