Chapter 19
Oh God, oh God, please, Mara, don't tell Phoebe.
I don't know how she's gone this long without saying anything. She knows. About me and Aiden.
She saw my location at his apartment, except Phoebe wasn't there with me. It was obvious enough for her to put two and two together. Everything is caving in.
It's too much.
I drop to my knees, sobbing into my hands. The shame burns, hot and ugly. I hate that we're fighting, but I hate even more that I'm just as upset about my missing jewelry. It makes me look selfish, and maybe I am.
A hand grazes my back, gentle and soothing. If it's Phoebe's, I might actually die.
"It'll be okay," she says.
And dammit. It is Phoebe. She's too kind. Too trusting. And I betrayed her.
Why did I do this to her?
"Let's go home," Mara suggests. She's right. I feel a looming presence watching over us, like we shouldn't be here. But I can't leave without seeing that murder scene.
"Once we talk to the police, I think we should go home, too," Phoebe says.
"We can't." I swipe at my nose, still on the floor. "We're right there. The cabin is right there. I'm going tomorrow, with or without you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm putting on pajamas and trying to get some sleep."
Sleep. That was wishful thinking.
If it weren't for the heater kicking on like it's possessed, I'd be convinced we lost power again. I wake up over and over, heart pounding, every creak of the floorboards or rustling of the sheets sending a fresh jolt through my system.
The outside branches claw at the siding of the cabin. It could be the wind—should be the wind—but the sound feels intentional. Like someone's out there itching to come in.
I checked the door lock three times before morning. And still, I don't feel safe.
Mara stretches her arms overhead, then peeks through the crack in the curtains—probably already thinking about hitting the road.
"I'm going to that cabin," I announce to a room full of disbelievers. "Just watch me."
To prove it, I throw back the covers and start layering on clothes.
"Sabrina, nothing up there is going to make this trip worth it," Mara warns.
"You'd think someone died," I mutter. "All that happened was some creepy message from an old guy and we got robbed."
"Oh, and now I probably have to file a claim with your insurance on your behalf because you thought it was smart to bring actual precious stones on a weekend trip!"
"Might I remind you my laptop was stolen too? Mara, nothing of yours is missing?"
Phoebe looks to Mara like maybe the secrets are still being withheld, but Mara appears perplexed.
"Not that I noticed. I even checked the car keys. They're still right where we left them." Mara gestures toward my jacket, hanging on the back of a chair, the keys tucked inside my pocket.
"Well, hallelujah," I sing, finishing up with my boots and ready to go. "I'm gonna drive myself over. Anyone care to join? It is Christmas Eve, after all."