“They were both victims,” Luke replies. “Melanie didn’t know Isabel could die from an allergic reaction. She didn’t realize there were traces of peanut in the cookies she baked.”
“Isabel survived so much to die like that. She escaped from an abusive home in the hope of finding her sister, and then she meets Jeremiah.” I clear my throat but my voice still breaks. “Do you really think they believed they were saving her?”
“I think so. When Jeremiah found her, she was begging in the streets.” Luke’s voice is soothing. He kisses my cheek. “Do you want me to read the other part?”
“Okay.”
“Dear Diary,
“Tessa’s here. She’s arrived. She doesn’t believe me and the way she looks at Jeremiah scares me. She’s my sister and I love her so much. I want us to all be saved. And we might all be saved soon.
“What happened in the trailer…with this woman…it scares me…but I need to trust Master Abram. I need to trust the Circle like I trust Jeremiah.
“Jeremiah’s my family too. Like Tessa. I’d do anything for him and for her.
“Anything.
“I want them to be happy.”
“I wanted her to be happy too,” I whisper, and Luke lets go of the book and hugs me tighter. “I wanted her to leave with me and jump.”
“She couldn’t leave him behind. Abram broke them. He broke my mom. He was the one who was responsible for all of this. Not Mellie. Not Jeremiah. Jeremiah tried to save her. He saved you and Lacey. He needed help.” Luke kisses my cheek again. “I believe Mellie tried to save Jeremiah. She tried to take him with her.”
“I should have stayed and helped her.”
“She wanted you to be safe too. She wanted you to live too,” he whispers in my hair. “She loved you so much.”
We don’t talk about his mom. He believes his mom would have saved Lila and Lacey, but not him…because he reminded her too much of the man who’d broken her heart, because he was always arguing. I don’t believe it. She died because she wanted to rescue us.
But we both do our best to move forward, to live, to enjoy the little moments others may take for granted because we know how fleeting those moments are. Some days are harder than others. Some days we both want to curl back into bed and forget the world even exists, but we both have help and goals.
And we lean on one another too.
I settle against his chest and close my eyes.
Tomorrow, I’ll write a goodbye letter to Melanie and I’ll stick it between the pages of her diary. But today, I’ll take a deep breath and think about how much Melanie loved me, how much she wanted me to live and love.
And I will.
And I do.
THE END
Thank you for reading!
Dear Readers,
Thank you SO MUCH for picking up SEE ME, SEE ME NOT. I know you have the choice between a loooooot of books and I’m grateful you chose mine.
I cross my fingers you enjoyed it.
If you have a few minutes, don’t hesitate to leave a review.
And don’t hesitate to contact me. You can chat with me on my Facebook group Elodie’s Cozy Nook, where I share exclusive excerpts and hold regular giveaways. I also hang out on Instagram or on Twitter.
And I love getting emails from readers: [email protected]
Thanks again!
Elodie
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing is hard. Writing a novel isn’t easy. I doubt myself. I doubt my writing. Sometimes, it flows. Sometimes, it doesn’t. At. All. But then, there are the celebrations: the moment I know I got one sentence right (yes, one sentence), or the moment I cry while revising because the characters are breaking my heart, or the moment I type “The End” for the first, second, third or fourth time.
And for all those moments: the tough ones, the happy ones, the ones in-between, I am very grateful for a lot of people.
My husband reminds me he believes in me on a regular basis. Those moments when I doubt myself, he’s the first one there. Whenever you think one of my characters is swoon-worthy? It’s thanks to him. He supports me and makes me laugh and so much more…He’d also like me to get a movie deal sometimes soon so if anyone reading those pages would like to offer me one: that would make his dreams come true
Katy Upperman and Riley Edgewood: thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You push me to make my books better and to not take shortcuts. You’re also encouraging and inspiring. And I’m so so so thankful that life brought us closer. Can’t wait for our next lunch date (which we’re currently trying to find a date for ).
Luke mentions in the book that he might try to build a time-machine. Which is great. But ideally, I’d need someone to build a teleportation machine. That way, I could spend more time with my family and friends in France and Germany (and those friends scattered around the world).
Living far from home isn’t always easy. So if any of you are reading those pages: first, thank you and then, I miss you.
Stephanie Parent, my copy editor, has been amazing as always in helping me shape this book. The very talented Lindee Robinson provided me with the perfect Tessa and Luke. Thank you to the cover models: Kelly Kirstein & Travis Bendall! Najla Cover Designs captured the essence of the book with the cover. Thank you!
To the members of my cozy nook on Facebook: thank you for all your help and encouraging words and support!
And to all of you who decided to give this book a chance, I can’t thank you enough.
<3
Sneak Peek
Have you already read Erin & Dimi’s story? If not…here are the first three chapters.
Fear Me, Fear Me Not
CHAPTER 1
Fear.
There’s something about fear. It’s intoxicating. The helplessness they feel. The adrenaline and need and wants it unleashes.
Fear rights the wrongs.
Fear is power.
And for once, I have all the power.
They’re never going to save them.
They’re never going to catch me.
They’re never going to understand.
CHAPTER 2 – ERIN
Here’s what we all know: Sometime this week or the next or the one after that, we will find another dead girl. Every year, a girl disappears, and every year, she’s found dead with an angel wing carved into her cheek.
And this year is no different.
Another girl disappeared.
Rachel Stine—former cheerleader captain—left her home last Saturday and no one has heard from her since. Despite the entire town searching every corner and her family’s pleas and all the psychics inundating the town claiming to know where she is, she hasn’t been found. Everyone holds on to the hope that she’s safe.
Some rumor spread that she ran away, that the killer hasn’t found his next victim yet, that he’s still on the hunt.
“Come on girls, we need to do this!” Shawna, our cheer captain, sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than us. She smooths her skirt, checks her cell phone again before dropping it behind her. “For Rachel!” This time, her voice doesn’t falter. Her dark hair is tucked in her ponytail and it bounces as she jumps, warming up. Her smile reveals the bronze glow of her cheeks, but her dark brown skin isn’t as flawless as in the school pictures. The circles under her eyes are more pronounced. She and Rachel were very good friends and she’s been fighting tears ever since we got to the stadium. Rachel prepared Shawna to become captain; she trained with her and took her under her wing when Shawna was a freshman and Rachel a sophomore.
“Let’s go!” Shawna struts to the front.
We take our usual positions for the first routine, waiting for the football team to enter the field.
The spotlights brighten the entire stadium, but they do a pretty poor job of hiding the fear rippling through the crowd. The smell of hot dogs wafts in the air, reminiscent of happier and carefree times, but the kids’ laughter isn’t as loud as usual. Parents keep a trai
ned eye on them, not entirely relaxed. If it weren’t for football, most people would have stayed at home. If it weren’t for football, Gavert City would be a ghost town the entire month of September. If it weren’t for football, we might all be at the lake, pretending nothing bad can happen to us while we’re all scared shitless.
Despite the adrenaline coursing through the crowd’s veins at the thought of winning another game, of snatching another state title, we can’t ignore the heaviness settling in the air.
People walk faster. They whisper more often. They spy on one another and make sure their doors are locked. Some people think they can play heroes. They organize their own neighborhood watch. They institute curfews.
Curfews that are not respected.
After school, some students throw “Face the Killer” parties. Saturday nights are spent telling scary stories and drinking or partying it up until we forget reality. Saturday nights are full of bravado and fuck-you attitude. They’re there to make it seem like we’re eternal.
But every year, a few weeks before the homecoming queen and king are crowned, it all changes.
The fear is almost palpable. The fear of losing someone. The fear of dying. Our community is on pause for several weeks, until a body is found.
My best friend, Nadia, stands next to me, shifting from one foot to another. Both of us are too tall to be top of the pyramid material, but we’re smaller than Kelly and Aliyah, so Shawna put us next to each other for the opening routine. Nadia glances at me and tucks her thin brown hair back in her ponytail. “How are you holding up?” she asks as quietly as possible.
“Okay.” I stretch my neck and rise on my toes. My gaze turns to the bleachers. Dad stands up with Caleb in the front. Mom stayed home again tonight, too tired to come out, too worn out to face the crowd. I force myself to wave at them, but my gesture is way too stiff for a cheerleader. The seats around him are empty. No one wants to be seen with him.
That’s why my heart swells when I notice Audrey’s blonde hair behind them. She’s talking to Caleb and smiling. Even though Audrey and I are competitors on the pageant circuit, she’s become one of my closest friends. Her mom used to forbid her from coming to football games, but she’s been a bit less strict in the past months. Audrey waves at us and settles down a few bleachers away from Dad and Caleb. She’s wearing her favorite dark blue top, the one that brings out her eyes. Carlos—the best wide receiver on the team—finally convinced her to come to a game and to the party afterwards. He seemed more nervous about her watching him play than the actual game.
Nadia leans in. Her familiar perfume, the one her mom gave her when she turned twelve, envelops me and calms my jitters. “They’re coming.” Her voice still holds that little piece of awe we both had when we first got into cheerleading.
The football players jog onto the field, and the crowd gets louder. I jump up and down with a smile stretched across my face like the rest of the cheerleading squad.
“Go, Tigers, go!” We scream and dance and shake our pom-poms. But…Nadia doesn’t jump as high, my cheer isn’t as loud, and the entire team seems to lack energy.
Shawna keeps on tilting her head to the side, staring at her phone on the grass, fighting tears. Ever since Rachel disappeared, we’ve all been on edge. Hoping against all hopes to find her alive.
The football players all wear a blue armband—not black, because everyone wants to believe that Rachel’s story will end differently than the other girls’.
My eyes don’t linger on the football players, though. They land right on this season’s assistant coach—Dimitri. He looks as good as when he used to be the star of the team: his navy shirt is tight around his broad shoulders, and his dark hair is perfect in that I’m-not-trying-too-hard messy way, but his frown is more pronounced than usual. He and Rachel dated on and off for a few months before his car accident. He’s been helping the volunteers from the search team every free moment he has, and he told me he’s been having issues sleeping. Part of me wishes he’d glance my way so I can give him a reassuring smile. But another part screams I need to protect my heart, because he’s already demonstrated he’s capable of breaking it. We’re friends. Nothing more.
Coach Miller wraps an arm around his shoulder and talks to him behind his hand. Ever since one team read an entire play on his lips, he’s been much more careful.
Nadia nudges me and gives me one of her exaggerated winks—the kind you can see from the back of the auditorium when she’s on stage. I’d believe her enthusiasm if her lips weren’t pursed into a thin line. “You’re supposed to cheer for the team, not my older brother.” Her lips turn up slightly and we both know we need to put our game faces on. People need this bright spot in the darkness. Friday night is a tradition. It’s the pride of our Texas town.
“Your brother is part of the team.” I stick my tongue out at her. There, almost natural.
Shawna dances to the front of the squad and music blasts through the speakers for our second routine.
Coach Miller takes long, purposeful strides to the middle of the field, his head high. The mic in his hand, he clears his throat. His voice, usually so strong, breaks. “Both teams will be at the organized search party for Rachel tomorrow morning at ten a.m., and we hope you can all join us. We’ll be meeting at City Hall. We may be rivals this evening, but we’re all together in our prayers to find Rachel alive. God bless!”
The silence on the bleachers is eerie. The entire crowd holds its breath.
The booming voice of the announcer resonates. “Ladies and gentlemen, please stand for our national anthem. It will be sung tonight by junior Tessa Gardner.”
Tessa steps onto the fifty-yard line with her eyes glued to the floor. Everyone rises up and Mrs. Gardner stands next to Rachel’s parents in the second row. She wipes tears away and is wearing a shirt she made when Tessa’s sister disappeared five years ago: a picture of Melanie with the words, Have you seen her? And the number 1800FINDMELLIE.
Melanie’s body was never found. The police believe she’s dead. They’re convinced that the Angel Killer got her too. That she was his third victim.
Tessa steps onto the fifty-yard line, and her clear voice singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” resonates and digs deep into our hearts. Nadia’s hand finds mine, and I grip Shawna’s. The entire cheerleading squad gathers together, and we stand united.
At the end of the song, a switch happens. Once the game starts, people focus on the ball, on winning, on anything that’s not the powerless feeling of not being able to change the course of events.
My body shivers despite the somewhat warm September evening. And my skin prickles, as if someone’s watching me. I shake away the uneasy feeling. At the football game, players may get most of the attention, but cheerleaders get some, too.
“Touchdown!” Nadia shrieks, and we go back on position.
And for the duration of the game, we try to bring joy and smiles to the town. If only for a short moment…
Sweat trickles down my neck to my back. We needed this win, and we got it. And we all hope our cheers had something to do with it.
“Good job, girls!” Shawna says while checking her phone again. “You did awesome. Don’t forget we have practice on Sunday and then super early almost every morning next week. We have to get ready for homecoming.”
She doesn’t wait for us to answer but hurries to the locker room.
Nadia wipes her forehead and hands me a bottle of water. Her red and white cheerleader outfit clings to her skin like my own does to mine. She fans her face with her hand. Her cheeks are flushed and her light brown eyes flicker back to the bleachers. “This was a strange game. The players gave it their all, and I think we did too. But I couldn’t help looking at Rachel’s parents and wondering how they felt, being there.” She chews on her lower lip in typical Nadia-fashion. Her mom tried to make her stop, but it’s been her coping mechanism every time she feels anxious or worried.
“Every single time a phone beeped, I thought someone
found her. I can’t imagine how they feel.” I take another sip of water.
Nadia tilts her chin to the right. “Your fan club is coming.” And butterflies do a billion jumping jacks inside my stomach. But it’s not Dimitri.
My little brother, Caleb, rushes to me. His dirty blond hair, similar to Dad’s, sticks in all directions and a big stain is splashed on the front of his Superman shirt. Probably chocolate ice cream if he convinced Dad to buy him one. He throws himself into my arms. I tumble back but catch him, spinning him around. He’s giggling and begging me to go higher and higher.
Instead, I slow down as my father gets closer. His hands are curled into fists by his side, and I struggle to take a deep breath, struggle to keep a smile on my face, struggle to not grab Caleb’s hand and go home without worrying about Dad. “Did you tell Dad you were coming to see me?” I whisper while Caleb hugs Nadia tightly. He loves spending time with her. Not only is she super patient, she always has a craft project for him. Last Sunday, they made balloon cars with a milk cartoon and a balloon.
“I did.” His tone is defensive but his sky blue eyes widen slightly like they do when he’s thinking hard. “M-m-maybe I did.” His stutter has gotten much better in the last year, but it still reappears when he’s a tad anxious. Like his asthma. That’s why I always keep an inhaler in my bag.
I hold his hand in mine. “It’s okay.”
Dad stops in front of us. The wrinkles in his beige slacks send a wave of unease down my spine. He always ironed his clothes. His hair has grown slightly, while he used to get a haircut every two weeks. Former students might not see the difference between this outfit and the one he wore to class every day, but those details are more signs that he’s spiraling down. Ever since the school put him on administrative leave, it’s hard to tell if he’s going to be in an okay mood or to be mad at the world.
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