Page 76 of Little Twisted Things

“Why here?” I asked.

“Because nobody comes here. It’s the way I like it. It was just Katherine and me for a while. I had control. I kept her safe.”

“No. I kept her safe,” I said.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Her voice grew louder, echoing throughout the forest. “I was here before any of you were.”

“So I’ve heard. Tell me your story, Mara. You know mine, so it’s only fair that I know yours. How were you here before us?”

“Katherine had just turned four when her uncle came to stay with them for six months after he was released from prison. I think you can guess what he did during those six months. She begged for help, so I stepped in and took it all for her. I stayed so she would never have to remember. For six months, I had to pretend to be her. It wasn’t easy, but I managed. Mother had somehow found out what her brother had done. One day, I was in the kitchen with her, and Uncle wanted a sandwich with extra mayonnaise. She looked at me and smiled, “I’m going to make him a special sandwich.” She took out two pieces of bread, some lunchmeat, cheese, lettuce, and mayonnaise. She placed the mayonnaise in a separate bowl, grabbed the box of rat poison she stored up in the cabinet, and sprinkled it into the mayo, stirring it up good before slapping it on the sandwich. He was gone, Katherine was safe, and it was time for me to go. Then that night happened. Katherine’s mother sat her down and told her that nothing can stay beautiful forever. She couldn’t risk her friends finding out about the affair her husband had and face the humiliation. She was quite unstable. When Mother lost control, you appeared. I saw the look on Katherine’s face when she saw you. So I hid. Then the others appeared. One by One. Casting me out as if I were nothing.”

“How could we cast you out when we didn’t know you existed?” I asked.

“Because you were all born out of the same trauma. I was born out of a different trauma.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I said. “I still don’t understand. You’ve been gone since Mother killed Father. What changed?”

“I’ve never been gone, Dahlia. I’ve hidden myself well so none of you could find me. But I’ve fronted and taken over the body several times.”

“How?” My brows furrowed.

“It’s quite an interesting story. Five years after the murder, the Ridleys moved next door to Katherine and her adoptive parents. Katherine and Anthony became friends. Whenever they’d talk or hang out, I’d put you all to sleep and front. I liked him. He was cool. His mother liked me too. She immediately made me a part of their family. The father was a drunk and an emotional abuser. I witnessed it every time I went over there. Anthony’s mother was a poet. Not a published one, but she wrote poems almost every day and kept them in this thick pink binder. She always told us the longer something goes on, the more likely it is to lose what made it beautiful. She said people need to be remembered for who they were. Not the person they’d become after making terrible decisions. Then she said something that triggered me.”

“What did she say?” I asked.

“She said nothing stays beautiful forever. Just like Mother had said all those years ago. The night Anthony’s mother killed his father, I was there. I had knocked on the door and asked if Anthony could hang out. She told me they were just sitting down to dinner and to go home. I found it odd since I ate dinner with them all the time. But that night, she didn’t want me in the house. So, I pretended to leave and looked through the window. I saw his father slumped over in his chair, his face pressed against the plate. Before his mother was arrested, he told me what she had done to his father. He made me pinky swear that I would never tell a soul. I’d seen the news and heard every detail about the posed body. That’s when it all clicked. She wanted everyone to remember how he used to be, not what he had become. So, I stole his story as my own. Anthony was shipped off to live with his grandfather in Key West. He had passed away several years later, and Anthony inherited the house.”

“I don’t understand. How did you front so much without any of us knowing?” I asked.

I learned not to leave gaps in the memories, including all of yours. Why don’t you ask me the question you truly came here to find the answer to?”

I stared at her for a moment. Afraid to find out the truth.

“It was you. Wasn’t it? You murdered those young women. You’re The Last Chapter Killer.”

45

A sinister smile spread on her face. “I am. And you had the audacity to do your own killings and try to make it as if I’d done it.”

“But here’s the thing I don’t understand. The murders went on for years in different states. Katherine never traveled to those states.”

That’s what I made you believe. I made friends online. Young women. I gained their trust. I charmed them. They told me things nobody else knew. They were on the path of destruction, and I needed to stop them. I had to deliver their final chapter before it was too late. I put you all to sleep. I did what I had to do, then woke you up. You never knew time had passed. None of you did. I was the one who put the idea into your head to move to Key West. I flew there before you committed the last murder in New York and made Anthony Ridley disappear. As far as anyone was concerned, he was traveling around Europe and didn’t know when he’d be back. It was perfect because he kept a secret room hidden behind his bookcases. A room where he filmed porn with random girls and sold it to the highest bidder. I left the house as it was. Never removing any of his personal items. I turned his porn room into my own personal kill room. I had planned to take over Katherine’s body when we got there, but you were strong and blocked me out, causing yourself terrible headaches. Your resistance was so strong that it made me somehow forget why I was there. You had a hold on me I couldn’t explain. We were born out of different circumstances, but for the same reason—to protect Katherine. Then the cheating husband murders started again. I knew it was you the first time. The twenty-two stab wounds. Your signature. Then others started happening, mimicking my signature. I didn’t know at first it was you. It wasn’t your style. And serial killers don’t stray from their signature kills. But you were smarter than I gave you credit for. I’d only found out after you were asleep one night and I could sneak in and access your memories. That’s when I knew the only way I could take control was to make you believe Alex was cheating and he was The Last Chapter Killer. I knew how detrimental it would be to your mind that it happened to you, and not someone else. It was my way of weakening you. So it was easy to plant the messages on Alex’s computer between him and DaisyMae22. He never saw them because I had them hidden in a secret folder on his computer. And when you would access his computer, I quickly brought up the messages without you ever knowing I was there. You were falling apart, Dahlia.” She smiled. “And every time, a piece of you would weaken.”

You’re a monster,” I spat. “How did you get Alex to that house?”

That was easy. I sent him a text message from your phone that day when you were sleeping off a headache, gave him the address, and told him to meet you there after his literature group because you had a surprise for him. You’d already found the address I planted in Alex’s bag. I was the one who made you research The Last Chapter Killer. I needed you to believe that Alex Whitmore was Anthony Ridley. Pretty clever, right? I was all set to take over after you burned that house down. But then the others had to force Katherine back. I couldn’t have that. You all had to go.”

“You bitch!” I shouted. “You’re a monster. A pure evil monster!”

“It takes one to know one, sister.”

“I know why I killed cheating men. But what I don’t understand is why you go around killing young women who are on the path of destruction? So, explain it to me.”

“You’re right. I am a monster. But I wasn’t always like this. I was a sweet and kind little girl who protected Katherine from that monster. The things he’d done, night after night. I took it all for her. And one day, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I’d become someone ugly, unnoticeable. Then I remembered. ‘The longer something goes on, the more likely it is to lose what made it beautiful.’ I didn’t want other young women to suffer the fate I had. So I wrote their last chapter to preserve them before anyone discovered the truth about them.”

“You made me kill the man I loved!”

“Please, Dahlia. You could never love anyone. You’re just as stone cold-hearted as I am.”