The Bite

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 "Why didn't you tell me?" asked Scarlet. She frowned hard at Peter as if she could will his bones to break.

"I love surprises," he replied, shrugging. Peter brushed past her and through the swinging door into the kitchen.

Scarlet stomped after him, glaring at the back of his head as he reached into the back of the refrigerator and retrieved a beer. He popped the lid off, raising his eyebrows and tipping it toward her. She shook her head.

"Speak."

Peter scoffed and took a long, satisfied drink from the brown glass bottle. He stared at the label as he smacked his lips.

"No," he said.

"I want to know—"

He held up his hand, gesturing her to stop talking. "Why don't you go sit and talk with Penny. She can clear things up for you while I take care of your little boyfriend in there."

Scarlet had nearly forgotten about Adrian and the severity of his wounds.

"He's not my boyfriend." She spun around, her heavy hair twirling like a poodle skirt as she did, and went back through the door.

Cameron and Ben were helping Adrian to the sofa. He lowered himself onto the cushions and collapsed onto his back with a groan. He was shirtless and covered in blood, his face swollen and bruised. Scarlet stood glancing between his broken body and the pale, emotionless statue of Penny beside her.

Peter entered the room with his arms full of bundled herbs. He crouched down next to Adrian and untied the DIY bandages one by one.

Oskar was peeking over the top of his book, his smoky blue eyes stopping on Scarlet. He laid the book gently on the coffee table and came toward her with a strange, almost ghostly swagger.

"He's in good hands," said Oskar. He placed a reassuring, warm hand on Scarlet's shoulder, and nodded toward the front door. "Take Penny out to the porch, have a chat. I'll bring some sandwiches, I'm sure you're starving."

From the corner of her eye, Scarlet could see Fiona roll her eyes and stalk away down the hall.

Penny sat in one of the rotting wicker chairs on the front porch of Peter's uncharacteristically adorable cottage. Her knees were pulled up to her chin and she hugged her legs tightly as she rocked the chair back and forth.

Next to her, Scarlet observed Penny with concern, a half-eaten ham sandwich in one hand and a second sandwich in the other. She'd never seen her best friend like this; so quiet and pained looking, so lost and confused, almost afraid.

"Are you okay?" Scarlet asked, her cheeks full of food.

Penny looked at her as if she'd forgotten Scarlet was there. "Hm?"

She swallowed. "You seem, I don't know, distracted. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Penny replied. But then she frowned, thought about it for a second. "Actually, no. Maybe. I'm not sure."

"What happened to you that night?" Scarlet asked. "I woke up in the hospital and the police told me you were dead." She finished the first sandwich and started in on the second.

"I don't know." Penny picked at her cuticles.

"Penny, I know it's hard. I know this is all unusual and difficult to digest, but... you have to talk to me. Please. I've missed you so much."

Scarlet stared at her, waiting to see some sign that her Penny was still in there, somewhere, hidden inside the pale, despondent stranger next to her. As Penny looked back at Scarlet, it was as if she were gazing right through her rather than at her.

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