Shattered: A Dark Romance

I wander to the windows, looking out to the backyard covered in leaves. The trees of the forest are no longer green, instead shades of yellow, orange, and red. Leaves drop from them, fluttering to the ground. It’s a stunning view.

“Do you want something? Coffee?”

The voice startles me, and I jump before spinning quickly to face Mariam.

“Sorry.” Her red painted lips turn into a sympathetic smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold facing the mother of my sister's murderer. I wonder if she knows for sure he did it. I wonder what she thinks of this whole charade. The morning after, did he tell her? Walk into her bedroom and voice the words to describe his crime?

There’s a sympathetic look on her face and I have a hard time deciphering if she feels guilty or if she just feels bad for me.

Sympathy is something I’ve grown accustomed to. News of Auden’s death spread like wildfire and it wasn’t long until people I’d never met could pick me out on the street. Fingers pointed, lingering stares—I was no longer average.

“So, do you want that coffee?” she asks again, a solemn tone to her voice. She probably doesn’t know how to talk to me anymore. Should she be chipper, happy, sad? What emotion is right to talk to the girl with the dead sister?

I’m nervous to drink anything from her. Apprehensive to take anything from this house really. I’m not sure what the end game is. If that stunt doesn’t work will poisoning me be next?

Are two dead sisters better than one?

“No, thank you.” I mutter.

She sighs, placing each of her hands on her waist. She’s still wearing the black pencil skirt and silk top. She ditched the heels at some point, opting for walking around in stocking covered feet. Even so, she still looks perfect.

Perfect is practically the slogan of the Bancroft house. Everything there fits perfectly together. A happy family. A father who runs a Fortune 500 company, the perfect mother and wife who tends to the home and organizes charity events, and the son who’s training to take over the company.

“Have you eaten anything today, Mikaela?” she asks.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten, yesterday maybe. I think I had a slice of bread with peanut butter for dinner. The boys dragged me here this morning, and then the press conference, and now here I am. I don’t even know what time it is, Vaughn never gave me my phone back. I shake my head no.

She huffs. “Come on,” she says, grabbing my arms and leading me to the kitchen. The room is massive and has more cabinet space than anyone would ever need. The base cabinets are a dark, moody shade of blue that contrasts nicely with floating wood shelving above them.

I take a seat at the island as Mariam fiddles around making some tea. She pours the hot water from the kettle over tea bags she placed in each of our cups. “It’s chai,” she tells me. “I have a feeling you need something warming.”

While the tea steeps she sets off to find something to eat. She pulls out a loaf of fresh Italian bread and some deli meat from the fridge, setting everything up on the counter between us.

I let her make me a sandwich, even though I don’t plan on touching it.

Mariam is nicer than Edward. For a while I thought she was the reason behind all of the things I loved about Noah. He had a sweetness to him that matched hers.

He’s not sweet though.

He’s cruel, calculated, a monster.

“How are you feeling?” she asks as she sets the sandwich in front of me.

“Fine.” My voice is soft. Everything about me is soft lately. I’m quiet, reserved. I’m different from the woman I used to be. I don’t think I even remember my old self.

I’ve divided my life into before and afte

r. Before, when Auden was alive. When my parents were happy. When everything was right. And after, when it all went to hell.

I can pinpoint the exact moment that ruined everything, almost to the second.

It was meeting him.

I wish I would have never let Noah Bancroft into my life, into my family's lives. I wish we would have never met. Maybe then Auden would still be here.

“It’s okay if you’re not.” She tells me, sympathy dripping from her words.