Contents (85)
- Contents
- Part I
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Part II
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Part III
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- One
- Two
- Reading Group Guide
- A Conversation with the Author
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
I scarf the meal in minutes, going for a second helping. Lucinda always adds bacon to the mac and cheese.
I’ve eaten too much too fast and sit for a good ten minutes in the kitchen doing nothing but silently digesting. A wave of fatigue washes over me, and I force myself upstairs to shower before I lose all motivation.
After the shower, I brush my hair out, knowing I’ll sleep on it wet and it’ll be a tangled mess in the morning. I put on an oversize Nirvana T-shirt and heavy sweatpants with the Tufts logo on the left leg. Tufts is Cora’s first-choice college, and Dad bought us both a pair. Cora wants to stay close to home. My ideal school is located anywhere that requires a flight from here.
I end up choosing a book over a TV show. Stephen King’s Insomnia, which is the latest in my collection of his. Another beast of a novel, nearly seven hundred pages. I’m a hundred in and like it but don’t love it. There’s plenty of story left for that to change.
The house is silent, and as happens every now and then, I might not see any of my family tonight. I’m completely comfortable all alone, often preferring it that way. I sometimes think I’m going to be like my father when I’m an adult. A solitary animal.
I’ve read about thirty more pages when that comforting sense of solitude turns into fear, without warning or reason. Nothing has changed except the thoughts in my mind. My coziness is now a chill. The silence has become a weight on my chest.
Why does my brain have to become a weapon against me?
I cast an eye down at the book in my lap.
Damn you, Stephen King.
I close the book.
The clock tells me it’s a few minutes after nine.
I get up, knowing everything is fine but realizing I never set the house alarm. If I’m going to be alone as I fall asleep, I’m setting the alarm. Bury is safe, but I’m not jinxing anything.
I trot down the stairs from the third floor past the second, my feet cool against the hardwood steps. I catch a sudden scent on the final flight of stairs, a wisp of perfume.
Cora. She’s wearing Calvin Klein’s CK One, and its aroma is unmistakable.
Her room is on the second floor. My father’s, on the main level. The fact that we all live on different levels of the house sums up our family perfectly. Comfortable. Distant. Wasteful.
I stop my descent.
“Cora?”
No response. Just the heavy silence from before. Maybe even heavier.
I wait for a moment. Two. Three. Four.
I’ll check her room on the way back up.
Down to the first floor. Night has finally arrived, so I flip the switch for the chandelier that hangs over the foyer. Light pierces, cold and harsh. I make my way to the alarm keypad, just on the inside of the massive front door.