Page 47 of An Evil Heart
“Is there a reason why you didn’t mention they were friends?”
Her shoulders tense. It’s a minute reaction, but I’m seeking those small tells and I don’t miss it. “They weren’tthatclose,” she mutters.
“But they were friends?” I ask.
“I guess. They hung out together sometimes. Over at that trashy old gas station.”
“Did they get along?”
“They got on okay.”
“Did you spend time with them?”
This time she winces. An emotion I can’t read flashes across her expression. The patch of acne seems to glow red against her pale skin. Curiosity flickers in my chest.Something there,a little voice whispers.
“I went over there a time or two,” she says. “I mean, with Aden.”
I pause, wait for her to look at me, but she doesn’t. “Did you get along with Vernon?”
She raises her eyes to mine and for the first time the dull sheen is gone, replaced with the sharp edge of another emotion I can’t decipher. “I never liked him much,” she tells me.
“Why not?”
“He’s… aleshtah-diah.” Beast that blasphemes.
It’s an archaicDeitschterm that basically describes a person who speaks ill of God or, I’m assuming in the way Emily is using it, is an evil person.
“How so?” I ask.
Her brows knit and she seems to consider. “All of those guys who hang out over there. Always drinking and laughing and taking the Lord’s name in vain. They’re rough and crude. And Vernon, it’s like he makes fun of you behind your back. It was always better when Aden came here, where it was quiet and we could talk.” As if remembering, she bows her head, tears tracing a path down her cheeks.
“Did Aden know you didn’t like Vernon?”
“I never really said,” she mutters.
Something there…
“I understand Vernon had a crush on you. Is that true?”
“Never heard such a thing.”
“Did he ever make a pass at you?” I ask. “Or behave improperly?”
She raises her eyes to mine, color climbing up her neck and into her cheeks. A thin sheen of sweat slicks her upper lip and forehead. It’s notoverly warm, and I don’t know if the sweat is from discomfort or stress or if she’s simply not feeling well.
“Never.”
“Did any of the other men ever behave improperly with you?”
She starts to shake her head, but stops as if thinking better of it. “I heard the whispers. They called me names. Behind my back, you know. But I could see the mean in their eyes.”
“How did Aden feel about that?” I ask.
She looks away. “I’m sure he didn’t like it much.”
“He didn’t say?”
“We never talked about it.” She shrugs. “Maybe he didn’t notice.”
