Chapter 25
25
Burn her.”
“You mean cremate?” asks the woman at the morgue.
“Yeah. That.”
She nods. “Would you like a last look at her before we start? A final farewell?”
Christ. I didn’t even know that was allowed. I shake my head, pushing the images of Chloe’s blue body out of my mind.
I don’t know if my twin wanted to be cremated. Maybe she wanted an open-casket funeral. That seems like something rich people do, preserving their legacy by injecting their corpses with formaldehyde and silicone. But I need to get rid of Chloe’s body completely, make sure every last trace of her is disposed of, so even if the authorities wanted to, they’d never be able to analyze her DNA against mine. As they say: no body, no crime.
Plus, I read how much a full-service funeral would cost. The casket alone is tens of thousands of dollars. Not to mention the burial site. It’s basically permanent New York real estate that you can’t sell. I’m rich now, but not that rich. With my aunt’s blackmail, I can’t squander a single cent.
Chloe will have to be happy with a cremation.
As I make my way out of the hospital morgue, I pass a sign that says Multifaith Prayer Room.
Was Chloe religious? The Van Huusens seem like the type to believe in Jesus and other religious bullshit. Maybe I should offer a prayer after stealing her life, appease her spirit.
The empty and dim room feels dry yet smells damp. There are four benches and a table holding a cross and some religious texts. I take a seat. The wood squeaks under my weight.
I close my eyes and bow my head. The ceiling lights hum softly as I clasp my hands in front of my chest.
What do I even say?
May you rest well, Chloe?
Please don’t haunt me as revenge?
Let this be the end of my suffering?
Let me start a new life? Be reborn?
Please, please, please help me God. Muhammad. Vishnu. Buddha. Zeus. Whoever’s listening. I swear I’m not picky. I’m just desperate. I’ll do good. Give to charity. Be a kind person. I’ll pray to you every day, once an hour. Anything! Please give me a sign.
A voice crackles in my ear.
“This is a Code Blue. I repeat, a Code Blue.”
I open my eyes and press my lips together. Unclasp my hands.
No God would listen to a sinner like me.