The only
good thing about the past few weeks is that I finally have my journals back. I
burned every single one of them because this was so much easier when I didn’t
have a family to think about. Everything was easier when I didn’t have a
family. Not that I regret having these two in my life.
Heather, I
could do without at the moment.
She’s not
dead yet, for those who were wondering. I kept her in the basement for a few
days until I decided I would rather have her alive to fix the mess she made,
instead of making her a new mess.
The two of
us are going to find the people who tried to blackmail her into betraying my
family and very nicely ask them why. Before I behead them with a butter knife.
I haven’t
tried it yet, so I’m very excited to see how many cuts it takes to get to the
center.
So while I’m
dulling my knives, Casey is going back to school on Monday, and James will be
back at work tomorrow. There was only so long I could hide everyone where I
knew they’d be safe. Soon or later, someone would come looking for those two.
Me? No one will miss me.
So, Heather
and I are off this afternoon.
I called
the number she’d been reporting to (anonymously, of course, come on!) and got
the answering machine for a private investigation company about a day’s drive
from here. Now, it could be a very strange coincidence, but I’ve only ever had
one encounter with a private investigator and I’m pretty sure I slaughtered him
and his wife. Whoever these people are, it may have nothing to do with them,
but it’s certainly stirring up old, unwanted memories.
If the
Westburns are somehow trying to screw me over from the grave, I will be both impressed
and thoroughly pissed off.
But right
now, I need to shower and pack so we can grab some ridiculously unhealthy gas
station food before my 28-hour road trip with my former best friend.
Kill me
now.
As always,
dear readers,
Stay Safe
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