The House on Willow Creek
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Summary
The first time I came home, my adopted sister killed herself. The second time, my brother killed me.
He did it in the old family crypt, the air thick with the smell of dust and decay. He was screaming, his face twisted with grief. “Bella would still be here if you hadn’t come back! You took her from me!”
His hands were strong, the blade of the hunting knife cold against my throat. I remember the gush of warmth, the sudden, shocking inability to breathe, and the sight of my parents watching from the doorway, their faces blank with a kind of horrible relief.
