Chapter XXXV

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Mom blinks at me. "I can't believe it. How didn't I think of this before?" She mutters and buries her face in her hands, groaning in frustration.

I sigh, "I've had three to four encounters with the statue before, which is why I'm telling you all of this."

Mom lifts her head to glance at us, suddenly looking more tired than usual. "When I talked to Ashton about my experiences, we both realized how right I was about the statue. She wants to hurt people."

The fear rises in my chest, and the blood drains from my face; I know where this is going, and I don't like the sound of it.

"Why didn't you say something before if you knew that?" Josh asks.

I'm sitting at the edge of my seat, clutching the chair handle so tight with my hands, my knuckles turn white. Mom and dad exchange nervous glances, silently communicating with each other, debating if they should tell us something I knew would put us all in danger even though we have the right to know.

Dad takes a deep breath and says with an expressionless face. "The statue knows what we talk about and what we do, almost as if it obtained the sense to listen and see."

My heart dropped to my stomach, and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding.

Josh and Mason's eyes widen, and they whip their heads to look at me in realization. They look at me questioningly as if asking this is what I was hiding from them earlier, and I hesitantly nodded, hating to even admit it. Apology fills their eyes, but I shrug it off, not wanting to deal with that right now.

Gabby looks at me with her hard hazel eyes. "That's why you ran off to find your dad when we talked about this. You knew."

I nod but quickly add, "I just realized at that moment. You know why I couldn't tell you guys."She nods, her eyes filling with understanding. "Of course, I get it. Mason is the stupid one for not understanding you do everything for a good reason."

I send her a closed-lip smile, and she smiles back in assurance before we turn back to our parents.

Dad's solemn gaze shifts to me. "The statue is full of so much strength and power, Emma-""Alright, we need to stop referring to the statue as 'statue,' you guys," Ethan interrupts, and air quotes the word 'statue,' We all blink at him. Was he serious?

When none of us say anything, Ethan uses our silence to continue, "We can honestly come up with a more creative name than that. It sounds boring." Groans and curses go around the room as we glare at Ethan, who's officially lost his mind.

"Are you serious, man?"

"Ethan, how dumb are you?"

Mason thwacks his head and scowls, "Now isn't the time, you idiot."I consider Ethan's words for a moment before saying, "He has a point."

Everyone, including my parents, snapped their heads to look at me like I lost my mind.

Dad stares at me with incredulity. "You can't be serious."

"If the statue knows about our conversations assuming it can actually hear us, then we need a code word for it if we're going to talk about it. We'd be in danger otherwise." I quickly add.

My friends and parents all look at each other, contemplating my words before agreeing with me, telling me they liked my idea.

"I think that's the safest way we can talk about the statue," Mom admits while stealing a glance at me, her eyes twinkling with pride before she masks it, and I smile a little, finding it a little hard to believe that she is happy with something I do or say.

Ethan gloats, crossing his arms over his chest, triumphantly. "See? Thanks to me, we're going to be safe."

Gabby rolls her eyes and shakes her head at Ethan. The only reason you suggested that because it would be less boring for you."

Ethan simply sticks his tongue out like a little child as a response, and Gabby scoffs.

Mason ignores their bickering and asks what we should call the statue while picking up the water bottle from his lap that he must've bought and takes a sip. Everyone falls into a thoughtful silence, trying to think of a good name.

After a moment, I look at Ethan for ideas since he came up with having a name for the statue. "E? What do you think?

Ethan looks at me thoughtfully, tapping his nose with his index finger. "How about Weeping Fark Labyrinth? Or Max Von Stein? My personal favourite is the Maniac Weenie."

Mason chokes on his water, "Did you just say Fart Labyrinth?"

Ethan face palms himself, "NO! Are you deaf? I said Fark, not fart. Get your names right."

Josh sighs, growing tired of Ethan's nonsense. "We're not making up names for a fucking banshee, Ethan. Name your newborn children that."

Ethan rolls his eyes and goes to protest, "Those aren't even banshee names! If you want banshee names, I have-"

"Shut up!" Josh, Mason, Gabby and I say together in annoyance, and my parents just stare at us in confusion. They definitely think I'm friends with mental people.

Ethan huffs and stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest again, looking like a child whose parents denied to buy him chocolate and mutters under his breath about not letting him have a creative say in a conversation.

We then fall into the familiar silence when Gabby suddenly speaks up and suggests, "How about Diabolus? It means devil in Latin."

Ethan slowly but dramatically turns his head to stare at Gabby with wide eyes. "Gabs, did you just say diabolic or diabetes?"

I roll my eyes at him. Only Ethan would take a stupid meaning out of the smallest things.

Gabby shoots daggers at Ethan, her hazel eyes narrowed into slits. "I said I was going to wear your skin as pyjamas if you don't shut up."

Ethan places a finger on his lips and smiles, and Gabby scoffs, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time.

Mom ignores them and says, "How about Malvada?"

Gabby beams. "That works perfectly!"

"What does that mean?" I ask, looking between Gabby and my mom.

Gabby turns her head to look at me. "It translates to evil in Spanish." She explains.

I nod, agreeing with the name, and everyone else agrees as well. It suits the angel statue perfectly.

"So, from now on, we call the angel statue Malvada, and because it looks like a girl, we can use she/her pronouns," I clarify, and everyone nods along in agreement.

Dad exhales loudly, growing slightly frustrated. As if spilling the dangerous truth about the statue isn't enough, dad's gaze shifts to me, and he solemnly says, "Anyway, Malvada is full of so much strength and power, which is why we're about to tell you something else that your mother and I hid from you and Clarice."

I rise a little in my seat, bracing myself for another wave of shock. Dad encourages mom to tell the story, and she takes a shaky breath before saying, "The day Claire told us about Emma's choking dream, I woke up in the middle of the night to get some water. On my way to the kitchen, I heard faint whispers and saw this familiar smoke before the lights began to flicker on and off. The whispers were different voices, some of them deep and some high-pitched. They got louder and louder until their whispering turned into shouting, and then this inhuman voice spoke up saying that-"

Mom clasps her hand over her mouth to prevent a sob from escaping, indicating her story is about to get much worse. My stomach is locked up tightly with dread, nothing getting in or out, my heart thumping heavily against my chest as I wait for mom's next words.

Weeping Angel: Malvada (Book 1 of the Weeping Angel Series)Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora