The Ghost Heiress: My Dangerous Double Life

mud with a wet slap, splashing black

watched the dirty water soak into the fabric,

ds jammed onto her hips. Her face was twisted, red patches b

ike dry wood. "Three months without a dime, Serena! You think we r

can dangling from his fingers. He took a swig, foam catch

," he muttered, wiping his mouth wi

n the dirt. They were two sizes too small, the elastic cutting into

t register job at the gas station

Her expression was a flat line. Her eyes were dark, empty pools tha

ked up the muddy bag not like a girl evicted from a trail

s of shouting, of the smell of stale beer and cigarettes, of

had said. Wait

," Serena

d her bac

er voice rising an octave. She grabbed the e

s ear, missing by an inch, and land

de. She raised her right

n

risp, cutting t

dden in the brush, J

O

nd her. The propane tank, rigged to look like a catastrophi

orange and black, consuming the pla

nging aftermath of the explosion. Tiffany scrambled backward, hands over her

the back of her neck, a stark contrast to the freez

ck, where the gravel met th

hed surface reflecting the flames like a dark mir

pped at th

with a stiffness that spoke of age but an agilit

ned th

voice low, respectful. "Mr. and

n's mouth hung open, wide enough to catch flies. Tiffany's

his shock. He took a step toward the car, mouth

chilling efficiency. He stuck out a foot

of hand-stitched leather filled her nose,

or. The silence was in

k device from her pocket. H

been... redirected. Welcom

er eyes. She inhaled deeply, holding the breath in her lungs, fe

k was gone. In its place was a softness, a v

rushing the beer can into the asph