Lovely Girls(80)

“But you can’t. The police will still be able to recover the video off Alex’s tablet or phone.”

“Maybe they will and maybe they won’t,” Emma countered. “But I can make sure they don’t get it from you.”

She drew in a deep breath, raised the knife up to shoulder height, and braced herself. Terror flooded through me. I put my hands up, already anticipating the pain from that deadly sharp blade piercing my skin.

Should I scream? I wondered wildly. And alert Alex? Or would that just cause her to run downstairs and make herself a target for Emma? I decided it was better to warn her.

I filled my lungs with air, and then, as loud as I could, I screamed, “Alex, get out of the house!”

Emma stepped forward and plunged the knife into my chest.





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT




* * *





KATE

The pain was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was hot and searing, and I suddenly couldn’t draw in a breath. I stared down at the knife sticking out of my chest, like a prop in a Halloween haunted house. Only this wasn’t make believe. I could feel something dripping down the front of me, and I distantly realized that it was blood. There was a dark-red circle on my T-shirt that was expanding outward.

I’m going to die, I thought as my feet slowly slid out from under me. I fell into a seated position, leaning against the wall.

I looked up at Emma, who stared down at me in stunned horror. The pain worsened, an unbearable throbbing that I didn’t think I would be able to withstand much longer. I desperately wanted to pull the knife out of me, thinking that might stop the pain. But I remembered vaguely that you weren’t supposed to do that. That removing it could cause the blood to flow out even faster. But did it matter? I wondered. Wouldn’t it be better to die faster than suffer the slower painful death I was now enduring?

“I stabbed you,” Emma said in an odd high-pitched voice. She stared down at me with wide eyes, her hands twisting in front of her. “I just wanted the video. It didn’t have to be like this.”

Just then there was a loud crack followed by the sound of glass shattering. Emma shrieked and turned toward the source of the noise. The vase of roses Joe had brought lay in pieces on the counter. Water poured from the fractured vase, off the counter, pooling on the floor.

Just as I was trying to process how the vase had broken, Alex ran into the kitchen and tackled Emma. Emma let out a grunt as she was knocked down to the floor, Alex on top of her, the two of them struggling. Emma was taller, but Alex was stronger and more athletic. She rolled on top of Emma, grabbing hold of her wrists. Emma twisted from side to side, trying—and failing—to dislodge Alex, but to no avail.

“Get off me!” Emma yelled, struggling to get free.

I tried to pay attention, but it was like the struggle was happening at a distance.

“The police are on their way,” Alex told me. “I called them from the phone in your room.”

I could hear sirens then, faint but growing closer.

“Oh, thank God.” I closed my eyes for a moment and then looked at my daughter. She was so strong, so brave. Whatever happened to me now, she’d be okay. And in that moment, I felt something close to peace engulf me.

Emma heard the sirens too. She stopped fighting Alex and went perfectly still. Alex let go of her wrists, and Emma covered her face with her hands. Then she started to cry.

“I’m going to go to prison,” Emma said.

“Mom? Mom! Are you okay?”

As soon as she realized Emma had given up the fight, Alex scrambled across the floor toward me. She knelt beside me, her eyes round with horror. I looked down at myself and noticed hazily that my shirt was now completely soaked through with blood. And I was so cold, so very cold.

“Don’t die,” Alex said, taking my hand and squeezing it in hers. “Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die.”

Her words were like a chant. I wanted to tell her not to worry, that I wasn’t scared. It just hurt so much, I couldn’t stay much longer. And I wanted to tell her that I loved her and wanted her to go on and have the most wonderful life. But when I tried to speak, the words didn’t come. My vision was starting to fade, the edges turning spotty, like an old-fashioned television tuned to the wrong channel. I tried to draw in a breath and realized I couldn’t inhale.

“Mom!” Alex yelled.

And then everything went dark.





CHAPTER FORTY-NINE




* * *





KATE

I could hear voices and sense people moving around. A hand briefly rested on my arm, warm and reassuring. Someone nearby was crying. No, not just crying but wailing in horror. It was Alex, I realized. Alex was more upset than I’d ever heard her.

“One, two, three, go,” a voice I didn’t recognize said. And then I felt my body lifted up and then gently set down. Wherever I was lying now, it was softer and cushioned. Straps were fastened over me.

I tried to open my eyes. I had to find out what was wrong with Alex. But then the pain returned, the unbearable throbbing engulfing me. I couldn’t bear it.

When the darkness fell again, I didn’t fight it.



The next time I swam up, I could feel myself being moved swiftly down a corridor. I wasn’t in my house anymore. I was somewhere larger, where the noises echoed off hard walls and floors. It smelled like industrial cleanser.