Fables & Other Lies - Page 45

“Maybe,” Dee said, though her expression was dubious. I agreed with her.

“During one of the tours of Pan Island,” Martín started, “the guide said Wilfred’s first wife died in the ocean trying to get back to Pan Island. They said that’s the reason the ocean between Dolos Island and Pan is so angry.”

“That’s . . . ” Dee shivered. “I don’t want to think about drowning.”

“Same. Let’s talk about something else before my head explodes,” I said. “Have you been to any of the other rooms, or is it just this dance area and the white room that are open?”

“I think I only saw that one,” Dee said. “I just want to dance anyway. I don’t want to explore more of the house. Who knows what lurks here.” She shivered visibly.

“You can always go to the white room and check it out while we dance, Penny.” Martín winked.

“I’m not sure I want to. I mean, I definitely don’t want to join an orgy. This is a one-of-a-kind Carolina Herrera, after all.” I winked back. Martín and Dee laughed.

“Well, we are going to dance,” Dee announced, reaching for Martín’s hand, then mine. “Join us.”

“I’m fine right here. You two have fun.” I smiled as she handed me a drink she’d grabbed from another waiter.

I walked closer to the band, watching as they played and sang as I sipped the drink in my hand. When I finished with it, I decided to explore. The thought of walking through the house alone spooked me, but there were too many people here for a scream to go unnoticed. At least that was what I told myself as I walked down the dark hall and found myself opening the first familiar door.

Chapter Seventeen

I was almost surprised to find the study empty, but not surprised at the relief that washed over me. I lay my head against the door and closed my eyes as I gathered my breath. When I opened my eyes, I stared straight at the window across from me. The gift from the Pope. One of the Piuses, River had said. I wasn’t up to date with my Pope knowledge, but I knew it had to be old. I walked over to it again. Maybe it was because it made me think of my grandmother, but I felt called by it. As I stood there, staring up at it, one of the candles beside me flickered. I turned my attention to it and froze when I saw a figure just beyond it.

“Who’s there?” I turned to face the person, then looked at the desk beside me to see what I could make a grab for to use as a weapon if it came to that.

“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your own cousin.”

“Esteban?” My voice came out gasped, fear lodging into my throat. “B—but you’re dead.”

“Am I dead though?” He took a step forward, then another, but it was still too dark for me to see him and in my uneasiness, I found myself taking two steps away from him. “Have I been forgotten?”

“No, of course not.” I swallowed, shaking my head. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. “You died. You disappeared. We assumed you died.”

“I did.”

“B-but that’s impossible.” My heart pounded harder in my ears. “How is this possible?”

“I’m tethered to this house, to this land, to whatever he wants me to be tethered to.”

“Wh . . . who?” I stared at him, wishing I had the courage to walk forward and actually look at him, but I couldn’t seem to move. My feet were too heavy to lift.

“Do you think I’m wicked?” he asked, ignoring my question.

I shook my head.

“If you just forgive me, I can move on. If you forgive me, he’ll let me be in peace. I won’t have to relive my death every day, the pain, the choking, the horror.”

“F . . . f . . . forgive you for what?” My lower lip quivered.

“Look at me,” he shouted. “Look at me!”

“I am. I’m looking at you.”

“Look closely,” he hissed. “I paid for what I did to you.”

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, blinking away tears to keep them at bay.

Esteban had been my best cousin. Sure, he’d done questionable things, like take me to places I wasn’t allowed, but he’d also gotten me out of trouble more times than I could count. Whatever it was he thought he did, well, of course, I’d forgive him. He stepped closer to the light and in it, I could see that his teeth were yellow, the front ones cracked, and his neck, oh God, his neck. It looked like someone had tied a rope around it and pulled mightily. His wrists too. I brought my hand up to my own neck and swallowed.

“Someone killed you?” I whispered, wiping the tears away. “Why? Who would do such a thing? Was it because you were stealing leaves for Tia Julia? To cure her of illness?”

Tags: Claire Contreras Paranormal
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