Page 144 of Unholy Masks

“Stop. Please.” Irene shook her head. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” The FATE sisters used to ask me the same thing before they locked me in the pantry. It was too small, too suffocating. By the time they opened the door, I would be sweating through my clothes.

I closed my eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me, Trish. Do you honestly believe Yara will come to you after you’ve taken away everyone she’s ever cared about?”

“Yes. When there’s nowhere else to go, she must come to the only place that’s safe. Me.”

“She would rather kill you and kill herself than that.”

“If that’s so, we’ll die together.”

I left the television running.

“Kurt, keep an eye on her.”

“Patty, the girl is…”

“We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodbye.”

I left.

35

THE WOUNDS THAT NEVER CLOSE

YARA

Trish was awake, sitting on the couch with all the lights switched on, when we finally retrned. It was right after midnight, and the darkness in my soul matched the darkness the skies wore.

She jumped up when she saw us. Her eyes were red from crying.

“Did you find—”

Enzo shook his head.

“It’s my fault,” she whispered, pressing her hands to her eyes.

“I won’t lose Irene. No, not her.”

When I looked up, Trish was staring at me. Right at me. I stared back at this strange woman who had been living with Enzo and Irene for a few days now.

What did I know about her? She came into our lives accidentally. Or was it intentional?

She knew Logan Jones. She was working with him.

How did I trust her? Why did I?

“What?” she mouthed.

Who are you?

I didn’t ask. But the question lingered.

“Nothing,” I said, turning away. “I need some rest.”