Dr. Gretchen White, Book Two
PROLOGUE…
Blood wasn’t sticky like Gretchen had thought it would be.
It was warm and slick and thin, and something in her brain told her to bring her fingers to her mouth to taste it.
Her aunt, Rowan, watched her from the bed, her lips moving. No sound came out.
Gretchen knew she should be calling for her mother, knew she’d get in trouble if she was found here holding the knife that had turned slippery in her hand.
But Gretchen couldn’t step away, couldn’t look away.
The moon was so bright that Gretchen could easily see the wounds left behind. Rowan’s stomach, her chest, they were torn open.
Gretchen inched forward, fingers hesitant but curious. Something gurgled in the back of Rowan’s throat and Gretchen wondered if it was more blood, if Rowan was trying to tell her to stop.
It didn’t matter. Rowan couldn’t say anything anymore.
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