Free Darkest Fear by Cate Tiernan

missing?” I asked. I took a deep breath. “You know what? Two nights ago, someone tried to break into my house, my parents’ house. I hit his hand with a baseball bat, and the cops chased him but didn’t catch him. But I couldn’t help wondering if it was the same person who killed my parents. I mean, I don’t know why they were killed. I don’t know why someone would be coming after me. I guess I thought it was something about us, my family. But now, with your parents—I don’t see how their deaths, their missing hearts, could be a coincidence. It’s too weird. But what’s going on? Is our family in particular being targeted?” My shoulders drooped. I’d come here hoping for answers—not more questions. My brain was barely stringing sentences together—I didn’t want to think about it anymore. Tomorrow. I could think about it tomorrow.
    â€œI don’t know,” Matéo said. “But it’s definitely suspicious.”
    â€œYeah,” I said. My thoughts were coming in fits and starts. I wanted to talk to Matéo for a whole month, nonstop, but another wave of fatigue came over me and I realized I was going to collapse. Reluctantly I stood up. “It’s been so great meeting you,” I said. “Both of you. But I’m more tired than I realized—I can hardlythink straight. I just got to town—can you point me toward a hotel? Not too expensive. But safe?”
    Aly patted my arm. “Did you see all the weirdos in the kitchen?”
    â€œYeah. I mean . . . I didn’t think they were weird,” I said awkwardly.
    Aly laughed. “They are. Basically, most of them live here.”
    I must have had my doglike head-cocked-to-one-side look, because Matéo explained. “This was my parents’ house. Now it’s mine. It’s really big and expensive to keep up. So we rent out rooms. Right now we have . . .” He paused and counted silently. “Five people, plus us. One of our friends just moved out last week, so you could have her room.”
    I was embarrassed. “I wasn’t hinting—I really am fine with a hotel.” I didn’t know how I felt about suddenly staying with a bunch of strangers, even if one of them was my cousin.
    Matéo stood. “No—it’s settled. You’re family. You should definitely stay here.”
    I hesitated, thinking about how my parents always welcomed people into our house. Friends of friends, children of friends—they were glad to host them. Sometimes our guest room was occupied for weeks. Once, the daughter of someone my mother went to school with stayed for three months, while she worked to save money for college.
    Despite the whole boarding-house thing, this felt familiar. Matéo looked like my family, was my family. And I was truly running on my last bit of adrenaline. The idea of getting in my car to drive toa hotel was more than I could face. I could stay one night. If things seemed weird tomorrow, I would have more energy and could find a new place to stay.
    â€œOkay.  Thanks,” I said.
    Aly got to her feet. “Let’s move your car into the yard.”
    Walking back out through the large, old-fashioned kitchen was a little easier because only three people were still there. Aly introduced me to two girls and a guy, all of whose names and faces went right out of my head a second later. Matéo showed me how to drive around the corner and pull in through a side gate. This led to a larger area covered with crushed oyster shells where four other cars were parked. I left my mom’s Honda next to a pickup truck, and Matéo shut the gate behind me.
    I only needed my smallest case, just for one night. Matéo grabbed it.  Too weary to feel self-conscious, I fished my parents’ sheet out of the backseat, and then we crunched over the shells to the side door. This time the kitchen was