Chapter 45

45

October 31, 6 a.m.

low tide

I rush to Rose’s side and kneel down on the floor beside her. There is so much blood, too much. I don’t know what to do, but I don’t think it would make any difference if I did. I try to focus on Rose’s beautiful face instead of the puddle of red spilling out beneath her. The clocks in the hall all start chiming that it is six o’clock, and I wish that they would stop. I want it all to stop. Time never heals anything in this house; it just hurts. I’m sure Rose must be dead, but then she opens her eyes, stares at me, and frowns.

“Daisy?” she whispers.

“I’m right here, Rose. Everything is going to be okay,” I say.

She smiles, but it’s an inadequate disguise for her pain. “You always were a terrible liar,” she says.

Then she closes her eyes, her head falls to one side, and I know that she’s gone.

“Why?” I scream, no longer afraid. “What have you done?” I stand up and turn to stare at the person who shot my sister, no longer caring what might happen to me. “You were always so loved by all of us. I loved you more than I think I’ve ever loved another person. Why did you shoot Rose? Answer me! Why?”

But Trixie doesn’t answer.

Rose’s veterinary gun looks very big in her small hands.

Her eyes are wide and wild. She wipes a tear from her cheek; then she runs.

Rose

Daisy Darker’s sister Rose was the eldest of the three.

She was clever and quiet and beautiful, but destined to die lonely.

She spent her childhood with books, despite her good looks, a smart little worker bee.

But achieving your dreams isn’t always quite what it seems, and heartbreak is rarely funny.

Becoming a vet meant more to Rose Darker than listening to her lonely heart.

But there’s a price to pay when you push everyone away; some of her choices were not smart.

Preferring pets to people is not a crime; in many ways it was the right choice.

So Rose worked alone, made the vet’s practice her home, until no one remembered her voice.

When the time came, even she knew who to blame when the gun was fired at her chest.

All work and no play meant there was little to say as she took a first but final rest.