The Devil In Disguise

CHAPTER 16: Live And Let Live

How did he find me?
When did he find me?
Had I been stupid enough to think that maybe, this one time, I was disguised enough and hidden from his eye?

It looked like it.

Balls of terror and anxiety spasmed in my guts the more I thought about his note.

Katy's hair. That was the only thing I had left of her. And it was taken forcefully by him — before he killed her.

I guessed there was no point in keeping up my disguise anymore. He'd found me. I'd have to move again, and create a different disguise. But first, I'd have to give the evidence to the police.

I turned round in a daze and rummaged around on the grass half-heartedly, searching for the camera and the notes. The pouch with Katy's hair was in my hand and all I needed were those other two things; enough evidence to let me move to a different place again.

I felt like crying. I didn't want to move away. I'd finally made friends and even met a boy I thought I slightly liked — but I guessed I'd have to let them all go. It was luxury or life and I'd choose life. I had escaped death too many times and I wasn't going to give that up just to be happy. How ridiculous.

I don't know when I'd finally realised I'd been searching for quite a few minutes.

My heart jolted and my eyes opened wide as another fearful surge of adrenaline was sent through my body. Hands shaking, I got on my knees and search every nook and crevice around me, under grass, behind it, behind plants, on the brick wall —

Nothing.

The polaroid camera and the notes were gone.

My breath catching in my throat, I hastily stood up, stumbling. For those to be gone, someone had to be in the garden to take them. What if he was less than twenty metres away from me?

With Katy's little hair bag in my hand, I got up in a dizzy haste and sprinted in my dress back to the garden doors, back into the safety of Xander's house. At least I still had the pouch, and this was the only point I was thankful to him. He'd ripped the strands out of her head so they'd still contain the hair follicles; the only part of her hair with her DNA. That was enough evidence — the authorities would know that he contacted me. He was the one who killed her, so it would make sense that he had a piece of her, as small as it was.

Panting, I leaned on the kitchen counter. Everyone was in the other room, still drunk, dancing and laughing and partying. They were clueless of how much had changed in the past ten minutes.

Dragging myself up to the living room, I invisibly looked at everyone. I'd only been here for a bit more than a month, yet I had already grown fond of these faces.

Turning away in sadness, I walked to the front door of Xander's house, ready to leave —

"Where are you going?"

My guts squeezed and I stopped breathing, my hand freezing on the door handle.

Turning slowly, my dark eyes met Xander's light ones and I memorised how they looked, scoffing internally at how hopeful I'd been. You should have known. You have no future with any of them.

"My mum wants me home," I lied through my teeth. His face became unreadable as he said, "Tell me the truth. Are you not enjoying the party or something?"

"No, I am, it's just —"

"What?"

"It's an emergency," anger seeped through my tone. He was putting me on the spot and he knew it.