Page 115 of Adam & Eve

Speaking of Bianca… She was back there somewhere, too. She’d decided to try and bribe me.

Stupid, stupid girl.

Maybe you should say a prayer, the voice urged.

I laughed but decided to play along. “Dear sky fairy, I hope they all burn in hell if there is one.

Amen,” I whispered, then busted out into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Eve called out.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

I turned away from the past and jogged over to where my new life stood. I picked up my son

and headed toward the house. It would be torn down the next day. The land would never be sold, so

no one could ever discover the graveyard. I would never return, unless of course I found Dwight.

Even though Eve claimed to like what he’d done to her, he should have never touched her. She was a

child, and he took what should have been mine.

I side-eyed Adam as I took his hand. Two years ago, it would have been hard as hell to pretend that I

didn’t hear him having a full-blown conversation with himself. But I’d become accustomed to

pretending.

I had amnesia. At least that was what everyone thought. When I woke up in the hospital

sixteen days after I had been admitted, I couldn’t remember anything. I had post traumatic amnesia

from a brain injury. I was told my brain had swollen so drastically, they had to cut out a piece of my

skull to save my life. For about an hour or so after I woke up I thought I was still a teen girl living in

foster care, not a married woman with a newborn baby. Then I went back to sleep and when I woke

up it was all back.

I only stuck with the amnesia story because it was easier than explaining all that had

happened, and by then, Adam had already fed me a crock of bull about us being a big happy family.

He didn’t mention his father or my foster mother, who I didn’t kill by the way. I went to her house for

closure. I needed to let my hate for her go. We ended up getting into a screaming match and she either

stroked out or had a heart attack. She literally keeled over and died in front of me.

I panicked, scared that I would be blamed for her death, and I buried her. That was it.

Sometimes I thought Adam thought I was a killer like him. I would have thought I was if I hadn’t seen

him kill his father himself. After hitting my head I’d come to in time to see Adam murder him. He’d

tried to beg for his life, even told Adam about my foster mother. Like I’d suspected, Adam confirmed