Dark Sacrifice Read Online Free PDF Page A

others stare into space and drool.
    Well, everyone except for the coffee-eyed woman who gives me the shivers. She stares, not into space, but directly at me, with a gaze so sharply focused that it feels like she’s carving through layers of my skin and muscle to peer into my soul.
    I don’t give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her presence. Staring is plain rude, and I don’t care if she’s insane. Rudeness via insanity doesn’t hold much weight with me these days. If she has a problem, then she needs speak like a big girl and tell me what it is. That’s what group therapy is for—to work on our issues.
    Dr. Rhys taps his pen on his notepad, an unconscious broadcast that he has a touchy question to ask. The cringe-worthy kind is his specialty. Did Kevin tell the doc about Landry dying? He promised to keep my secret. It’s hard enough pretending everything’s okay—that my life hasn’t broken into tiny, sharp pieces that no amount of superglue can stick back together—without being called on it in front of everyone.
    My chest tightens.
    Stop thinking about him.
    I glare at the rude girl seated in the chair across the circle from me. Her eyes look like raisins mashed into the dark hollows of her sunken sockets. Flesh stretches over her high cheekbones and angular nose, while black hair tangles about her shoulders. She could act as a double for the Disney Pocahontas, if the cartoon girl smoked crack cocaine. I despise everything about her from her dirty, bare feet to her black, holey jeans and stained T-shirt.
    Sharp pain throbs in my eyes, like the girl poked an invisible needle into my tear ducts with the power of her glare. If I blink, she’ll win the staring contest. Or worse. The tears in my eyes will overflow, and the whole group will see the pain I’m doing my best to hide. They’ll ask questions. Make me relive Landry’s death. I won’t be able to hold it together.
    The woman next to me jabs an elbow into my side. “Are you okay, Mala?”
    How long has Dr. Rhys been waiting for me to answer his question? Did I zone out longer than socially appropriate? Did I drool? “I’m sorry, Doc. Did you ask me something?” I run the tips of my fingers across my lips. My hand trembles. Can he see it from where he’s sitting?
    Dr. Rhys waves his pen in my direction. “Do you want to share with the group what your plans are after your release?”
    I blink at him, then glance around the circle. “I’m staying with Bessie Caine. She’ll pick me up tomorrow morning.”
    â€œIs she okay with helping you get to your counseling appointments? I want to make sure you continue with your progress on an outpatient basis.”
    She’d drag me to them by my hair if I refused. “She’s very conscientious—”
    â€œBitch!” Creepy Poca lunges forward. Her chair flies backward and crashes to the floor. I stiffen. She looms closer in my peripheral vision. Each step pounds with menace, as if she holds herself at a steady pace only through sheer willpower. Tension vibrates her body as she screams, “Don’t believe a word she says. She’s a lying bitch.”
    I glance at Dr. Rhys. He stares at me with a tiny frown, and I send a silent plea to him. Call one of the orderlies to escort this girl out! What’s his problem? Is he waiting to see whether I’ll beat her ass for disrespecting me?
    I inhale and exhale through my mouth. “Bessie will get me to my appointments.”
    The girl lunges forward and grips my shoulders with both hands, burning my skin despite the layer of clothing between us. Breath like rotting fish curls my nose, and my stomach clenches. I let out a high-pitch squeak and lean back in the chair, trying to put space between myself and what I now recognize as the spirit of a very pissed-off dead girl.
    Uncle Gaston, Mama, where are you? Help me.
    I grit my teeth so I