Do Not Disturb

by Freida McFadden

“Tell that to Christi...

My throat goes dry. What is she saying? Is she implying that Rosalie Baxter had something to do with the death of that girl in Room 201? But no. That’s ridiculous. Nick said that his wife is sick. She’s ill—she’s not going around murdering anyone. Of cours...

I shake my head. This is ridiculous. I’m going to be gone within the hour. I don’t need to think about Nick’s wife. And Greta is just trying to scare me. Nick said she had a flair for the dramatic. “It’ll be fine,...

The expression on the old woman’s face is unreadable. “Nice meet...

“She has MS. Multiple sclerosis.

Aww me too

“You should let me tell your fortune.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why not? You do not believe in it anyway. So do it f...

“So you use Tarot cards or a cryst...

“Those are just ornaments for putting on a show.” She taps her temple. “The...

“Did you tell Nick’s fortu...

She takes a bite of the ste...

“...

“Whatever happens during a session is private. But I will tell you this. He did not believe his fortune. And that was to his detriment. Also, I will tell you…” She leans in close enough that I can smell wine on her breath. “If Christina Marsh ...

“I think I’ll pass on the fortu...

She shrugs. “That is your choice. But even if you do not know your fortune, that does not...

“If you know your fortune, are you able to stop it? Or do you just have to try to look s...

“In some cases, people may alter their destinies,” she says. “But it is rare. Most people simply allow ...

Smart.

“Are you sure you will not let me read your fortune?”

I hesitate. It was a firm no before, but I’ve gotten to know Greta. I like her. And she seems to really want to do this. So why not?

“Okay,” I say. “Sure. Go for it.”

Greta smiles at me. “You will not regret this.”

“You must go!”

“What?” I stare at her uneasily. “What are you talking about?”

She takes a step back, like she’s almost afraid of me. “You go now. Y...

I stand up, my legs trembling beneath me. “You mea...

“I’m sorry.” She backs up again until she hits the wall. Or the mirror, as it were. “You must go now...

“Get out!” she shrieks. “You must go! Get away f...

The veins are standing out in her neck, and her eyes are bulging out in their sockets. I don’t even understand what’s happening. Why is she freaking out lik...

She called me Quinn. Somehow, she knew my name.

I take my bag and trudge back up the stairs. Despite his reassurances, something is telling me I’m making a horrible mistake by staying here.

Is she another Verity?? Like the only coho book I enjoyed.

But it couldn’t have been her. Nick told me she can’t even walk. She couldn’t have come over here, climbed up the stairs, unlocked the door to my room, scribbled in the Bible, then gone back home. It’s impossible.

“In other news,” the anchor says, “the body of thirty-four-year-old Derek Alexander was found last night in his home…” My chest turns to ice. What?

The police showed up here, just as I feared they would, but somehow I’m not being carried off in handcuffs. Nick covered for me. But that doesn’t mean I’m home free.

The kindness and concern in his eyes almost floors me. And before I entirely know what I’m doing, I lean forward and I press my lips against his.

Omg Quinn noooo

And then a second later the knife buries itself in my abdomen, between the open folds of my coat. I stare at it for a moment, watching the crimson stain spread across my shirt. And then everything goes black.

That’s yet another piece in the puzzle. Besides Derek’s iPhone, he also had a burner phone in his pocket. Scott claimed that just prior to his death, he was texting with another woman. Planning to meet her for a rendezvous at his house while he believed Quinn to be at work.

There is one thing on Quinn’s side here, and that’s the fact that I’m pretty sure Scott is still in love with her.

I don’t answer. Instead, I type in Derek’s birthday. And now I’m locked out.

“She did not leave.”

“So is she still here? Is she in room 201?”

“I did not say she is still here. I just said she...

“I read your sister’s fortune,” she says. “It was very dark. Her past was dark, and her future was even darker.”

“I’m talking about death,

Claudia. There was a death in her past and death in her future. And the worst part…”

“It was emanating from her.” Greta’s voice is a hiss. “Like a stench. Or a virus. Infecting everyone around her.”

“How do you know my sister didn’t leave?”

“Go outside. Go to Rosalie’s.”