DON'T RUN by Molly Black

Author:Molly Black [Black, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Taylor chased Angie through a wide and open field, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep up with her.

Another dream, her mind told her. It's another dream. Just wake up!

But no matter how hard Taylor tried, it was like wading through quicksand. She had to catch Angie. She had to try.

"Angie, wait!" Taylor shouted. Surreal images surrounded her in the dream world. Taylor ran as fast as she could, but she couldn't get any closer to her sister. “Why are you doing this to me again!?”

Taylor's foot hit a rock, and she stumbled.

She knew that would happen.

It always did.

She fought the urge to just get up and walk away.

"Angie, please!" she begged. Her voice was hoarse, her throat sore from screaming. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The wind howled. The grass swayed. But it wasn't grass at all—it was something else, something Taylor couldn’t comprehend. Angie laughed, and Taylor wanted to cry.

"Please. I don't want to see this anymore. I'm so tired."

Tired?

Tired of what?

Tired of what, Taylor?

Tired of what…?

Taylor knew the answer, even if she didn't want to admit it.

She was tired of losing.

She was tired of being alone.

She was tired of always running.

She couldn't take it anymore…

Taylor awoke with a gasp. The familiar sight of her bedroom ceiling materialized before her. Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. It was all just a dream.

Just a dream, she reminded herself.

"Angie? Why are you doing this to me?" she asked in the darkness. The room was still and quiet; nothing moved except for the shadows. There was nothing there.

Nothing there.

Angie was gone. She was never coming back. Taylor had to accept that. But how could she, when she kept being teased by these dreams? By Belasco’s ominous predictions? She didn’t want to accept it. Maybe if there had ever been any evidence in the case to show what happened to Angie, it would be easier to accept. But there was nothing. No body. Not a drop of blood. Just a missing girl.

The television's glow shone from its position on the dresser. Taylor had fallen asleep with the news on. For a moment, she thought she saw Angie's face in the shadows, but it was just a trick of the light. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the scent of fresh, cool air that wafted in through the window.

Her clock on the nightstand read 4:04 a.m.

Last night, after her takeout, Taylor had locked herself in the basement for hours, trying to work angles on the case. She felt fairly confident in the profile she was building of the killer—but not confident on where to begin looking. Maybe they could go back to the botanist angle and see if there was anyone in that world that would fit who Taylor was looking for. But it might be like finding a needle in a haystack. Evil people didn't always wear their demons on their sleeves; they often hid in plain sight and finding a man with a closeted hatred of "fakeness" might not be so simple.

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