Chapter 45
Grandma was sitting ramrod straight on the side of the bed when Anna took the glass of water in. She raised her chin, her eyes glittering, sharp.
“I heard what you said. You lied to your mother about the police being here. You made her think I was confused.”
Grandma’s clear gaze didn’t flinch and in the end, Anna’s shoulders slumped. Great. Another thing to feel guilty about. “I’m sorry. But it’s something I didn’t want her to know. Not yet.”
“Lying is never the way. It’s a sin.” Her mouth pursed. “And it was a cruel lie.”
“I’m sorry.” She was always sorry. Sorry, stupid Anna. “I’ll tell her the truth tomorrow. I promise.” And that was another lie. Mom would lose her shit about the blood in the basement, and until there was some answer about whose it was, there was no way Anna was going to talk to Mom about it.
“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,” Grandma said with a sigh, and her eyes glistened with tears.
She began to shake and clasped one hand over her mouth as if holding back a sob.
“We need to be good with God, Anna. He’s all that can save us.
” She looked up. “My head is too full. Is it in your head now too? You said you’d let it in. ”
“Is what in my head?” Anna sat on the bed beside her. Was Grandma having one of her funny turns? “You okay?”
“Oh, Anna,” Grandma said, suddenly pressing her hands tightly against Anna’s face, holding it close to her own.
“We should pray. His will be done.” Her skin smelled of lavender, her breath stale.
It was a nauseating mix. She was dropping in and out of her weird Alzheimer’s activity or whatever it was, switching between normal and not in an instant.
And voices in her head? Was this some kind of psychotic break?
Or ghosts, Anna thought. Unable to leave.
Dead girls haunting Grandma from the inside.
They say a girl died here. It was crazy, but it made her shiver all the same.
Grandma pressed her forehead to Anna’s, her paper-fragile skin against Anna’s taut firmness as outside a night owl screeched over its prey. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and took a long breath before she spoke again.
“One day I will save you even if it kills me,” she whispered, her breath damp and cool and desperate against Anna’s cheek. “I swear it.”