Unfamiliar (Unfamiliar Series #1)

Chapter 35

"Kara, I am so sorry." 

I blink a few times, unable to put the words into meaning. I can only feel my breathing for a long moment, so much so that it becomes uncomfortable. All I can do is think about my breaths. Too much? Too deep? 

Am I going to pass out? 

I shake my head, the ringing in my ears was starting to hurt. 

Sorry? Why is everyone so sorry for me all the time? 

We were witches, and yet, we were still so powerless in the face of curses and death. 

Death.

I suppress a shiver as I remember Sophia's eyes locking onto mine for one last look before death claimed her. I don't think I'll ever forget it. I don't think anyone ever could. 

I press my hands together, counting my knuckle bones as I try to come back to the present.  

"I want to apologize, I wish that we were meeting each other on better terms," Officer Marshall says in a low voice as she sits across from me.

We're sat in a back corner of the secretary's office, Ms. Laroche having locked the door as she now sits at her desk swiveled around so she's facing us. An ornate cup of tea steams next to her, the cup intended for me. 

But right now, nothing is tempting for me to eat or drink.

The one thing I did accept from her is a heavy, woolen blanket that is currently draped across my shoulders. I've been shivering enough that my muscles feel sore and cramped, though it hasn't been from the cold.

Shock, Officer Marshall had assured me after she had retrieved me from the gymnasium that I had somehow stumbled off to.

Astrid had left when Officer Marshall had shown up, opting to speak with her uncle in private about this.

'This' being Sophia's apparent murder.

Another murder. 

Another death that I was witness to. 

Another time I couldn't do anything for anyone and they died. 

I don't know what to say to Officer Marshall, so I nod mutely.

"Kara...," Officer Marshall's chair squeaks as she shifts in it and lowers her voice further, "look at me."

I pause for a moment to gather a weak breath in my chest. I look up to see that she's leaned forward in her chair, her hands clasped in her lap. She's wearing a black turtleneck under her black coat, making her look pale and colorless as her hair is slightly mussed up. Her eyes are bloodshot and the little bit of mascara that she has on is smeared around her eyes, graying the skin of her lower eyelids. 

She looks defeated. 

I realize then that she has no solid leads and that she cares about the victims who have lost their lives.

And for what? Why were they murdered?

Is someone really after me and killing anyone in their way?

I hate the way that I feel after thinking the thought, but it won't leave me alone.

You shouldn't be here, you're putting people in danger. 

No one deserved to die. 

"I want to go home," I whisper. 

It's the first words that I've said, but it doesn't feel like I've said anything at all. The words are hollow and tasteless, like breathing out during a cold day and watching a vapor cloud fade. Officer Marshall's shoulders droop forward. Something flickers in her gaze before she files it away and nods.