“Of course. I’ll move as quickly as possible, but it might take a little while.”
“Okay.”
“Hang in there, Anna. We’ll figure this out.”
“Thanks, Keisha.”
I hung up and moved towards the lounge by the pool. My legs trembled as I sat. I pulled them up, wrapping my arms around them so that I was sitting in a tight ball. The sun hung low in the sky, but I was suddenly freezing.
I didn’t want to imagine that my parents could be so heartless that they would bury their daughter without her children present. But, deep down, I knew they were capable of anything. I wished I knew if my mother had always been that way. Always contained that chip that made her callous, able to turn away in the face of cruelty. Or if my father had turned her into that. Maybe she’d been a completely different woman before meeting him. I’d never know.
But I couldn’t imagine my father being anything but what he was—cold and vicious. As if he lacked even an inkling of empathy. And the rage that flared to life when anything impinged on his control…I’d never seen anything like it.
I’d heard similar stories, though. In the voices of women at Hope House who had fled abusive husbands. I knew that sort of flip wasn’t unique. But that didn’t make it any less terrifying.
My phone buzzed in my hand, making me jump. I hitacceptas Keisha’s name flashed across the screen. “Hey, that was fast.”
“I stayed on the phone with Dante while he researched.”
“And?”
“I’m so sorry. They buried her a week ago.”
It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. Not when I knew the truth about my father’s need for revenge. I’d seen him exert his dominance in every way imaginable for the smallest infraction. A neighbor had once asked him not to mow the lawn so early on the weekend. My father had started a campaign against him in the neighborhood, slowly but surely sowing doubt with everyone in the area. The man had been single and lived alone. My father insinuated that he might be a pedophile and that he looked at us girls funny. The man was finally forced to move.
There were countless stories like that. So, it shouldn’t have shocked me that he would steal my chance to say goodbye to my sister. Yet, it did. And, God, it hurt. So much so, I had trouble taking a full breath.
“Anna?” Keisha asked.
“I’m here,” I wheezed.
“Where’s Mason?”
“Inside making pasta with Justin and Lyla.”
“Do you want me to call him?”
I shook my head and then realized she couldn’t see me. “No. I just need a minute to get it together.”
“Want me to stay on the phone with you?”
It was so kind of her to offer. Especially when her normal billable-hours rate was something that made me wince. “No, that’s okay. Thank you for finding out.”
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye.”
It took me three tries to hit the right button on my phone to disconnect from the call. The shaking had intensified until a sob finally tore free. The tears came in torrents, and I pressed my face to the pillow on the back of the lounge. I screamed and wailed into it, letting all of the pain and rage and fear free.
Memory after memory slammed into me. A kaleidoscope of the ugliest images of my childhood. Huddling with Chelsea, trying to hide from my father. Watching him punch my mom in the stomach. The blood in the toilet after an especially brutal beating.
It was too much. Where was the justice? Where was God? Where was anyone?
Arms came around me, making me jolt, but Mason’s familiar scent quieted my panic. He lifted me, settling me in his lap and holding me close. “What is it?”
I didn’t have it in me to pull away, even if that might have been smarter. Instead, I leaned into Mason, soaked in his strength and the fact that he cared. “I-I—” The words barely came to my lips. “My parents…they buried Chelsea. She’s gone.”
