Nothing to Fear (55 page)

“Of course you do. She’s calling you, Cynthia. It’s what you deserve. Go to her. End it. End it now.”

“But . . .” Tears welled, spilled. “But . . .” she whispered.

“Do it, Cynthia. She’s dead and it’s your fault. Go to her. Do what you should have done years ago. Take care of her.”

“Come, Cynthia,” Melanie ordered, her voice again adult and full of authority. “Come.”

Cynthia dropped the phone, backed away, wearily now. I’m tired. So tired. “Let me sleep,” she whispered. “Please let me sleep.”

“Come to me,” Melanie whispered back. “Then I’ll let you sleep.”

Melanie had promised it so many times. So many nights. Cynthia turned and stared at the window. Dark night was outside the glass. But what else? Sleep. Peace.

Peace.