Page 71 of Unholy Masks

I handed her a glass, and she took a sip of water, clearing her throat.

The silence stretched.

“I don’t remember much, but I’ll try to think. I want to help. He—he killed Daphne.”

“Thank you,” I said, staring at her lips. “Hey Trish, the lipstick? Did he…”

“I—I don’t know. I woke up in the dark.” Her body shook.

“How exactly did you escape?”

“It was all a blur now, but… I… when I woke up, umm… it was dark, and I…” She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I was scared, but I remembered what happened to Daphne, and I knew I would die if I stayed. I couldn’t…”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t want to push, but I had to.

She was the only witness now, and I had to catch him before he came to finish the job again.

“It’s okay. I stood up from the cold floor. I couldn’t see the room, but it smelled like mold.” She rubbed her nose. “I was trying to pry the lock open, and then the door opened, and he came in. He pushed me to the floor, and he had something in his hands. He was surprised I was already awake. He kept saying I shouldn’t be awake yet.”

Did the Strangler miscalculate the dose? But there was no way he would make such a foolish mistake after years of perfecting this.

“And?” I pushed, gritting my teeth.

“I fought, but he—he was strong, and…” She mindlessly rubbed her throat. “The wire was too tight, and I couldn’t breathe. But I… I’ve been learning self-defense for so long, and I forgot every move. I was scared, and then…”

She shook her head, wiping her face with trembling fingers. Her body convulsed from the memory of the moment.

“You fought him off?”

She nodded.

“It was instinct. I think… he was flustered when I wasn’t unconscious.”

“Thank you, Trish. I’m sorry you have to go through this. I’m truly sorry.” I stood up. “I’ll leave you to rest now.”

“Yara?” she called me, her voice soft, uncertain.

“Do you want anything else?”

“Ca—can you stay? I don’t want to be alone.” She looked at me, eyes wide and wet. “So-sorry. Go. You must have a lo-lots of things to do.”

There I was… suspecting her, just because she was becoming friends with Irene.

“It’s fine. I can stay for a while,” I said, sitting back down on the chair. “I’m sorry for all the questions.”

“I-I know. I understand.”

“Do you-do you want me to call Enzo?” I asked, wondering if Ryden had seen the message.

She shook her head. “I don’t want him to see me like this.” She winced. “This isn’t exactly… second-date appropriate.” She gave me a thin smile that frayed at the edges. “I must say I’m rocking the hospital gown and the IV drip, though.”

I smiled, shaking my head. She was trying to alleviate the tension and failing.

“Hey Trish, if it’s not a bother, can I ask you where you are from?”

“Ohio. A nowhere town in Ohio. It’s too small, too quiet. When one of the church ladies saw my…” she chuckled, as if the memory pleased her. “You know, art, she told me I’m the Satan himself.”

She shook her head.