The Last Spiritwalker by Liv Strom EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Liv Strom
- Language: English
- Genre: Occult Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 6.7 MB
- Price: Free
IN MY MIND, THE ravens tell me to fight back. Instead I huddle on the
bathroom floor, desperate not to upset my husband further. Still, Connor’s
practiced backhand throws me down, blood spattering the previously
spotless sink. He straightens his cuffs, ensuring there are no red spots on the
brilliant white as stars play before my eyes, and the birds continue to crow
in the tree outside. I imagine they cry for me.
“If that child messes with my clothes again, I’ll need to teach her a
proper lesson like I should have years ago,” Connor says as he turns, done
with me. “Remember the dinner with my parents next weekend. Make a
Last time the napkins had not been to his satisfaction. There was always
something. Luckily, all he needs from me now is silence, because when the
front door slams shut a few minutes later, his words still echo in my mind.
He threatened Alice. And meant it.
I’d been stupid, leaving the suitcase open as I packed for his business trip
and she had gotten into it, ruining the perfect creases. But despite the threat
I relax. I have four days of freedom while he travels. Four days to breathe.
When I finally pick myself up from the bathroom floor an hour later, only
the crows nesting in the tree outside disturb the peace. Their craws follow
me as I stumble out, like I don’t have enough demons haunting my steps.
But their cries pierce the numbness, and I imagine them my personal
cheerleaders, forcing me to move, calling for me to pull myself together.
Everything aches. Without a glance, I pass blinking Christmas
decorations, the plastic tree in the living room, and enter the stainless-steel
kitchen. Sinking to the floor, I take an ice cream carton from the freezer and
press it to my busted lip. The cold is a relief against my flushed skin.
Tentatively, I rotate my left wrist and some of the tension leaves me—
nothing broken this time. No hospital required. Grabbing a spoon, I open
the carton of ice cream. Strawberry. My Alice’s favorite. She will be home
from kindergarten soon.
We, the neighborhood mothers, take turns walking with the children. We
feed them, clothe them. Play with them. Still, he says that our daughter
belongs to him. And we carry his last name like a property tag, like the
tattoo on the inside of my wrist. Connor—even when I was young and
naive part of me had known I would never escape him. Alice stands in
cursive below, tying us together forever.
Time twists, my mind spins and I am unable to get up. How long have I
been sitting here?
The crows outside echo my desperation. I imagine a flock, a murder, in
the trees. Even that cannot calm me as the image of Connor finding me
sitting like this sends a new rush of fear through me and I stumble up,
straightening my blouse and putting everything back in its place. I know his
plane is already in the air, I saw the tickets and travel itinerary, but his ghost
haunts our townhouse.
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