get rid of the monster, but I don’t think it will go away because it followed us here. I should have told her that the monster only follows me.”
Another jolt, but this one angry … deadly. “What do you mean the monster followed you?”
“At our old house. The monster was there, too. Right before we moved. It followed us.”
“Sawyer?” Sylvia says from the doorway. “Your front door was open so I let myself in. Is everything okay?”
Sunday October 6: I’m pretty mad tonight, Diary. I got the lecture of my young life from my esteemed friend Morris. Jiminy, I was surprised tho. Of course, I deserved it but then we do not always like to hear the truth.
He made me feel about as big as . that. Listen, Diary, I don’t think he gives a snap about me. But gee, I’m not going to worry. If he doesn’t, he needn’t. I don’t see why he keeps coming over if he doesn’t like me. Temp 99.4. Got medicine.
It’s like I’m walking in a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare.
The house.
It feels wrong. Like the walls aren’t drywall and support beams, but instead flesh and blood. That I’m somehow not in a building, but a body that inhales, exhales and consumes. I feel swallowed up and digested, and I was more than willing to send my sister out the door with the prayer that she stay out.
Ghosts.
Monsters.
Veronica collapsing in pain.
My lungs twist as I climb the stairs. The door to Veronica’s part of the house is ajar. Her father isn’t home. She had said he had a load he had to take to Indiana, and he left early this morning. Even if I called him, there’s nothing he could do besides drive back. Even if he was here, what would he do?
I consider walking in, but don’t. What did Veronica say about why she knocks? Because one should always be concerned about who they are letting into the house—it could be death.
My brain niggles at me. She’s the one who wants to be invited in. My head falls back with the pain of realization. She believes she’s death.
I knock. A gentle sound, but it echoes along the empty foyer. Kravitz opens the door a few more inches and he takes up that small space. Multicolored Mohawk and stone-cold eyes behind thick, black-rimmed glasses. A fighter’s build with a bored stance. “What?”
“I’m here to see Veronica.”
“She’s sleeping.”
Good. “I still want to see her.”
“She doesn’t need you.”
He’s probably right. “I need to see her.” What do I say to him to help him understand I don’t mean her any harm? What do I say as I don’t understand a damn thing happening with Veronica at all? “How bad is her tumor?”
His posture changes, like he took on some of the burden and pain weighing me down.
“I care about her,” I continue in a low voice, “but what I saw today scared the hell out of me, and I need to understand what’s going on.”
He glances away then rolls his neck like he’s frustrated. “If you’re worried about your project, she’ll be fine. Just give her a few days and she’ll be back to doing your work for you.”
“I don’t care about the project. I care about her. I either get answers from you or I get answers from her dad.”
“He’s on the road.”
“He has a phone, and I have the number.”
Nazareth opens the door the rest of the way and I enter. The room is bright with every possible light on, but it feels strained. As if it’s fighting against the darkness assaulting the windows and it’s on the losing end.
Kravitz leaves the door open and sizes me up. “V’s not a joke.”
“I agree. She’s not.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me. “She’s my best friend. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. That includes kicking your ass.”
My shoulders roll back—to brace for a punch, to throw the punch. I’m wound so tight that my fist hitting flesh might be the adrenaline release I need. “Rumor around school is that you’re some sort of pacifist.”
“Thanks to my mom, most days I am, but I’ll flip on a dime if you mess with V.”
“Right about now, I’m feeling the same way about you.”
He almost smirks.
“Where is she?”
“In her room.”
I step toward the stairs and he slides in front of me. “I don’t trust you.”
“She does.”
He doesn’t move, and I consider taking the swing. “Why do you assume the worst of me?”