Memories From a Dead Girl
Seven
Once Chloe left, I was alone with Austin again. He sat on his cot, against the wall, and I took my place on the floor, staring over at him.
I closed my eyes. "I want to know why."
He couldn't hear me, of course.
But he replied as if he could.
"I'm sorry, Olivia."
The words were an echo in my head.
That wasn't enough. I needed to know more. I needed to know what he knew. Because all I remembered was his hand on the knife as it was driven into my stomach, his expression one of surprise, and his face splattered with my blood.
I closed my eyes. "I want to know why."
He couldn't hear me, of course.
But he replied as if he could.
"I'm sorry, Olivia."
The words were an echo in my head.
That wasn't enough. I needed to know more. I needed to know what he knew. Because all I remembered was his hand on the knife as it was driven into my stomach, his expression one of surprise, and his face splattered with my blood.