Late that night Beverly sat up examining the strange book. She could have sworn that when Eddie brought it in the words were English, but now they were something else entirely.
Not only a different language, but the picture from earlier was now gone-replaced by what looked like a poem.
"What are you doing up still?" Willa appeared at the base of the steps, stretching as she spoke. "It's after midnight."
Bev shut the book and leaned back making the leather creak. "I don't know." She sighed, roughly rubbing her eyes. "Come look at this." She waved her cousin over.
"It looks like one of those books you'd find over on Aline Street. You know the place full of myths and stuff." Willa picked up the book, turning it over in her hands. "What's it about?"
"It's about a man who's wife gave birth to twins, but one of the kids was special. He believes she is the devil's daughter and not his own." Beverly explained. "I stayed up the other night and read most of it."
Will sat down next to the brunette on the couch. "Is it any good?" She inquired.
Bev shrugged. "I guess. It's interesting at least. They lived on Aline Street over seventy years ago, and now its said she haunts the town. The daughter of the Devil himself." She leaned against Will, suddenly exhausted from being up so long.
"Wait, so she really is his child?" The blonde sounded about as confused as Bev felt on the matter.
"Supposedly the devil sent her here to punish her "father" for his sins." She nodded. "It's all so confusing, and now that I've read the story the pages seem to change. One minute it's a drawing, the next it's a poem, or rhyme. Ever changing." Her eyes started to get heavy and tiredness laced her words.
"Yeah." Willa nodded and started to brush Bev's hair back from her face. "Confusing." She added barely above a whisper.
Willa and Beverly had always been close, but when Beverly got hurt it took a long time for Willa to treat her as anything other than a porcelain doll. Now, however, as Willa watched her fall fast asleep, she could see the small Beverly that used to so happy all the time.
The front door closing brought her out of thought. Looking up, she locked eyes with Lewis. "You're home late." She said quietly careful not to wake the other girl. "Where ya been?"
"None of your business, but it would seem I've arrived just in time." He set his jacket on the table and bent down to pick up Beverly. "Looks like someone fell asleep on the couch again." He chuckles softly, lifting her up and carrying her toward the stairs.
Willa went first, opening the bedroom door him, leaving almost directly afterward with a quick goodnight.
Lewis laid Beverly on the bed and covered her up. "Goodnight, Bevie, sleep well." He kissed her forehead.
Letting thoughts flood through his mind as he left the room, not forgetting to glance at the closet and leave the door cracked. As he went down the hall, Lewis could see Andrew's light on and hear him face timing someone-probably Vanessa.
At that moment it hit him why they had been fighting for the past nine years: Andrew only ever hurt and took Bev for granted. Something Lewis could never understand. He remembered how Drew wouldn't even talk to her for months after the incident, and how she'd cry for hours because of it. Of course, Drew had no clue what he was doing to her.
By the time he shook the thoughts away he was to the basement and lying in bed.

****

Beverly woke to the sound of cries. She quickly slipped out of bed, and went to check on her younger brother; Eddie, however, was still asleep in bed.
The cries weren't coming from inside the house, they were echoing from the woods. Which was very odd considering it was four in the morning.
Nevertheless, Bev stepped outside into the backyard. "Hello?" She called out. "Who's there?" She gingerly walked a little farther toward the woods, praying it wasn't a trick by some serial killer. Beverly knew she wouldn't be able to take anyone.
The crying only got louder once she fully stepped into the woods. "Are you hurt? Where are you?" She called.
Something moved in the corner causing her to whirl around, the beam of light falling on something red. Red hair to be exact.
It was girl no older than fourteen. She was covered in dirt and blood-oddly the colour of her hair-seeped through her jeans at the left knee.
Beverly practically dropped her light at the sight of her. She looked pretty even covered in filth, her blue eyes stark against the black night sky.
"W-Where-am-I?"