Momma's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

Momma still held the purple scrap when the guests broke. They scattered through the halls, shouting, slamming doors. She counted heads by force of habit. Kaylee against the wall. Waffles by the kitchen. Toast under the archway. Then she saw the gap. SilverMist was gone. Momma knew her. SilverMist had joined Plot Twist young, a girl with green eyes and a diamond necklace that spelled her own name, ink running down one arm. She trusted Momma more than she trusted herself. Now she was somewhere in this house alone, and the killer was still moving. "Find her," Momma said. She grabbed Waffles by the sleeve. "You watch people. Where did she go?" Waffles pushed his sunglasses up. "Toward the water, man. She ran scared. Scared people run to open space." Momma ran for the pool. Her heels cracked on the tile. Drew caught up beside her, chain swinging, breath fast. "I'll take the far side," he said. She let him. One more set of eyes. The pool room was huge, the water still and blue under the lights. Momma scanned the steps, the deep trim, the surface. Nothing floated there. Her chest loosened one notch. Then she heard it. A small sound behind the pump housing at the far end. SilverMist crouched there, knees drawn up, shaking. Alive. Momma reached her and pulled her up by the shoulders. "I saw someone," SilverMist whispered. "By the kitchen. Before the scream. A shape. Cutting something." Momma's grip tightened. This was a witness. A real one. "What did they cut?" "Cloth. Purple. Off you." SilverMist's green eyes filled. "I didn't see the face. I ran." Drew reached them, hands open, calm. "She okay?" "She's fine," Momma said. "She saw the killer cut my dress." Drew nodded slow. Something crossed his face and left. Momma marked it and let it pass. She had the girl. That was what mattered now. She walked SilverMist back through the halls herself, one arm around her. She would not let this witness out of her sight. She had feared she was hunting a third body. Instead she had found a living pair of eyes. But the eyes had seen almost nothing. A shape. A blade. No face. The killer had cut Momma's dress in front of a witness and still stayed hidden. That told Momma something colder than a clue could. The killer had watched SilverMist run and let her live. Because a scared girl with half a memory pointed nowhere. Momma sat SilverMist down and knelt in front of her. "Tell me everything you remember. Slowly." The girl started to talk. Behind them, the guests gathered again, quiet now, watching Momma hold the one person who had seen the killer at work. And every one of them wondered what SilverMist would remember next.