Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
PAST
The wind tapped at the windowpane again.
Tap. Tap. Not like a knock, more like a solid whisper.
Rachel sat on the edge of the bed in her old gray sweater. The one that hung off one shoulder. “Ready?”
Zoe nodded, curling her knees up her chest, her toes chilly in her socks.
Rachel turned a page, though she never looked down at the words. “Once upon a time,” she began, her voice low and dry, “there was a garden that grew in the middle of nowhere.”
Zoe swallowed. “Was it a happy garden?”
Rachel’s lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. “It used to be. There were flowers and fruit and little bluebirds that sang until the sky turned pink at night. But one day, a viper slithered into the garden. Not loud. Not fast. Just… there.”
Zoe pulled the blanket tighter.
“The viper was beautiful,” Rachel said, her voice almost haunting. “Emerald scales. Eyes like gold. It didn’t bite anyone, not at first. It just watched.”
Zoe’s throat ran dry. She decided then and there that she didn’t like snakes. “Did they chase it away?”
“No, because they thought it was lonely. They thought maybe it needed love. But vipers don’t want love. Vipers want silence. Vipers want obedience. Vipers want you to stop breathing.”
Zoe’s heart knocked against her ribs as she registered the almost wistful look on Rachel’s face.
She looked at her then. Her eyes were dark, tired. So tired they looked like they were full of rain.“Zoe, do you know what vipers do to the people who get close to them?”
She shook her head slowly. Even though she didn’t like being called Zoe. Her name was Emily. But Rachel had said she had a new name now. A better name.
“They wrap around them,” Rachel said, sliding her hand over her own wrist, “and squeeze until the person can’t tell if they’re being held…
or strangled.” She turned the page, and Zoe noticed there was actually no writing.
“There was a girl in the garden. She was quiet. Smart. Thought if she just stayed still, the viper wouldn’t notice her. But vipers always notice.”
Zoe looked down at her fingers, curled tight in the blanket. “Did the girl die?”
Rachel didn’t reply. Not right away. “No… but she came close. And when she got away, no one believed there had ever been a viper. They said the garden was beautiful. That she must’ve dreamed the rest.”
“That’s mean,” Zoe whispered.
“That’s the world, baby,” Rachel said, her lips a thin line. “It doesn’t matter how loud you scream if no one wants to hear.”
Outside, the wind pushed harder against the window. Somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaked, slow and deliberate. Rachel strained to hear but Gina was still sleeping in her nursery down the hall.
“Sometimes,” Rachel said, her voice colder. “A viper follows you home. It hides in the walls. It waits. But it still hisses in the dark.”
Zoe didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “Mom… is the viper real?”
Rachel turned to her, and her hand found Zoe’s cheek. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Listen to me now, and don’t ever forget what I tell you. If anything ever happens to me—anything at all—you tell them it was an accident. That I slipped. That I drowned. That I didn’t mean it.”
This again. Zoe blinked fast. “Why?”
“Because they won’t believe you if you tell the truth. And worse, they’ll make sure the viper hears it and the viper might come after you too… Do you promise, Zoe?”
It was the same routine every night. Every night after telling her a story, Rachel would make her promise the same thing. Zoe didn’t like it. The first time she heard it, she’d burst into tears. But now the words were so engrained in her, the promise was a part of her blood.
“I promise.”