Whispered Darkness by Jessica Sorensen Page 0,22

people don’t realize they’re being controlled and manipulated until they’re stuck in a web of lies, like a spider and their prey, toying with their food. I would know.

For years, I was Foster’s prey. I let him convince me that I was worthless, and I still feel that way. In the moments when everything is quiet inside me, I can hear all the venomous whispers he breathed around me for years.

You’re worthless.

Everyone hates you.

You’re a loser.

You’re a freak.

You should just put yourself out of your misery.

For a very long time, I believed every word and let my life become those words. But I’m working on fixing that now. Or, well, trying to. I’ll admit, I still hear his words inside my head more than I’d like to admit. And it affects me more than I want it to. Like tonight with Harlynn when she touched me, kissed me.

You deserve nothing.

You’re toxic.

No one wants you.

Those were the words that drenched my thoughts when Harlynn touched and kissed me tonight, whispered in Foster’s voice. But then Harlynn started telling me everything, about the dead girls, how she can see the shadows, too, how our souls are intertwined, and Foster’s voice became quieter as I tried to process what she was telling me.

If I hadn’t died, hadn’t seen the shadows dancing in the trees and moonlight all the time, I may not have believed her. But I have seen those things. Not the dead people, but enough that I know stuff out of the realm of realism exists.

And as for the soul thing …

Is it fucked up that part of me likes the idea of our souls being connected? I mean, I don’t like the part about how we’ll fade if she doesn’t figure out who killed the girls. Or should I say, I don’t like the part about how Harlynn will fade? I didn’t jump into that lake that night to save her only to have her die anyway.

She won’t die.

I won’t let her.

I’ll protect her.

Because if I do get one thing right in this life, it’ll be that.

During the short drive to her house, this is what I think of—how I’m going to protect her.

She remains fairly quiet, staring out the window and chewing on her bottom lip. I want to ask her what’s bothering her, but Porter’s right. I’m awkward as hell when it comes to being around Harlynn, and I can’t get the words to leave my lips.

By the time I’m parking in front of her house, just across the street, neither of us have uttered a word. When she moves to get out, though, I snap out of my stupor. Apparently, so does she since we both speak at the same time.

“Thanks for the ride,” she says while I tell her, “I’ll walk you to your house.”

She offers me the sweetest smile ever. “You don’t have to walk me there. It’s, like, fifty feet away.”

I give a pressing glance at the trees casted over with darkness then look back at her. “Just let me walk you, okay? I wanna make sure you get there safely.”

With her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, she nods. “Okay.” Then she pushes the door open and climbs out.

I turn the engine off and hop out, too, meeting her around the front of the car. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of my hoodie as she surveys the house. None of the lights are on, though the streetlamps light up the darkness.

“I think I’m going to climb through my window,” she tells me. “The doors are probably locked. Plus, even if one is unlocked, I might end up waking up my mom if I use it.”

“You keep your window unlocked?” I ask worriedly.

She pulls a whoopsie face. “Yeah, that’s probably not a good idea anymore, huh?”

I shake my head. “You should definitely lock it.”

“I will from now on,” she promises while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then she glances left then right down the road before crossing.

I follow, remaining close to her side.

“I wonder how I even got out of the house,” she mutters. “I’m assuming I climbed out the window, but I’m not sure.”

The reality of the situation slams against my chest hard. With everything that happened tonight, I’d almost forgotten how she ended up at that party to begin with.

“You don’t normally sleepwalk, do you?”

“No. This is definitely the first time it’s happened. I just hope it doesn’t start becoming a habit. And I’m not even sure