Love the Way You Lie (House of Crows) by Lisa Unger (early reader books TXT) 📕

Mason. “Sometimes the living haunt the dead. Because we just can’t let go.”

They all looked at Avery March, who was still standing in the circle, looking confused, despairing. “All this time,” she said. “I’ve been looking for her all this time.”

“I know,” said Mason, his voice going softer. “I’m sorry.”

“You know what happened to her, Mason,” said Avery, starting to sob. She sank to her knees. “Please tell me.”

He moved over to her and sank down beside her, put a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t know what happened to your sister. I’m sorry,” he said. “But I do know something I’ve never told you. I wasn’t the last person to see Amelia alive.

“Matthew Merle was.”

14.

Samantha seemed to have forgotten why they were at Havenwood, and Matthew felt locked in her searing gaze.

“I watched you go into her apartment,” said Samantha. Her tone was icy, her gaze boring into him.

Jewel was somewhere in this house. And they had to find her.

“Sam, don’t do this,” he begged.

Now wasn’t the time for this. They had to find their daughter. His wife knew that. But whatever she had to say, it was coming out now. No stopping it.

“You were in there so long, I almost left. Honestly, I thought that was it. That you were going to spend the night there, that you were leaving me for her. I thought it was the illness that had made you stop loving me. That it took something from me, or I was touched by this darkness, and you didn’t want me anymore.”

The hallway they stood in was a ruin, water-stained walls, and rotting wood floor, great strips of drywall hanging from the ceiling. The structure groaned and creaked like it was just moments from collapsing all around them.

“No, never,” he said. “That was never it. I always loved you. I’ve never cheated on you, Samantha. Please believe me.”

He put his hands on her small shoulders, tried to orient her back to this present moment, where they had to get their kid and get out, but she pulled back from him.

“But then I realized, no. Something died between us long ago—I don’t know. Maybe it’s the whole work-kid-domestic-duties thing—it just drains all the light and love, all the joy from your relationship, doesn’t it sometimes? Or maybe there was always something missing with you.”

“No,” he reached for her again. She took another step back. “That’s not true. I never stopped loving you.”

“I’m talking about me, Matthew,” she said sadly. “I stopped loving you.”

He drew back at that, felt it like a knife through the heart. Somewhere the building let out a groan, and a stiff wind blew in from outside.

“So I almost left that night, figuring maybe it was for the best. Maybe we’d both be happier on our own.”

“But you didn’t leave,” he said. A cold finger pressed into his belly.

He, too, now was lifted out of Havenwood and the immediate crisis of finding their daughter, and back to that ugly moment he had tried to forget.

“No,” she said, eyes shining. “I just sat there. Thinking and thinking about how I could leave. Where Jewel and I could go to start over. I don’t know how much time passed. But finally you came out.”

He stayed quiet and Samantha went on.

“I saw you carry something from the building. It looked like a rolled-up carpet. You put it in your trunk, and you drove away.”

“Sam.” He shook his head. How had he not seen her there that night?

“You looked totally casual, you know. Like you were taking an old rug to Goodwill or something. But it wasn’t just an old rug, was it, Matthew?”

They stood in the semidark, staring at each other. There were distant voices echoing off walls and ceilings, but he couldn’t understand the words.

Where was Jewel? They were here looking for Jewel. A lash of anger at his wife, for picking this moment to talk about things he would rather forget.

“Why didn’t you tell the police what you saw?” he spat. “If you think I killed Sylvia. That’s what you’re saying, right? Why didn’t you turn me in, Sam?”

She blew out a breath, backed away again.

“And ruin Jewel’s life, and mine, even more than it was already ruined?” Her voice simmered, white hot with rage.

He stood, mute with fear, his anger rising at her tone. She moved closer to him now, bringing her face inches from his. Then her expression softened; she moved away.

“And then we learned about this place, and I thought it was a sign. A fresh start for us, a new beginning. Maybe I could just forget what I saw, move forward, start again. After all, she was a criminal, a blackmail artist, and a con. She was trying to hurt us.”

“It was an accident,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean it.”

Samantha looked startled, as if she’d expected him to deny it.

The sobs came up then, washing from deep inside him. He covered his face and his eyes in shame. It was an accident—both times. Both times in his life that he’d hurt someone, he hadn’t meant it. It was like some evil in him was just waiting to get out. The Dark Man.

He was about to tell her everything when they heard the sound of Jewel screaming. The same terrible siren of fear that used to wake them from sleep when she was a little girl, like she was a witness to all the horrors the world had to offer.

He started running toward the sound when there was a deafening crash and a hurricane gust of wind that almost blew him over. The space around them filled with dust and debris.

“Matthew,” Samantha yelled. “She’s here. She’s over here.”

15.

Samantha felt like the whole world was holding its breath as she ran.

And then she saw her daughter, pale and covered with debris, lying on the wood floor of the foyer, her arms and legs splayed like a starfish. Time and