Chapter 35

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Two weeks later…

I can die.

I touch my neck, feeling the bare skin where the necklace should be. With the broken amulet tucked away in my jewelry box like some old memento, I am no longer protected. Any immortality the stone gave me is now gone.

Astrid kept me in a potion-induced haze for over a week. I know she thought she was helping, and perhaps she was in her own twisted way. The woman never really understood what it means to be a mother, but she tries. I see that now.

When my mind finally returned to reality, the pieces began falling together. Whatever enchanted magic the amulet had was destroyed when Conrad put it on. It was never meant for him. All the times I should have died were transferred onto him, and the magic transported me back to the first time—my birthday fire. I guess I'm lucky I didn't die as a teenager. I'd hate to be reliving those years.

It's like the rest never happened.

The road trip with Paul and Diana never occurred. There were no sparkle pancakes or grumpy fairy waitresses. I even miss that dancing turtle shirt and endless whining about waffles.

The death of Paul's wife has been in the news and all over social media. Memes making fun of the woman who died in a car accident while giving head have gone viral. Without the story of my family dominating the news cycle circus, the vultures and internet trolls have found something else to entertain themselves.

Conrad's death barely got a mention. There was a respectable article about the tragic death of the adopted son of Davis and Astrid Devine in a downtown fire. That's it.

Now, as I stand outside the family mausoleum with Anthony and our parents, I mourn the loss of my brother. No one knows what he did, and I see no reason to tell them. If they even believed me, there is no point in sullying his name. I tell myself I choose to remember him as I believed him to be before he tried to kill everyone.

Conrad's mother remains in her apartment, turning tricks and chain-smoking cigarettes. I slipped the article about her son under her door. I wasn't sure what else to do, but I feel a mother should know—even a mother like her.

The Turnblads are none the wiser in their Kansas City home. No massacre happened at a roadside motel. No police are investigating me—if that was even true. It's all been erased. Time has reset and righted itself. The fire was ruled an accident, probably because no one cared enough to dig further.

What? Am I supposed to tell them Conrad set it?

Then there is Lorelai. I haven't contacted her again, but it helps to know she's out there in the world. I picture her in her home, painting with her artistic Bohemian friends. Even if she doesn't remember my visit, I can still feel her love inside me, and it helps me get through the days.

We don't have a big funeral service for Conrad. There is no standing room only guests come to pay respects, no overhead drones or police detectives. Instead, it's just immediate family.

The weather is warm, just as I remembered it to be. Conrad was so severely burned it was decided to put his cremains in an urn. My father holds him against his chest. When he leads the way inside the mausoleum, I can see the ghost of a memory overlaying the new reality. Before, three coffins had been carried inside. Now, those same three walk upright.

I follow my family into the gothic depths of Conrad's new home. My father places him in an inlet.

"You will be missed," he says, tapping the lid.

"Sleep well," Astrid adds.

"I'm going to miss you, brother." Anthony sighs and drapes his arms over my shoulders.

They all look at me. What can I say? There are no words.

"Goodbye, Conrad," is all I manage.

Guilt fills me when I don't cry. I feel the grief settling into my bones. It will always be there like an internal scar.

We file out of the mausoleum. My mother places her hand on my father's arm as he walks her across the grass toward where the town car waits.

I don't follow them. "I think I need to be alone for a bit."

They all turned to look at me.

"Are you sure?" Anthony asks. "I thought we'd raid the wine cellar and drink until we forget there is a tomorrow."

"Maybe later." I take a step backward and touch my purse. "I have cash. I'll take a taxi home."

"Very well," my father says, continuing toward the car.

I don't watch them leave as I pull off my heels and cut through the graveyard. I dodge the old tombstones with only one goal in mind: to get to the stone bench by the fountain. Conrad is not the only person being laid to rest today.

The route is longer than I remember, and I find myself running. Finally, the sound of water on concrete calls to me like a siren song. I must get there.

I pass the giant sundial and the reader with her leashed dog. I focus on the bench—our bench. Diana has already come out to look at the fountain. My heart beats violently. I start to approach, trying not to look too eager. I can't remember exactly what I said last time to get Paul to give me a ride, but I'll think of something. I've been barely able to think of anything else. This is my chance to start over.

With my parents alive, I have Devine family protection again. No one will care who I date. Paul and I can be together. I just need to remind him that he loves me.

"Hello," I say, my voice soft as I approach Diana. It's chilly in the shade, but I don't care.

The girl turns to look at me with her swollen red eyes. I see the heartbreak in her gaze, and I want to make it all better.

"Diana!" Paul appears. The sound of his voice is like a balm to my soul. He looks rougher than I remember, and I can only guess that the public attention has made a difficult time worse.

I start to smile and lift my hand. Before I can speak, the temperature drops. I see a dark figure materializing on our stone bench. The transparent image comes into soft focus.

Conrad, dressed all in black, lounges as if he's been waiting for me. His arm stretches along the back of the seat as he stares at me with that same evil grin he had at Lorelai's house before he shot Paul.

I drop my hand and don't call out. Conrad's gaze shifts to Paul, and his smile disappears. He lifts his thumb and slowly draws it across his neck in warning before pointing a finger gun at their heads. He pulls his fake trigger twice. The threat against Diana and Paul is clear. If I go near them, Conrad will kill them.

I remember all too well what it felt like to have Paul die in my arms. The pain was unbearable. I could not survive it a second time.

"Hey, I told you not to wander off," Paul says to his daughter before he glances at me. Our eyes hold for a second, and I watch to see if there is a glimmer of recognition.

Conrad walks up to them, still holding his finger gun as he lifts it to Paul's head. They don't see Conrad's ghost.

Paul ushers Diana quickly away from where I stand. "I told you not to talk to strangers. It's like we discussed. They just want a story about your mom. We can't give them one."

"I didn't," Diana protests.

Paul lifts Diana in his arms and holds her close. He glances at me warily. "It's gotten cold out here, huh? How about we go home and find some hot chocolate?"

I'm forced to watch them leave.

Conrad's eyes appear to turn black, and suddenly, he's standing before me. He tilts his head. I watch his lips move but can't make out the words.

I glance to where Paul and Diana disappeared.

"Conrad. Don't do this," I beg. My heart is breaking into a million little pieces. This moment was the one thing keeping me going for the last two weeks and he is taking my happiness from me. Again.

Conrad smiles as he steps through me. The smell of ash lingers in the air as it clings to his spirit. The feel of him invades me, chilling me to the bone. Before he disappears, I hear his voice whisper, "They can die."

To be continued…

Okay, I know what you're thinking, my wonderful, amazing, patient, loyal readers: "What the hell, a cliffhanger? Tamara should be with Paul in a happily ever after. It's destiny. That's… Heck no. Go back into your writing cave, Michelle, and fix it. No more brownies for you!"

Yes, I know cliffhangers can be a love-hate experience, but trust me, it's all part of the plan to make Tamara's journey as captivating and thrilling as possible. Let me reassure you: I have plans—so many plans for Tamara. I can't help it if her situation is a little messed up. I mean, you've seen her family, and that Conrad is no walk in the park. I promise that her adventures have not nearly begun. You can watch for the next leg of her journey in book two, Mostly Shattered. I want to thank you for being on this wild ride with me. You have my love and gratitude, as always.

Also, please don't take my brownies.

Love, Michelle

The End

The series continues with book two

Mostly Shattered!