Chapter 6
925 Words
The Celebration*
I couldn't sleep.
The house was big and quiet and dark, and I was lying in Isla's bed staring at the ceiling again. The same ceiling I had stared at every night since I woke up in this body. White and smooth and completely unfamiliar.
I kept thinking about the burial.
My name on that stone. My photo on the news. Gem shaking my hand and smiling like she hadn't driven a knife into me just days before.
I turned onto my side and closed my eyes.
It didn't help.
---
A soft knock came at the door.
Not loud. Not urgent. Just three quiet taps like whoever was on the other side wasn't sure I was awake.
I sat up slowly. *"Come in."*
Conor opened the door. He was still dressed, which meant he hadn't slept either. He stood in the doorway for a moment just looking at me. There was something in his face I hadn't seen before. Something careful. Like he was carrying something heavy and wasn't sure how to put it down.
*"I need to show you something,"* he said quietly.
He walked in and sat on the edge of the chair near the window. Not close. Not far. Just enough. He held his phone out to me.
I looked at him first.
*"Just look,"* he said. His voice was gentle but firm. Like someone who had already decided this was the right thing to do even though it wasn't easy.
I took the phone.
---
It was a video.
Someone had filmed it from across a bar. The lighting was warm and golden. Music playing softly in the background. People laughing and talking at other tables.
And there in the middle of it all was Gem.
She was wearing a red dress. Her hair was done. She was laughing at something, head thrown back, completely free and easy. Like she didn't have a care in the world.
Then the camera shifted slightly and I saw him.
Liam.
My Liam. The boy I had trusted. The boy I had loved. The boy who had looked me in the eyes and told me exactly what he and Gem had planned before the knife went in.
He was sitting right next to her. His arm around her shoulders. Smiling that smile I used to think was only for me.
They were *celebrating.*
Drinks on the table. Laughter in their throats. My burial not even a full day behind them and they were sitting in a bar like they had just won something.
Because to them, they had.
I watched the video to the end. Then I watched it again. I don't know why. Maybe I needed to be sure it was real. Maybe part of me was still hoping I had misread it.
I hadn't.
I handed the phone back to Conor. My hand was very steady. I was surprised by that.
---
*"How did you find this?"* I asked.
*"Someone sent it to me,"* he said. *"Someone who knew Isla. Who knew what Gem was."*
I nodded slowly.
The room was quiet for a moment.
*"You showed me this on purpose,"* I said. It wasn't a question.
*"Yes,"* he said.
*"Why?"*
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked at the floor for a second. Then he looked at me.
*"Because you deserve to know,"* he said. *"And because I'm not your enemy."*
I looked at him for a long time.
This man who had kept me here. Who called me Isla even knowing I wasn't her. Who stood at my side at my own burial without flinching. I had spent every day in this house trying to figure out which side of the door he was standing on.
And here he was. Handing me the evidence of my own murder with both hands.
*"They planned it together,"* I said quietly. *"Before they did it. They told me first. They wanted me to know it was them."*
Conor's jaw tightened. His eyes went dark and still.
*"I know,"* he said.
*"You believe me?"*
He looked at me like it was a strange question. *"I believed you before this."*
Something shifted in my chest. Small and quiet. Like a door opening just a c***k.
---
I looked down at my hands. Isla's hands. Soft and unfamiliar.
*"They're not even hiding,"* I said. *"They think it's over. They think they won."*
*"They do,"* Conor said.
I felt something move through me then. Not tears. Not the shaky falling apart kind of feeling I had in the bathroom the night before. This was different. This was quieter and colder and much more dangerous.
*"They're wrong,"* I said.
Conor was quiet for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth moved. Not quite a smile. But close.
*"I know that too,"* he said.
He stood up slowly. Straightened his jacket. Walked toward the door.
*"Get some sleep,"* he said, stopping in the doorway. *"You're going to need it."*
He pulled the door closed behind him.
I sat in the middle of Isla's bed in the dark and quiet. The video was still playing behind my eyes. Gem in her red dress. Liam with his arm around her. Laughing. Celebrating. So sure that Enid Silverstone was gone forever.
I touched the edge of the pillow slowly.
*They think I'm dead,* I thought. *Good. Let them think that. Let them laugh. Let them celebrate.*
*Dead girls are easy to underestimate.*
I lay back down and closed my eyes.
This time I slept.
- Writer
