The Devil's Tail - The Devil Chronicles Book One - ROUGH DRAFT

Chapter Twenty-Six

The desk was cleared of the missing dog posters, thrown recklessly into the waste bin. In its place was the dusty pink planner and a small calendar covered in stickers and notation. Marty ran her finger along the edge of the wicker, taking it all in.

"I can't believe my baby is all grown up," her mother threw her arms around her.

"Ah, watch it." She fell forward, catching herself on the desk chair.

"Oof, sorry. Are you sure those heels aren't too tall?" She glanced from the floor up to her daughter, feeling like she shrunk into an ant in a giant's castle.

"I'll be fine. Actually," she rummaged into the closet, "I still think these we got on sale earlier this year would be better." She kicked off the heels and strapped on a smaller, more manageable wedged bootie.

"I do like that pair," her mother sighed, "but wouldn't Emma be...upset? I thought you two were matching."

"Emma can get over it. Besides, she and I aren't exactly on best friends terms."

"But you're still wearing the same dress."

"It's a different color! Ugh. Mom, can you – ugh – zip me up?"

Her mother obliged. "You know, I really think you look beautiful and this necklace." She ran her hand along the silver chain and double checked it was secure. "It matches it perfectly."

"Thanks, Mom." Marty held fidgeted with the hollowed round pendant that hung from her neck.

"Now, are we still driving you or -- ?"

Marty glanced back down to her phone at the unread messages. Daniel. Emma. Rosie. Michael.

Shkeesha.

Levi.

She hadn't responded to anyone today – and for Shkeesha and Levi, it had been almost a week since she responded to them.

She slid open Emma's message, though she had already read it, but she wanted to read it again while her Mom was there.

There's still one extra seat in the limo

We'll be there around 5, maybe 4:30 if you respond

Help! We can't decide on dinner beforehand! Chelsea wants Olive Garden and Faye said we should do upscale

Oops, we don't even have a reservation

Okay, I'm calling now for a reservation. I'll put you down.. I guess

Marty smiled at her phone, then looked back up to her mom. "I got it. They still have a deal on a limo for the night, so y'all really don't have to worry about it."

"Well, can we at least take pictures? Isn't that why you got dressed early?"

Marty glanced back at herself in the mirror. The emerald dress touched the floor, covering her new choice in shoes, but it didn't matter anyway. Her eyes darted back to the plain, cheaply made silver necklace from JC Penny.

"We'll take pictures at the park. There's no need for you to go all out and take photos in front of our house." She cleared her throat and brushed past her mother, "I'm going to fix up my makeup in the bathroom. Excuse me."

"Alright, sweetie..."

Marty locked the door and listened for the footsteps to fade away into the living room.

She flung open the cupboard below the sink and reached behind the pipe.

There! Her hand gripped around the tiny box as she pulled it out into the fluorescent lighting. She glued her ears to the door once again and listening, counting every step and imagining every movement in her head with the floorplan.