Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“How long would I have to be in there?” I asked.
“It’s hard to say. It all depends on how long it takes for you to get close to Vasilios.”
I frowned, feeling torn. It was a rare opportunity, but it was also incredibly risky. My insides were in turmoil over the idea of putting on an act for someone as dangerous as Vasilios. What if he saw through it? What depraved form of punishment would he dream up for me then? I lifted my gaze to Sergeant Davis. “I’ll need to discuss it with my parents before I decide.”
“Of course. Though, as I said, they were both fervently against the idea when I brought it up.”
“I know, but I might be able to talk them around.”
Sergeant Davis nodded. “Right, well, I’m going to escort you to a washroom where you can clean yourself up, and then I’ll bring you to see your mother and father.”
“Thank you,” I said.
A few minutes later, I stood in a small washroom staring into a mirror. There was blood spatter on my face, dotting my school uniform. Did that mean I was in the room unconscious while Belinda was being slaughtered? Or did the blood get on me when I bent to inspect her body? A heavy feeling of sadness settled in my gut. Belinda and I were far from friends, but the idea that she was dead left me hollow. She hadn’t deserved to die, and the fact that another member of the Williams family had been killed because of Vasilios’s sick obsession with me made me angry. No, furious. His fixation on me needed to end before anyone else lost their life, and the only way to do that was to ensure he could no longer use his magic. His freedom needed to be removed completely, and while he could still access his magic, he would never be truly imprisoned.
“I can’t believe you killed me,” came a voice, and I jumped in fright. There, standing behind me in my reflection in the mirror, was Belinda’s ghost, her dark hair framing her face, her uniform drenched in blood. Ghosts must keep the image of how they died because she looked exactly as I’d seen her on that classroom floor.
When she spoke again, her words were small and airy.
“You murdered me, Darya.”
Her ghostly voice sent shivers down my spine, not to mention her grisly appearance. “I didn’t murder you. Don’t you remember what happened?”
She frowned, her brow furrowing before she answered, “No. It’s all a blank. The last thing I remember is sitting in the cafeteria with Anna and Liz.”
I remembered her sitting there, too, the three of them casting me snide looks and giggling away to themselves. It had been a mild irritation. Certainly nothing to make me so mad that I’d stab her to death.
“Someone set me up. The Guard has verified that I was framed,” I told her gently while turning to face her. I was both fascinated and unsettled by her strange, incorporeal form. “I’m going to help them figure out who killed you. The Guard wants me to go undercover.”
“Oh, wonderful!” Belinda’s ghost replied sarcastically, and I was somewhat amused to find her personality lived on, even in death. “I’m so happy you get to actualise your sleuthing fantasies. The fact still remains that I’m dead, and it’s all your fault.”
“Hey! How is it my fault? I told you I was framed.”
“If someone framed you, that means they had some kind of vendetta against you. Ergo, I was killed because of you.”
Okay, well, her logic made sense, and if Sergeant Davis’s theory about Vasilios was correct, then Belinda was right. She lost her life because of me. Guilt threatened to overwhelm me, like a tonne of bricks collapsing on top of me.
“Listen, I’m sorry this happened to you. Really, I am. I never would’ve wanted—”
A knock sounded on the door. “Everything okay in there?” Sergeant Davis asked. Great, now he thought I was talking to myself.
“Everything’s fine. I’m just finishing up,” I replied.
When I turned back to the sink, Belinda’s ghost had vanished again. I couldn’t deny I was glad. Most likely, she’d reappear at some point. Seeing her ghastly form only functioned to deepen my guilt, sorrow, and anger over what had happened. She was an innocent casualty, and I wouldn’t rest until her killer was brought to justice.
I cleaned the blood from my hands as best I could before changing into the grey tracksuit Sergeant Davis provided. I shoved my blood-stained uniform into a plastic bag, and when I was done, I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. My mind was made up. I would enter the Prison of Thorns as an undercover agent for the Guard.
I feared convincing my parents to let me go would be the hardest part.