Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
It’s an elegant hat box, the kind a sophisticated lady would keep her finest pieces in. Dirt is clinging to it on every side, but it still has an impressive sheen. Hearts line the sides of the box, and a knotted velvet ribbon brings the whole thing together.
“We’ll have to untie the ribbon to see what’s inside,” Alissa says.
“Sounds good. You work on the ribbon, and I’ll work on getting this rosebush replanted,” I say. “I’ll use the big flashlight, and you can use your phone light.”
She nods and starts working at the ribbon.
Meanwhile, I return a few chunks of soil to the hole we’ve made, getting it to about the level it was when we removed the rosebush. I’m about to turn to ask Alissa to help me put the rosebush back in when—
“Oh my God!”
I look over at Alissa. Her eyes are wide, and under the moonlight she’s pale as a ghost. The lid is still on the box, but the knot is untied and lying in a heap at its side. Her phone, with its tiny flashlight activated, is on the ground next to her.
“Alissa!” I run over to her. “What is it?”
She points to the box, breathing heavily. “It’s… It’s… I opened it, peeked inside… And… And…”
“You need to take a deep breath, Alissa,” I say.
“Inside… Inside…” Her breath comes in rapid puffs until her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses into my arms.
“Alissa!” I lay her down on the ground beside the picnic table, slapping her gently on the cheek. “Alissa, wake up!”
Fuck. She’s fainted. I’ll have to carry her back to the car if she doesn’t come to.
But before that, I have to finish replanting the rosebush. Can’t leave any evidence that someone was here.
I look back at the hatbox. What was so terrible inside that box that it would cause her reaction?
I need to take care of Alissa, but I also need to know what’s inside this box. This could be an important clue as to what happened to May. What kind of trouble Rouge is brewing behind closed doors at the club.
I know—or at least I think I know—of at least one thing she’s done behind closed doors. I’ve always pushed it to the back of my head, but if she was capable of doing what I believe I witnessed all those years ago, she’s certainly capable of doing other awful things.
Alissa is breathing, and I can make out a pulse in her wrist. She’s okay. Just fainted. She’ll regain consciousness in a bit. Thank God. I have to keep her safe.
But I need to know.
I need to know.
I slowly get to my feet and look at the hatbox. I reach my arm across the table to grab the edge of the lid.
Every muscle in my body is stiffening. My gut is telling me to turn around and run as fast as I can away from this place. Never look back and live the rest of my life in peace.
But we’re too far down the rabbit hole at this point.
We’ve got to see it through.
I pry open the case, and immediately a terrible stench hits me.
What the fuck?
I hold my breath and continue, lighting the flashlight on my phone.
My stomach lurches as my mouth falls open, a strangled breath catching in my throat. A cold, creeping numbness spreads through my limbs, rooting me in place. My mind scrambles to process what I’m seeing, but it’s too much—too awful. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything else as the scene before me sears itself into my brain. It can’t be.
It can’t fucking be.
I swallow and look again, confirming the horrific thing I just saw. I bend over and heave, but nothing comes out.
I fall to my knees, unable to believe it. Unable to believe that such a terrible fate would befall such an innocent young woman. An innocent young woman who had been through so much, who had her whole life ahead of her.
Alissa was wrong. The crown in the riddle wasn’t referring to Rouge’s tiara.
By crown, it meant head. As in a human head.
A severed human head.
The severed head of May.
The Seven of Spades has been discarded.