Chapter 07

Valarie's POV

Gerald's hand stayed pressed against the glass, right over my heart.

I hovered just above him, and something small and bright flickered inside me. It was the same feeling I had when the coffin lid first closed, when I still believed someone would notice. Now it was too late, but it still felt like hope. Someone was finally looking at me, really looking.

"Gerald?" Caspian called again. "What are you doing? You're missing everything."

Gerald opened his mouth. I saw the words form on his lips.

But then Elle gasped, loud and delighted, and every head in the garage turned toward her phone.

"Oh my gosh. You guys, look at the comments. They are going crazy!"

The screen was moving so fast it looked like water. The earlier comment, the one about the long-lost sister, had lit something up. Strangers who had never met me were now leaning closer to their screens, staring at my face, and digging.

"Wait, I think I have seen this girl before," one comment said. "She works nights, right? I saw her walking home at four in the morning."

"She never took rides. My cousin offered her a lift once and she said no. She said she was saving every coin."

"She cleaned tables at the diner near the bus station. She always said thank you, even when people were rude."

"She gave half her lunch to a stray dog behind the restaurant."

I stared at the words, and my ghostly chest ached. Those were small things. Nobody in my family had ever asked about any of them. Nobody had ever asked where I went at night, or why I never took the car, or why my hands were always so red. Strangers had noticed more about me in a few minutes than my brothers had in months.

Elle laughed, but it sounded thinner now. "Oh, come on. People will say anything online."

Then another comment rose above the others.

"Wait. Is she the girl from that old post about reuniting a missing sibling? The resemblance is crazy. Look at her eyes."

My heart, or whatever was left of it, jumped.

*A missing sibling.* The words sat there on the screen for one second, two seconds. I strained toward them, desperate to read the rest.

But a hundred new comments poured in over it, and it sank out of sight. Nobody in the garage had noticed it. Nobody reached out to scroll back. Nobody asked a single question.

Osborne had taken Elle's phone from her hand. He was scrolling slowly now, his thumb moving up and down the screen. His face, which had been so calm and amused all night, was changing. A crease formed between his eyebrows. His jaw tightened.

"Night shifts," he said quietly, to no one. "She refused rides."

"Osborne, don't listen to them," Elle said quickly. "They don't know her."

He did not answer. I could see the memories moving behind his eyes. I knew exactly what they were.

The mornings I came home with my shoulders sagging, and he had said I was lazy. The nights I slipped out of the house and back in again, and he had said I was hiding something. The times I fell asleep at the dinner table, and he had sighed and said I never put in any effort. I had never explained. I was too afraid he would stop me from working. Too afraid he would find out what I was saving for.

Now the strangers were explaining it for me.

"She was not lazy," Osborne said, and his voice cracked slightly on the last word. "She was tired."

"Osborne." Elle stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. "She is doing this on purpose, don't you see? She is pretending to be helpless. She always does this. She wants everyone to feel sorry for her."

But Osborne was not looking at her. He was looking at the coffin.

Caspian had gone quiet, too. His phone hung loosely at his side. Gerald had not moved from the glass. All three of my brothers stood there with the same uneasy look, as if a cold wind had crept into the garage and none of them knew where it had come from.

They were no longer completely sure.

I felt it, that tiny shift, like the first crack in ice. It was not much. It was not love. But it was doubt, and doubt was more than I had ever gotten from them.

Elle saw it too. I watched her eyes flick from one brother to the next, and I watched her smile grow tight.

"Fine," she said, lifting her chin. "If you don't believe me, open it. See for yourselves. She will jump out and laugh at us, and then you will feel silly."

The live stream counter in the corner of the screen had climbed higher and higher. Thousands of people were watching now. Thousands of strangers waiting to see what would happen to the girl in the glass box.

"Open it," Gerald said. His voice was rough. "Osborne, open it."

Osborne hesitated for a heartbeat. Then he nodded once and walked to the side of the coffin, pulling the key from his pocket. Caspian moved to the other side. Gerald stayed where he was, his hand still pressed to the glass.

*Hurry,* I whispered, though I knew there was no one left to save. *Please hurry.*

Osborne slid the key into the lock. The metal turned with a soft, heavy click.

The sound went through me like a bell.

Slowly, the three of them lifted the glass lid. Cold air spilled out from inside, mixed with the sweet, heavy smell of crushed imported flowers. The lid rose higher and higher, until there was nothing at all between my body and the people who had put me there.

"Okay, Valarie," Osborne said, and I heard the strain hiding beneath his calm voice. "The prank is over. You can stop now."

Nobody moved.

I lay exactly as I had lain for the last hour, my eyes open, my lips black, my hands curled and still at my sides. There was no flutter of eyelashes. No sudden laugh. No sigh of relief, no gasp of fresh air, no grateful smile because I was finally free.