Clear as day.
“No,” I whispered, horrified.
Rosie clapped her hands together again, jumping up and down. She was terrifying in her joy.
“You know! You know!”
“How could you possibly do it? I don’t understand!” I gasped.
Rosie came back toward me and kneeled down again. She was happy. So happy. “Do you want to see? I’ll open the door for you now that you know. I don’t have to hide it from you.”
I nodded.
Rosie grabbed my hands and pulled me up on my feet. I followed her to the closed door and watched as she turned the handle and pushed it open.
I covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t cry.
Dark spots swam in front of my eyes, and the last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was Rosie’s jubilant expression.
And then it all went black.
The Past
Nine Days Ago
6:45 p.m.
I didn’t care about the noise I was making. I didn’t care that the drugs may be wearing off and Mother would most likely wake up.
My grief, my fury, my complete and total insanity, could not be contained.
Kissing.
Touching.
Naked.
Together!
“Oh my god! Oh my god!” I muttered over and over, raking my fingers through my hair, pulling at the scalp until it burned.
How could I not see it? Was I blind? Was I an idiot? I think the answer to those questions was obvious.
Yes.
“No! No! No!” I screamed.
“Keep it down, would ya!” Rosie leaned against the doorjamb leading into the living room. I could see Mother rousing, her head lifting.
I wouldn’t cower before Rosie. Not ever again!
“Don’t speak to me! Just don’t!” I warned, pointing at her threateningly.
Rosie laughed. “Why? Whatcha gonna do, Nora? Point at me to death?” She laughed again, louder this time.
I could see Mother’s eyes opening. She’d know what I had done. How I had drugged her. She’d see my sins and hold me accountable for them.
But I just. Didn’t. Care!
Because I had been betrayed.
My entire world crumbled into dust around me.
And Rosie was standing there; ready to dance on the ashes.
Ashes.
Fire.
So much smoke.
Screams of terror as I closed the door behind me, locking her inside.
“I told you not to go in there. Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.” Rosie shrugged, unbothered by my slowly encroaching madness.
“Nora! Is that you?” Mother’s voice sounded slurred and thick. But angry. So, so angry.
I ignored her.
“This is your fault! All your fault!” I shrieked, advancing on my foster sister. I scratched at my arms until I bled.
Rosie raised an eyebrow.
“How is this in any way my fault?” Her beautiful face darkened and she took a step forward. “You’re the one who refused to see what was right in front of your face. You were the one who lives a life of lies, Nora!”
Strangely, I grinned, my heart full. Full of betrayal and hurt and disgust with myself. But I smiled.
Because she was right.
Rosie’s eyes narrowed and then she slapped me. Hard enough to crunch teeth. Then she slapped me again.
“You’re crazy, Nora! You always have been! Remember what you did to me? It started then.”
I shook my head, my cheek throbbing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Rosie grabbed ahold of my shoulders and shook me. “Yes you do! You just don’t want to remember! Because you know!”
“Nora, who are you talking to?” Mother demanded, stumbling into the hallway.
I looked at Rosie who was grinning manically, her dark eyes glittering.
“What did you do to me?” Mother asked, voice still slurred from the drugs. She touched her face with shaking fingers.
I stared at Rosie intently. Her face changed. It melted and molded until it wasn’t Rosie I was looking at anymore.
It was a face so much more familiar.
“Nora! Answer me! What’s going on? What did you do, you horrible, horrible girl?”
I gazed at my foster sister. Only it wasn’t my foster sister.
It was me.
“Don’t you see her?” I whispered as my body started to tremble and a buzzing filled my ears.
“Look at her!” I screamed, pointing at the woman who had been my foster sister but now inexplicably wore my face. How did she do that?
What was happening?
Their smiles. Only for each other.
They loved. Only each other.
Not me.
Never me.
I was pushed away. Rejected.
They didn’t want me.
They never had.
How had I never seen it before?
Mother was infuriated. “I see my ugly daughter screaming in the hallway like a banshee!”
“But Rosie—”
Mother gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Don’t you ever mention her name in this house! I can’t bear it!”
I turned from the terrifying image of myself looking back at me from the other side of the hallway and stared at my mother.
“Why? You love Rosie! You always have! That’s why she’s living here! Because she’s the daughter you always wanted!” I sounded hysterical. My face was wet and I realized that I was crying.
Mother’s eyes widened and for the first time she looked terrified.
Of me.
“Why would you say that?” she rasped, her hands shaking, her cheeks flushed.
I turned back to my foster sister, but she was gone.
She had fled.
Disappeared.
“She was right there. She must have gone back upstairs . . .” my voice faded away because that wasn’t right.
Nothing was right.
Everything was so very, very wrong.
“I knew that you were mad,” Mother breathed. “I knew there was something wrong with you, more than your disgusting face.”
I clutched the side of my head, a dull, aching throb pounding at my skull. Nothing made sense.
Except for the betrayal.
The love. The desire. The affection.
For each other.
Not for me.
Mother stumbled as she reached for me, obviously still feeling the effects of the drugs I had given her earlier. When I had been desperate to sneak out. To go to her.
My destroyer.
My mother grabbed a hold of my arm, her fingers like talons as they squeezed. “You’re a nasty, cruel person, Nora! And a crazy one at that! How dare you speak of Rosie! How dare you!” she screamed into my face, her nails digging into my skin.
“Why? Why can’t I say her n-name?” I stuttered. Scared. So scared.
I could hear Rosie’s laugh drift down the stairs. It echoed inside my head with malicious glee.
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you, Rosie?” I yelled up to her, knowing how much she enjoyed my mother’s hatred.
Mother grabbed a handful of hair and yanked it, turning my face so that I was forced to look at her. “She’s dead, Nora! She’s been dead for eleven years!” Mother’s words dug into my chest like knives.
Rosie’s laughter stopped. It faded away into nothingness.
The Past
Or
The Present
Somewhere In Between
So many secrets. So many lies. How would I ever able to discover the truth?
If I opened my eyes, just for a moment, would I wake up?
I was surrounded by white. The smell of bleach and insanity made my nose burn.
I was trapped and I knew it. There was no escape. No running free.
Rosie had been right. I was alone.
Everyone was gone.
And I
had no one to blame but myself.
Poor, poor Nora Gilbert.
Ugly, horrible Nora Gilbert.
The lost girl.
The forgotten girl.
The one no one would ever, ever miss.
But I had time to make it right.
I had a chance to turn things around.
I thought of Maren. Beautiful, loving Maren.
I thought of Bradley. Bleeding, brutal Bradley.
And I thought of Mother. Her hate. Her dishonesty. I loved her for it. Even if she could never love me in return.
These people were my world. I would hold onto them no matter what. I would keep them close.
Because Rosie was wrong. I wasn’t alone.
I never would be.
I had made sure of that.
To be continued . . .
Don’t miss the final installment of The Missing series-
Volume III- Truth
Coming Soon!
I am shattered glass.
Thousands of tiny, sharp pieces smashed under foot.
He has sliced and shredded.
She has broken and ruined.
Yet here I stand.
Locked away in this place that has become my world.
What was once lost is now found. What was finished is only the beginning.
And in these final hours everything I thought I knew goes up in flames.
And I’m happy to see it burn . . .
#findNora
Read other books by A. Meredith Walters
For the usual suspects.
And for everyone who has taken a chance on these weird new stories from me. I appreciate your support and love you all to the moon and back!
A.M. Irvin is the pen name of New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, A. Meredith Walters, whose writes both contemporary and new adult romances including the Bad Rep, Find You in the Dark, Reclaiming the Sand, and Twisted Love series. She is also the author of the psychological thriller, The Contradiction of Solitude. A.M. Irvin writes thrillers that keep you guessing and makes you sleep with the lights on.
Before becoming a full time writer, she worked as a counselor for troubled and abused children and teens. The Virginia native currently lives in England with her husband and daughter.
All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without express permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service trademarks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademarked owners of all products referenced in this work of fiction.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © A. Meredith Walters/ A.M. Irvin
Cover design © Amy Queau/ Qdesigns
Editing Services by Tanya Keetch/The Word Maid
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Books by A Meredith Walters
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
The Missing Volume III Truth
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright Notice
The Missing- Volume II- Lies Page 10
