Page 95 of Please Open Me
“You don’t know me,” Sophia said lightly, eyes locked on Mattie. “Not really. So maybe keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand.”
“Then answer the question,” Mattie shot back. “Yes or no.”
My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning their voices... until I heard the slow, unmistakable creak of the nursery door opening.
Chapter 23
Sebastian
I walked out of the nursery, tugging my shirt away from my chest. The navy cotton was freshly stained with spit-up courtesy of Rosemary Jane. My lips pulled into a thin, teeth-baring line.
Time for a shower. Maybe I could convince Cameron to join me.
With that thought, I headed toward the living room. When I’d left to put the tiny terror down, Cam, Sophia, and I were halfway through some cheesy rom-com. He and I had split a bottle of white wine, and I was still riding the warm haze thirty minutes later.
It probably explained the slight wobble in my step as I drifted toward the glow spilling from the center of the house.
The second my eyes landed on Cameron, my grin kicked in on instinct. But he didn’t smile back. His eyes widened, his hand flicking toward the hallway in a subtle go back gesture.
Then I saw why.
Cam was crouched next to Mason on the couch. She looked smaller than usual, like one wrong breath would send her over the edge. Sophia and Mattie sat across from them, locked in a silent stare-off that reminded me of alley cats marking territory.
The air felt staged, too still. An intervention from hell.
The drunken warmth in my chest chilled.
“Uh… What’s going on?” I asked, dragging the syllables out like I could make them sound harmless.
Mason’s voice came small, splintered.
“Sebastian, do you kill people?”
It was like being gut-punched in slow motion.
My mouth opened and closed, useless. My brain scrambled through the seven stages of grief in under ten seconds.
Shock—How the hell does she know?
Denial—She can’t actually know.
Pain—I’m about to lose everything.
Guilt—Why did I have to kill her mom?
Anger—Who told her?
Bargaining—Maybe if I laugh, say it’s slang, buy her a bookstore, cook for a month straight…
Acceptance—Yeah, no. Not there yet.
I glanced at Cameron for backup. Nothing. Just a small shake of his head. Mason’s eyes never left me.
My hands shook, so I jammed them into my pajama pockets before anyone noticed.
“I—” My voice cracked.
“Killed—” I choked on the word. “Not kill. I… I don’t anymore.”
