layer of makeup. I had to buy five different kinds at Target before I found one that blended with my skin. At a client meeting, I told them a story about cutting down blackberries. Beforehand, I had thrust my arms into some brambles along a road, to make it more believable. “It’s been what—a week? Have they found Kayla’s body yet?”
Gabie’s face goes pale and she bites her lip. She looks even more pretty, if that’s possible.
“No.” She gives her head a shake, her bangs falling in her eyes. “No.”
A grin wells up inside me, but I don’t let it out. Gabie has no idea. She has no idea Kayla is alive, at least as long as I allow her to be.
She has no idea Kayla will have to die to make room for her.
The Seventh Day
Drew
“CAN I ORDER pizza and salad to be delivered?” It’s a woman’s voice, a perfectly normal woman’s voice, but my stomach does a flip. This is it. The moment I actually have to drive Gabie’s car. Earlier, Pete was making deliveries, but now everyone’s left but the two of us.
I put my hand over the phone. “I’ve got a to-go order,” I tell Gabie.
“Well, take it.”
“You’re sure?” Because I’m not, not at all.
“Yes,” Gabie says. But she sort of shakes her head when she says it.
It only takes a few minutes to make the pizzas. After putting them in the oven, I look around. The counter should seem like a protective barrier between us and the outside world. But now it feels more like a cage designed to keep us in. If someone crazy walks in, Gabie could be trapped. Sure, there’s the door to the back parking lot, but to get to it she’d have to run through the prep area, past Pete’s office and the dough room and the break room, and then finally unlock the door. That’s way too far if someone is chasing you.
“I shouldn’t leave you here alone. I’ll call the lady back and tell her we can’t do it.”
“It’ll be okay. All the other stores are still open. If anyone tries anything, there’ll be a million witnesses. And my cell phone’s right here.” Gabie pats her apron pocket.
It still doesn’t feel right. But what can I do? At least having her stay here is a lot safer than having her make the delivery. I go into the cooler to get the salad. Sunny makes it in the morning, so all I have to do is put the lettuce mix in a white box and tuck in a little container of dressing. As I push open the door, I realize the cooler is like a fortress. No windows. The door is at least six inches thick and solid wood. Lying in the corner is a short piece of wood broken off from a pallet. I slide it underneath the handle so it goes across the door frame. Then I try to push open the door. It won’t budge.
I take it out and bring Gabie inside to show her. Our breath hangs in two clouds that mingle together. “See, if someone came in, you could just run in here and slide this piece of wood in. Try it when I leave.” I push the door open, go outside, wait a minute, and then try to pull it open again. It doesn’t budge. And since the door opens out, it’s not like a bad guy could kick it open or crash it down with his shoulder.
The pizzas seem to take only seconds. I slide them in the cardboard boxes and put the boxes into red insulated bags. The salad goes on top.
I take a deep breath. “Okay, I guess I’m ready. If someone comes in that has the wrong vibe, then get in the cooler and call 911. Don’t worry about looking stupid.”
She hands me the keys. “I’ll be careful. And you be careful, too.” Her eyes flash up to me and then away. She’s standing so close I can smell the spearmint on her breath. She’s been chewing gum all night, chewing fast and working fast.
I go out the back door. There’s not much light. I’ll walk Gabie out to her car before I go home. I press the button on the weird-looking key thing to unlock her car. My hand is shaking. I put the pizzas and salad on the front seat, first running my hand underneath the bag to
Gabie’s face goes pale and she bites her lip. She looks even more pretty, if that’s possible.
“No.” She gives her head a shake, her bangs falling in her eyes. “No.”
A grin wells up inside me, but I don’t let it out. Gabie has no idea. She has no idea Kayla is alive, at least as long as I allow her to be.
She has no idea Kayla will have to die to make room for her.
The Seventh Day
Drew
“CAN I ORDER pizza and salad to be delivered?” It’s a woman’s voice, a perfectly normal woman’s voice, but my stomach does a flip. This is it. The moment I actually have to drive Gabie’s car. Earlier, Pete was making deliveries, but now everyone’s left but the two of us.
I put my hand over the phone. “I’ve got a to-go order,” I tell Gabie.
“Well, take it.”
“You’re sure?” Because I’m not, not at all.
“Yes,” Gabie says. But she sort of shakes her head when she says it.
It only takes a few minutes to make the pizzas. After putting them in the oven, I look around. The counter should seem like a protective barrier between us and the outside world. But now it feels more like a cage designed to keep us in. If someone crazy walks in, Gabie could be trapped. Sure, there’s the door to the back parking lot, but to get to it she’d have to run through the prep area, past Pete’s office and the dough room and the break room, and then finally unlock the door. That’s way too far if someone is chasing you.
“I shouldn’t leave you here alone. I’ll call the lady back and tell her we can’t do it.”
“It’ll be okay. All the other stores are still open. If anyone tries anything, there’ll be a million witnesses. And my cell phone’s right here.” Gabie pats her apron pocket.
It still doesn’t feel right. But what can I do? At least having her stay here is a lot safer than having her make the delivery. I go into the cooler to get the salad. Sunny makes it in the morning, so all I have to do is put the lettuce mix in a white box and tuck in a little container of dressing. As I push open the door, I realize the cooler is like a fortress. No windows. The door is at least six inches thick and solid wood. Lying in the corner is a short piece of wood broken off from a pallet. I slide it underneath the handle so it goes across the door frame. Then I try to push open the door. It won’t budge.
I take it out and bring Gabie inside to show her. Our breath hangs in two clouds that mingle together. “See, if someone came in, you could just run in here and slide this piece of wood in. Try it when I leave.” I push the door open, go outside, wait a minute, and then try to pull it open again. It doesn’t budge. And since the door opens out, it’s not like a bad guy could kick it open or crash it down with his shoulder.
The pizzas seem to take only seconds. I slide them in the cardboard boxes and put the boxes into red insulated bags. The salad goes on top.
I take a deep breath. “Okay, I guess I’m ready. If someone comes in that has the wrong vibe, then get in the cooler and call 911. Don’t worry about looking stupid.”
She hands me the keys. “I’ll be careful. And you be careful, too.” Her eyes flash up to me and then away. She’s standing so close I can smell the spearmint on her breath. She’s been chewing gum all night, chewing fast and working fast.
I go out the back door. There’s not much light. I’ll walk Gabie out to her car before I go home. I press the button on the weird-looking key thing to unlock her car. My hand is shaking. I put the pizzas and salad on the front seat, first running my hand underneath the bag to
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