Pretty When She Dies

prologue

I wish it hadn't happened this way.

That is the first thought that comes to me whenever I think about that night.

I wish I had stayed home. I wish I had ignored the message. I wish I had listened to the small voice in my head telling me that something was wrong.

Most of all, I wish I had never opened the door.

People always say that they would do anything to change the past. I used to think that was something people only said because it sounded good. Something dramatic to say when they were remembering a mistake.

Now I understand.

If I could go back, I wouldn't care about changing everything.

I would only change one night.

One decision.

One moment.

Because that one moment turned my entire life into something I barely recognize anymore.

Sometimes I still wonder what would have happened if I had simply kept driving.

Maybe I would have gone home.

Maybe I would have climbed into bed, turned off my phone, and fallen asleep without ever knowing what was waiting for me.

Maybe everyone would still be alive.

That's the part I can't stop thinking about.

Everyone.

I remember the house exactly as it was that night.

The trees were completely still, even though I could hear the wind moving through the woods behind me. The porch light flickered above the front door. One of the upstairs windows was open, its curtains moving slowly in the darkness.

The strangest thing was that the house didn't look abandoned anymore.

It looked awake.

Waiting.

I should have walked away.

Instead, I walked toward it.

The first knock came from inside.

I froze.

Then came the second.

I remember looking over my shoulder, expecting to see someone standing behind me.

There was nobody.

The road was empty.

My car was still parked by the gate.

The entire world seemed silent.

Then came the third knock.

That's when I heard my name.

"Mara."

I wish I could explain what it feels like to hear someone call your name when you know you're completely alone.

It doesn't sound like a normal voice.

It sounds familiar.

Too familiar.

Like someone you love.

Like someone you've known your entire life.

That's why I answered.

That's my first mistake.

I stepped inside.

I can still remember the smell of the house. Dust, old wood, and something I couldn't identify. The hallway stretched farther than it should have, disappearing into darkness.