“You want…?”
“Kill me,” she said. “I’d do it myself, but I don’t believe in suicide.” A bit of a strange sentence coming from a murderer without a pulse.
From beneath the material of her dress, Molly pulled out a piece of wood with a sharpened end. “I whittled it myself,” she admitted. “I don’t know why. Maybe to use it on him or the girls or myself. I can’t even remember.”
My hands began to shake. “Are you sure about this?”
“There’s no hope for me. All I can hope for now is God’s forgiveness.”
I looked over my shoulder and called, “Max?”
“No,” Molly said urgently, and then forced the stake into my hand. She wrapped my fingers around the piece of wood tightly. “It has to be you. I want my last moments to be just like his.”
Owen’s.
This wasn’t about anything between the two of us. It was about leaving this earth as closely to Owen as she could. Maybe it made her feel more connected to him, I don’t know. But who was I to deny it?
She kidnapped me, fed from me, tried to kill me and everyone I cared about, and yet…I wasn’t angry. I pitied her. I realized that I would live a life filled with love and friendship and all the joys of growing old and experiencing life. She wouldn’t, and she never had. Molly would bleed out in a basement during the cold of night, and if her last morbid wish brought her closer to her brother, then I would do what she requested.
Molly lifted my hand that carried the stake and guided it to her chest. The pointed end pressed at the flesh above her heart, and just before I pushed, she smiled.
Chapter Forty-Nine
DANA
We separated from the group—Melanie’s idea, not mine—and headed toward the countryside in a rental car. Everyone else was asleep at the hotel, and in the middle of the night, Melanie woke me up and insisted I had to come with her and that what she needed to do had to be done at that very second.
It was Melanie, so I agreed without hesitation.
We drove for an hour, and when we reached a dirt road, she parked the car and got out. I followed her up the track and into a rural neighborhood with nice two-story houses and big yards with picket fences. It was still the early morning hours, so everyone was asleep and the area was deathly silent.
Once we were on the sidewalk and in front of a house, Melanie stopped. She stared in through the window, not saying a word.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
With a nod, she answered, “This is my parents’ house.”
“Oh, my god.”
I was suddenly taking in the house’s exterior in a more detailed way. It was white with gray shutters, and the kitchen light was still on.
“They think I’m dead,” she whispered. “They didn’t have a big funeral, just a spreading of my ashes by a tree. Cora said, in the spot they put them, they planted lilies.” Melanie sighed. “I hate lilies.”
I saw movement through one of the lit windows. “They’re still awake,” I said, surprised.
Melanie didn’t look nor sound surprised. “My mom never sleeps when she’s depressed.” Her voice wasn’t sad, it was broken. “I guess that fight we had about me thinking she didn’t love me anymore was stupid.” Her chin dropped low, and she shook her head. “I really didn’t deserve them.”
“You know that’s not true.”
Melanie had no reply.
“Are you going to go in and see them?” I asked.
Calmly, she shook her head and said, “No.”
“Why not? They need you.”
“Do they, though?” she asked as she looked over at me. “Look what knowing about this world has done to Cora, and to me. If I go inside, that means I have to tell them everything. About what I am, what you are, about what else might be out there. They’ll be dragged into this mess, and that’s exactly what got me killed. I could never do that to them. I’m not the most selfless person, but even I know better.”
She was selfless, she just wouldn’t admit it.
I heavily sighed. “I won’t try to talk you out of it. I did something similar. My parents don’t think I’m dead, but I may as well be.”
Melanie stared through the window, her mind lingering on her decision. “I am doing the right thing, right?”
I nodded. “They’re hurting now, but they’ll get better. They’ll move on.”
“Is it sad that that’s what I’m afraid of? That they’ll move on and forget about me?”
“They could never forget about you. That much I’m certain about.”
Just for me, she tried to squeeze out a smile.
“I’m more worried about you,” I breathed. “They might be able to move on, but what about you? Can you?”
“I have literally all of eternity. I’ll get there.”
“But your parents have each other to get through this. Are you gonna be okay to do this on your own?”
Something in her expression softened. The sadness in her eyes was still there but not as powerful. “I won’t be alone,” she said. I felt her fingers wind around mine, and bring my palm up against hers and then squeeze. It wasn’t a dream, Melanie was really holding my hand tightly.
My voice broke. “You mean it?”
“You and Cora are the only people who ever really fought for me. She’s my family, so I get it, but you…you saw who I was without me even having to say a word. You get me in a way that no one else does. Or ever has.”
“A part of me feels
