Maybe he didn’t want to talk about his brother, just as much as Red didn’t want to talk about her mom. Arthur’s eyes were still clouded, an awkward twist in his mouth. Now it was clearly Red’s turn to put her foot in it. my brother sometimes takes things too far.” Push it away, out of her head, skip to the next thought. Red refused to think about Arthur knowing, pitying her, or about Mom. Did that change everything? Was that why he was always nice to her, why he softened his voice? She looked down.

Maybe that was what Red liked most about him, that he was untainted by knowing. Arthur hadn’t known Red in the before time, he was new, he wasn’t supposed to know about her mom. She could not speak of her, would not think of her. And if that’s what you want, then that’s fine, but if you can’t talk to your best friend about her, I was wondering, maybe, whether you wanted someone else to talk to about her. “Or to even mention moms in general in front of you.

“You know, early on, Maddy pulled me aside and told me to never ask you about your mom,” he said.

She didn’t know Arthur knew about all that.Īrthur drew to a stop, catching her arm, the RV twenty feet ahead of them. Grace Kenny, captain of the Philadelphia Police Department, Third District. The word punched through Red’s chest, a hole left behind, air bleeding around it. Red stumbled over a rock she hadn’t seen, swearing as her ankle buckled beneath her, trying to bring her down. Her ponytail flicked against the back of her neck and she could hear her heart in her ears was that from the running or because of the axe-murderer? The light swung forward and back in her hand, flashing along the road. Oliver would probably say she’d been too long already. She lurched for her phone and held it up, the flashlight her weapon against the night.īut even so, Red decided to run back to the others. Her legs shook as she straightened, pulling her underwear and jeans back up, fastening the button and zipper in a hurry. But it didn’t matter because she was finished. It was just a rat, or a bat, or a raccoon, or maybe a vampire. The only people were the ones she knew of, behind her on the scrubland.

No, the worst way to die must be suffocating, no, no, actually, the worst was on your knees, two shots to the back of the-all right, all right, let’s finish up here. Mid–squat-pissing behind a tree while Maddy’s axe-murderer charged at her from the front.

Five survive holly