Page 25 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

Patty was puny, weak. Greta could break her. Patty clawed at
Greta’s arm, pushed at her face. She was nothing at all.
“Greta.” Ash wrenched her away. Patty gasped for air and
slumped against the wall.
“She…” Greta couldn’t say more.
“Just come. Come out of here.” Darkness had overtaken
the room now. Ash put an arm around her shoulder and
pulled her away. His eyes shone round, black, like a crow’s.

The candle still burned on its side, drops of red wax hard-
ening on the plate. A grotesque holiday craft.
Greta broke free to snatch the box off the vanity before
letting Ash guide her to the door. She couldn’t look back, not
at any of it. The burned ashes of Before Mother, another life.
Patty, pathetic and wheezing.
Ash led Greta to her room and shut the door. She fell on

the bed, vomit working up her throat, tears scalding her face.
The feeling of Patty’s tiny bones still pressed into her arm.
Pointing at the box, Greta tried to speak, but Ash said, “Shh.
Not now.” He sat near her feet. She wanted to check the box
but found she couldn’t move. What if there were no more
photos? Would she kill Patty in cold blood?
They sat for half an hour, until the furniture turned to
darkened shapes around them. Only the sound of their
breathing. Outside her bedroom, not even a creak of the

floor. Now she felt the steady draft from the window above
her. Rolled in her blanket, Greta concentrated on breathing
in and out. Then she found her voice to tell Ash what
had happened.

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