Page 7 of The Bitter Words

“What kinds of things does she say?”

“She still thinks she’s somehow responsible for losing the baby.” My heart aches. I tap on it with my fist to release the misery that’s stuck inside.

We sit in silence for a moment as my thoughts travel through the past seven months. I remember something that pegs me between the eyes. A realization that I completely forgot about.

“Guns, you told me once you’d tell me about Livianna and why she says things like she killedher.You never finished your story.”

His contemplative gaze scrolls over my face. “It’s nothing but a stupid, obsessive lie she can’t get rid of.”

“Yeah, but it causes her to act in ways and believe things that are really fucked up.”

He rolls his eyes and relents. “Fine.”

“Does that mean you’ll tell me who this girl is that Lily is convinced she hurt?”

He pushes his food away and scowls. “Her name is Lehlani Rose.”

“Who’s that?”

“A ghost that lives inside of Livianna’s head. A chick who doesn’t exist.”

My brain tries to make sense of it but can’t.

I shake my head. “I’m confused.”

“You and me both.”

“Explain.”

“If I tell you, promise me you’ll never speak to anyone about it. Not even Livianna.”

“You have my word. Bro code to the extreme.”

He glances around the bus cabin. It’s early and everyone is still sleeping, so it’s only us and the driver. He has headphones on.

I highly doubt he’s listening to two teenage boys who think they know more than he does because he constantly avoids interacting with us. I would too if I were him. We can be downright crude and annoying.

Bren faces me, his expression heavy with concern. “One day I got high with Livianna. She started rambling about this Lehlani Rose person. Liv said she talks to her, telling her she was first and that Livianna’s life isn’t the one that should be here. It freaked me the fuck out.”

“So Lehlani Rose is…?”

“A figment of Livianna’s screwed up imagination. Lehlani Rose isn’t real.” He lowers his head and his entire body shrinks. “I think Livianna might have some kind of legitimate mental health issue.”

“No.” My stomach hollows. “That can’t be. Lily’s perfect and we all have strange thoughts. Especially when we’re high.”

“If it’s just a fleeting weird thought”—he lifts his piercing gaze to mine—“then why was that when she started cutting on herself?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug in confusion. “How long ago was this?”

“On her fourteenth birthday. I got us some weed to celebrate. My parents had a small party for her and when it was over, they went to bed. We snuck downstairs and smoked.”

“Maybe she hallucinates when she does pot. Some people do, you know?”

“I’ve thought about that.” He picks up his phone and stares at it. “Maybe she does, but ever since that night, she’s cut on herself, had panic attacks, and acts as if she’s indestructible, all while doing things that could really hurt her. Sometimes she scares me.”

My heart thumps with his reveal. His explanation is far from what I thought. I’m at a complete loss.

The conversation I had with her pops about her committing suicide races to the forefront of my mind. Adrenaline spikes up my spine.