The Gifts of Hannah Best

Part Twelve

Without anyone to talk to Hannah turned inward. She couldn't go to her parents for advice, not that she often did, but she wanted to call her father in that moment. She wanted to ask him for the truth, if she really had done what Preacher Tompkins claimed; if her mother really was afraid of her. If Jessica wasn't before, she was now. Not only that, Hannah wanted to ask her father if he ever felt the way she did—if he'd ever enjoyed the things he shouldn't. Thinking of the alley still gave Hannah a squirm in her stomach, knowing she had fought someone and won. But Hannah knew that wasn't something you asked your parents, or anyone for that matter. Their answer would always be a resounding no, even if they wanted to scream yes.

Society survived on the dark desires of humans. Alcohol, drugs, smoking, sex; all of it was looked down upon yet Hannah saw everyone do at least one of them on a constant basis. Garnet's Lake might dress up for church in their Sunday best, but after dark was another story. After dark was when Hannah knew the people of her town were truly themselves, even if it was behind locked doors. She'd always wondered what each of them did, and how it might show on their faces if she asked.

The way the town avoided Hannah was proof enough of their delectable sins. They avoided her in hopes of hiding what they truly wanted; to be like her. They all wanted to be as free as she was about her feelings, but that thought only made Hannah question her own honesty. She thought of Dane and a chill rolled over her skin at the thought of touching him. Touching him in the alley however... She sighed as she sat down on her couch, the lights off in her apartment.

The town was jealous, and that included Martin. Martin was only determined to catch the killer to further her own career and get out of Garnet's Lake for good. In a way Hannah wanted to find the killer first just so Martin didn't.

The sound of shuffling paper caught Hannah's attention. She turned towards her door as a thin white envelope slid beneath it, sweeping across the hardwood until it met the kitchen tiles. Hannah stood quickly, recognizing the red ribbon that wrapped around the paper. She rushed to her door but by the time it opened she was alone. She knew there was no point in chasing a ghost down the hall because she wouldn't catch up.

She kept a cool exterior in case anyone was watching, namely her neighbour. Chuckles was clicking his nails across the tiles on the other side of the door, and apparently tired of growling at Hannah. It was odd that he didn't growl at whoever was out here seconds earlier, making Hannah think the person that dropped the letter off was familiar to him. Of course, in this town anyone could be familiar with the dog.

Which left Hannah with the only option of reading the letter. As she turned back, she realized she couldn't assume what was in the envelope was a letter, but she found it a safe assumption. The killer's first gift went unopened, so maybe this was delivered to her home on purpose. Maybe it was a threat...

Hannah made sure to shut her door before picking up the envelope. It was light and carefully wrapped, immaculate even; just like the small gift box. But there was a small lump on one corner, the only imperfection.

Hannah leaned against the kitchen counter and turned the envelope around, pulling at the red ribbon. It fell onto the counter, a soft hush as it brushed against the marble.

In one swift movement Hannah ripped open the top. She knew if she didn't do it quickly it would only taunt her more.

She expected a gift, something small and nice that the killer wanted her to have. Instead she pulled out an earring, a small clean pearl. She observed it in the evening light, recognizing it instantly. It was Mariana's.

Straightening her back Hannah no longer felt relaxed. Her heart had skipped a beat and there was a distinct chill over her skin. She was right in the sense that the killer wanted her to have this, but it wasn't a gift.

Right? Hannah questioned it, unsure. People that did what this person did had strange ways of sending messages, didn't they? Her lips pursed harder together as she yanked out the paper inside the envelope, carefully setting Mariana's earring on the counter.

Unease rarely settled over Hannah. It had barely been there after she'd killed Belleveau, and even when Mariana and her parents had decided she was no longer deserving of their love. She'd gotten angry over that, but this...this taunt against her made her furious. But it made her feel something else too.

Nervous.

Hannah scanned the letter with care:

Tonight at 0000 hours in the church. I'll show you what a true friend is.

Hannah blinked at the black ink words. Not a threat, she mused with a smirk. An invitation.

The paper fluttered as Hannah flipped it back and forth, checking for any clues as to where it came from but finding nothing. Plain white paper with plain lettering...the only clue was the ribbon. It was stamped with the same little logo that was hanging over a small shop in the centre of town. A shop only the locals knew about.

"So you're one of us," Hannah mumbled. One of her own. She shifted her jaw in thought. Her anger dwindled at the thought of someone she grew up with being the one behind this, and she thought they would have come out and talked to her. What was the point of hiding behind ribbons and gifts?

They held all the power, or at least they thought they did. Hannah felt they were being a coward—embracing the darkness but hiding it at the same time. Smart, but dishonourable in her eyes.

Still, a slight against Mariana, no matter how disloyal the woman was, was a slight against herself. Hannah had no choice but to follow the instructions and do exactly as the killer wanted.