Prelude to a Witch by Amanda Lee (best motivational books for students TXT) 📗

“We already told you that,” Emma added. “How would we know who killed her?”

“You’re her friends,” Hannah said in a soft voice. “It’s your job to protect her, even in death. There’s a predator out there. He might not stop with Paisley. We want to make sure you’re protected.”

Amelia snorted. “We’re not in any danger.”

I jerked my eyes to her. “How do you know?” I asked. “Unless you know who killed Paisley, you can’t possibly know that.”

“I don’t know who killed Paisley, but I know we’re safe,” Amelia replied. “We haven’t done anything to deserve being killed, so why would anybody want to kill us?”

“Why do you think Paisley deserved to be killed?” Hannah asked.

“I didn’t say she did.”

“You indicated that you hadn’t done anything worth being killed over. That seems to suggest you believe Paisley did something to earn her death.”

“I didn’t say that.” Annoyance burned bright in Amelia’s eyes. “Why are you putting words in my mouth? I would never say Paisley deserved what happened to her.”

Hannah regarded Amelia for a moment. “Okay, let’s start over. I fear we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“Or you could just go,” Amelia suggested. “We don’t have anything to talk to you about.”

Hannah ignored her. “What did you feel when you heard your friend was dead?”

“What do you mean?” Sophia asked. “How were we supposed to feel?”

“There is no right or wrong answer to the question.”

“I felt sad,” Emma volunteered, her bottom lip quivering. “I kept thinking about all the stuff we would never get to do together.”

“That’s quite normal,” Hannah encouraged, her eyes drifting to Sophia. “And you?”

“I didn’t really believe it,” Sophia said. “I mean ... it made no sense. We’d just seen her. I still don’t know that I really believe she’s dead.”

“Maybe you should go to the funeral home and take a look at her body,” Amelia suggested. “That will make you believe.”

“Is that what you did?” Hannah asked.

Amelia shrugged.

“Is it?” Hannah persisted.

“I might’ve gone down there last night,” Amelia replied. “They were just getting her body in. They didn’t want to show me, but I made them.”

“And what did you think about what you saw?”

“That her hair was a mess. She would’ve hated people seeing her with her hair looking like that.”

“The funeral home will make sure her hair is okay,” Hannah reassured her. “What else did you think?”

“That she looked like wax.”

“Is that the first time you’ve seen a dead body?”

Amelia shrugged again, noncommittal. “I saw my grandmother in the funeral home two years ago. She looked like wax, too, but a different kind of wax.”

“Paisley hasn’t been treated yet by the funeral home,” Hannah explained. “She’ll look more natural next time you see her.”

“That’s a weird thing to say.” Amelia let loose a derisive snort. “She’s dead and somehow that’s not natural. They’re going to pump chemicals into her and you think that will make her look natural. I don’t think that’s the case.”

Hannah pressed. “You don’t show much emotion, Amelia. None of you really do, but you’re being purposely cold. Why do you think that is?”

For the first time since we’d walked through the door, Amelia showed an actual emotion. Sure, it was annoyance, but it was a genuine feeling. For some reason, I was relieved to see it.

“What is it that you want me to feel?” Amelia demanded. “What emotion will make you feel better about our friend dying?”

“There’s no right emotion.” Hannah remained calm. “You don’t have to feel a specific way. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is the problem?” Sophie asked. “If we’re not supposed to react in a specific way, why are you giving us crap?”

“Because your friend is dead. She was killed in brutal fashion. Friends care about one another. I would expect sadness ... or even anger. I would expect confusion. I might even expect disbelief.”

“Well ... I guess you should arrest us then,” Amelia drawled. “We’re going to feel what we want to feel and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“Fair enough.” Hannah straightened and glanced between the girls one more time. “Am I to assume you still don’t know anything about what happened to her?”

“We know she was an idiot who brought this on herself,” Amelia replied. “If she’d been with us, this never would’ve happened. She took off on her own. She was messing with some guy she wouldn’t tell us about. That’s on her.”

“I see.” Hannah stood. “I’m sorry for your loss, girls. Whether you believe it or not, you’re going to have feelings about this eventually. I urge you to talk to a professional when those feelings bubble up.”

“Yeah. We’ll get right on that.” Amelia held out her hand to Chief Terry. “My remote please.”

Chief Terry slapped the device into her palm. “We’re not done here, girls,” he warned. “We will be back.”

“Next time leave the blondes and the old lady behind,” Amelia suggested. “Actually, you don’t have to come either. Send the hot FBI agent and we’ll be happy.”

Emma’s eyes sparkled. “So, so happy.”

Chief Terry grunted and then motioned us to the front door. I was almost out of the room before I realized Aunt Tillie had remained rooted to her spot. She hadn’t moved a muscle, staring at the girls.

“What are you doing?” I asked when I returned to her side.

“It’s like a movie,” Aunt Tillie noted, not caring in the least that she was talking loudly enough for the girls to hear. “They’re like Stepford teenagers.”

It wasn’t a bad description. “They’re grieving,” I said. “Nobody grieves the same.”

“I don’t know what they’re doing, but it’s not grieving.” Aunt Tillie met Amelia’s defiant stare for another few seconds and then moved with me toward the door. “That’s not grief, Bay. It’s something else.”

I waited until we were outside. “Well, now what? They’re not going to help us.”

“Definitely not,” Hannah agreed. She stood in the middle of the yard and stared at the house. “Those are the most emotionally