Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 148949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
“In the garden.”
“Get a doctor for Olga!” I raced forward, left David far behind me, and passed a small army of Harlem Crew now guarding Paolo’s and Emilio’s rooms.
Olga isn’t dead.
I bolted down the stairs. Anxiety boiling in my veins.
Everything is going to be okay.
On the first level, I sprinted ahead, rushing by a sea of men gripping guns. It looked like everyone was preparing for war.
Then, I noticed drops of blood on the marble, leading to the garden.
Did someone hurt Lunita?
My heart plummeted.
They had better not. To hurt her, would be to harm my mouse, and that could never happen.
As I got close to the garden’s glass doors, loud giggling sounded.
Lunita.
Dread crashed into me.
If Lunita was happy, then what would be on the other side of these glass doors?
My trembling hands pushed through. The lights were off. Moonlight seeped in through the glass ceiling, illuminating some of the dark garden.
Where is she?
Still running forward, I gazed around and only made it ten feet inside the garden, when I spotted her.
Then, my heart seized.
What I saw, chilled me to the bone.
“No!” I collapsed to the ground, my knees dug into the dirt. Sorrow and terror rocked through me. “No, Lunita! No!”
There, she kneeled on the ground, planting Olga’s decapitated head amongst the rosses.
“No.” I stared in disbelief. Tears streamed down my face. “Why?”
Only Olga’s neck was in the soil as if that represented the stem of a plant. The rest of her face was at the top, showing the striking shock of her death—eyes wide open in fear, mouth gaping, cuts all over her face, blood oozing along her cheeks and ears.
I didn’t cry.
I sobbed.
I crumbled to the ground, almost burying my head into the cold dirt and shed more tears than I ever had in my life, even more than for my own mother. Because at least my mother had died in furs, diamonds, and holding a glass of expensive champagne. At least my mother had said her goodbyes and hugged me for days, whispering how much she cared. At least she had passed away in warmth and grace.
I am so sorry, Olga. You did not deserve this.
“No!” I wanted to get into the fetal position. I wanted to run away, but there would be no escape, no way to fix things.
So much pain slithered through my body like a thousand snakes, consuming and paralyzing me in heartbreak.
And Lunita giggled.
Trembling, I raised my head and screamed, “This is not funny!”
Although she had been giggling, no humor covered her face.
I glared at her, wishing I could fucking charge her way, grab that tiny neck, and snap it.
Remember. That is your mouse too.
I fisted my hands into the dirt.
Lunita rose from the ground and walked over to a silver watering can near a bush of white roses. “Three for three.”
I wiped away my tears, smearing dirt onto my face. “What the fuck did you say?”
She picked up the watering can and scowled at me. “Three. For. Three.”
“What does that mean?”
“You killed her two guards. I kill your two guards. You kill someone I love. I kill someone you love!” She stabbed a finger in the air. “Three for three.”
My chest rapidly rose and fell.
She headed back over to Olga. “I respected her and you.”
“How the hell do you think you did that?”
“I only did it in the butt.” She tilted the can and began watering Olga’s head.
I turned away, still hearing the water splash onto my beloved nanny’s head. “Y-you didn’t have to kill her, Lunita. She had nothing to do with—”
“Are you looking at the TV!”
I turned back and glared at her.
“Are you?!” Lunita slammed the watering can on the ground. Her shoulders rose and fell. Then, her angry expression cracked to sadness. “You didn’t have to kill my Flower Man.”
“You do not fuck anyone else!” I got up from the ground.
Lunita touched her chest with a shivering hand. “I am my own person—”
“You are mine!”
“I’m not. I’m not. I’m not.” She placed her hands to the side of her head and screamed some more. “I’m not!”
“You are.” I prowled her way with menacing steps.
She ran off into the darkness of the garden.
God damn it!
I raced after her, almost stumbling into a statue of a lion crouching on the ground.
Where are you?
I caught a glimpse of my mouse’s white gown as she dashed and then ducked behind two huge bushes.
“Lunita, this cannot go on.” I crept that way. “We have to talk about this or more people will end up dying in the future.”
I picked up my pace and rushed behind the bushes.
She greeted me with a slash to my arm.
“Fuck!” I tried to grab her.
She darted away. “No talking!”
“We will fucking talk!” I touched the space on my arm where it burned. Blood dripped on my fingers.
Silence filled the darkness.