Page 104 of She Haunts Me Still

“Probably to, like, empty the bodies of fluids. During embalming.” She shudders, tugging Mallory’s arm. “I think we should go.”

But Mallory doesn’t move, the back of her neck prickling. She can’t explain why, but she just has a feeling: There’s something below the drain.

“Help me move the bed,” Mallory says.

“Did you hear what I just said? Don’t tell me you want tolookdown there.”

She turns to her. “I have to.”

Saskia’s face flashes with apprehension but she nods reluctantly. They pull the frame away from the wall, and Mallorydrops back to her knees to bend over the drain, working her knife into the edges.

The drain cover dislodges with apop—and Mallory immediately screams as a tangle of centipedes and silverfish spill out. Saskia shrieks alongside her, and they both scramble back while the bugs—each with scaly bellies and skinny, fast-moving legs—slither over the floorboards before disappearing beneath the door.

“No, no, no,” Saskia begs, clawing at her. “Please, let’s just go. There’s something wrong with this room.”

Chest heaving with loud, arduous breaths, Mallory eyes the drain. It’s dark now, as though waiting. Beckoning.

“We’ve come this far,” Mallory says. “I’m not turning back.”

She clenches her jaw before plunging her hand inside.

Saskia screams again but Mallory just closes her eyes as her fingers slip through sludge and slime. Something slithers over her knuckles and her entire body trembles, but she reaches lower and lower until she’s lying flat on the floor with her cheek pressed against cold wood. She makes contact with a hard object, tugging it loose.

A red box. A little smaller than a shoebox.

She glances at Saskia, something unspoken shifting between them. As if they both know the second Mallory opens the lid, she won’t be able to pretend Ezra is a victim anymore.

Mallory uncovers the box—and her hand flies to her mouth.

“What the hell?” she says, fingers shaking over a white handkerchief with lace trim and violet flowers, stained with blood. The one Arden cleaned Mallory’s hand with the night of auditions.

The one Ezra must have taken when they weren’t looking. Squirreling away the scent—thetaste—of his mark.

Cold sweat descends Mallory’s neck as she sorts through the rest. The ribbon with her cut hair. Her class schedule, folded up. A pair ofunderwearshe didn’t even know was missing. Mallory’s face flames with heat, and her stomach twists as she pulls out—

Her school photo. Fromlastyear.

Before they even met.

Mallory slowly crumples the photograph in her fist.

“He planned everything from the start,” she says. “Heknew. He knew his father’s society wants me dead.” She swallows. “Ezra wants me dead, too.”

“Mal,” Saskia says, “we’ll come up with another plan. We’ll—”

She falls quiet as she spots the final object in the box at the same time Mallory does.

A brass and ruby butterfly locket.

The locket Mallory’s mother had given her. The locket she’d lost.

The locket, she understands now, Ezra slipped off her neck while she was trusting him to keep her safe.

“Oh god,” Saskia says, a hand on her arm. “Mal.”

Wordlessly, Mallory unclasps the chain and fits it around her neck. For a moment, she stares wordlessly at Ezra’s bed. The same bed where he stroked and kissed her, turned her into something wild and feral, his to tame.

It was never real at all.