Ghost Silk (Ghost Perfume, Book 2) | ✔

20 - Choose me - Part 1

Rose

The last bell rang. The hallway became emptier of people till I was the only one left.

I waited for Kimberly by her locker.

Just as I thought she might not appear, she shuffled into view, dragging her backpack by one strap.

She stopped as soon as she saw me.

"Hi, Kimberly."

Her face hardened. "Get away from me, you stalker."

She aggressively opened her locker, her face turned away. To my delight, I saw she wore the braided cotton-thread bracelet that I left on her desk in third period. I'd seen her pick it up and admire it, and glance around to see if it belonged to anyone, before she slipped it in her pocket.

"How's John's camera?"

"You're going to pay for a new one," she hissed, pulling books out. "You broke it."

"You know I see your jealousy, right? I'm sick of it. It's not cute when you're choking on your envy. And cutting my hair off and generally losing your head."

She slammed her locker closed and spun to walk away.

"Stop," I said.

She turned to stone.

I moved around to face her.

She was going to be my guinea pig. I'd been content to slowly figure out who I was and what I could do. Let the truths come to me.

But it was time to explore more intentionally.

If my thread in the heart of a revenant could control them ...

If my silk in the hair of a Wischet could control them ...

Then who knew what my silk, braided through the bracelet on Kimberly's wrist, might do.

To test it, I wanted to give her an order she would truly not want to follow.

"I'm thinking of bringing a sexual assault case against John," I said conversationally. "And maybe you. But definitely John. There were cameras in that bedroom that I didn't break."

"No there weren't."

"While I was passed out, he told you to take my shirt off. I saw it. He said, 'Make it sexier'." I mimed gagging.

"You slapped me and broke his camera," she said weakly.

"But somehow I'm guessing I didn't break the SD card, right? He's still got the photos? Answer me with the truth." By accident, metal slipped into my voice.

"Y-yeah, the photos are fine." Confusion grew in her expression. Confusion at her own fear.

I struggled to keep the dark resonance out of my voice. I hadn't wanted to use my voice – it would make her suspicious – I'd never lost control of it like this.

I locked down my muscles and gritted out, "Sometime before the end of this weekend, take all his photos, any files and any digital or physical copies he made at all for photos for the last three years, and destroy them. Do not tell him about it until they're destroyed. If you do, then I won't press charges."

She didn't say she couldn't do it. "That's his art," she argued instead, white-faced, and I guessed she knew how to access his photos.

"If it really is, then he'll make new art," I said. "He'll keep going."