Читать книгу Dying Breath - Wendy Corsi Staub - Страница 2

The girl screws the polish brush back into the bottle, leans back on her elbows, and extends her freckled legs into the air, waving her painted toes back and forth as if to dry them.

At this angle, with her head thrown back, her neck is plainly visible.

And, yes, hanging from a silver chain there is a black shark’s tooth.

So she got the little gift from a so-called secret admirer.

Does she have any idea who it’s from?

Ha. If she did, she wouldn’t be wearing it.

There she sits, clueless, unaware that her shameless masquerade is about to come to a close. There she sits, pretending to be someone else…

But I know exactly who she is.

Anger is beginning to seep in, along with a surge of adrenaline that makes it almost impossible to just stand here in the shadows and watch.

But it isn’t time yet.

Not tonight.

Tomorrow will come soon enough.

And then she’ll be mine.

Mine.