Free Dying to Tell by Rita Herron Page B

saw him load what little furniture he had in a van and drive away around midnight one night.” He gave Jake the date, and the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck prickled.
    Herbert Foley had left town the same night Grace Granger took her fall.

    He watched Amelia sleep. Her chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, all thanks to the drugs. But inside her head, the voices wouldn’t die.
    His was going to be the loudest.
    He had lived inside her for years, ever since she was a child. But he’d lain dormant, bided his time, listened to the others bicker and argue, watched them torment Amelia.
    Waited till the time was right for him to take over.
    That time was near.
    But not yet.
    He had work to do first.
    “The chimes are singing,” he whispered in Amelia’s ear. “Hear them cry...”
    Amelia moaned and rolled over, restless.
    Laughter bubbled inside him. Yes, his voice was going to be the loudest.
    And when he finally killed her, it would be the only one she heard as he put her in the grave.

Chapter 7

    M ixed emotions pummeled Sadie as she watched Jake drive away.
    How many nights had she lain awake dreaming about him after she left Slaughter Creek? Remembering the feel of his hands on her and the way he’d made her body hum with arousal.
    Remembering the tender way he’d held her and the understanding in his eyes when she’d confessed her guilt over being the normal twin—her fear that one day she might be afflicted by the same mental disorder that had plagued Amelia. Her desire to run away from the terrible personality switches that had come upon her sister without warning as a teenager.
    And then that one horrible night...
    She tried to banish the memory, but the wind howled through the eaves of the old house, resurrecting it from the dead. It was dark tonight just like back then, a moonless night, the clouds obliterating the stars, rain pinging off the roof.
    She locked the front door, willing the past to stay buried, but a tree branch scraped the window, and upstairs the floor creaked. The attic...
    Was someone here?
    No...Jake had searched the house. It was just the ghosts. Ghosts that had haunted her for years. They followed her everywhere she went.
    She staggered away from the front door and collapsed on the steps. Her head was swirling, the room spinning, the darkness engulfing her and pulling her into that bleak tunnel she’d tried so hard to escape.
    Then she was back there. Back to that haunting event.
    She had just come home from prom. She and Jake had made out at Lovers’ Peak, whispering promises to each other about forever and marriage and babies. But even as they made plans, she had an uneasy feeling that something was wrong at home.
    She’d never been able to read Amelia’s fragmented mind, but she’d had premonitions at times. And this one swept over her so strongly that she felt ill and asked Jake to take her home.
    He wanted to come in with her, to make sure things were all right. But her grandfather had been drowning himself in the bottle too much that week, and she insisted Jake leave. The shame was too much.
    She took off her prom dress and put on jeans, desperate to talk to Amelia and make sure she was okay. She hadn’t been asked to the prom, and Sadie felt guilty about leaving her. But Amelia encouraged her to go, had said she was okay.
    And she had seemed okay. She’d been taking her medication and had appeared stable for weeks.
    Then Amelia’s shrill scream pierced the night.
    Amelia was in the guesthouse, in the studio they built when she and Amelia were teenagers so Amelia could exorcise her demons on canvas. Therapy, the doctors had said.
    Her artwork was characteristic of whatever personality had assumed her body for the day.
    Sadie began to shake, the fog of that night weighing so heavily on her that she had to fight for breath. It was as if she were reliving it all over again.
    She raced outside...saw a man stumble from the guesthouse. Not just a man...Jake’s father...he