Vincent’s head had already disappeared. She didn’t want to be alone. It was dark, and there was an awful smell. It smelled like old dirt, wet leav...s, weeds, and something else. Something worse. A cold, black smell. The kind of smell that she imagined that shadows would have if they had a scent.Tears were starting to streak down her cheeks. She wouldn’t bawl, she was eight years old and she believed her dad when he said that eight-year olds don’t bawl.Don’t cry.The voice surprised her. She. “You invited me over here for a reason, didn’t you?” I asked him, not feeling quite brave enough to initiate.“I’m in no rush,” he told me, taking a sip from his glass and moving over to the balcony. “Come on. You should see how amazing the view is.”I walked out the door, joining him as he looked over the city.“San Muerte. It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?”“From a distance.”He looked over at me, trying to read my expression. “You don’t like it?”“It’s just boring,” I told him, honestly.Carter. More

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