The green wallpaper along the stairs had started to peel by itself, and behind it, something had been written onto the wall in blood.
I just learned how to read last year, so it took me a minute to spell,“COME HOME.”
I blinked, trying to read it again, but Daddy wouldn’t stop. He kept moving, faster now, like the house was burning. He held me tighter, and I could feel his breath against my forehead.
Outside, everything was too bright. Too loud. Flashing lights, screaming voices, the stench of wet grass.
And faces.
So many faces.
All staring at the house like it had become a grave.
I saw Vivienne standing in the driveway. Crying. Her mouth was opened wide, her eyes red. But it wasn’t real. None of it was real.
She wore Mommy’s white dress. The one with the black buttons she only wore on special nights. When she put on her red lipstick and smiled like she wasn’t sad inside. Vivienne had the same lipstick now.
I looked at Daddy. I looked at the police officer by the open car door. And then I saw the stretcher.
They were wheeling something out, something zipped up in black.
I knew what it was. Even before the wind caught the edge of the bag. The zipper shifted, and a pale hand slipped free.
Her hand. Still clutching her silver medallion with the rose on it. She promised she would give it to me when I turned eighteen. But it might lose meaning now.
“Mommy?” I whispered.
Then my voice broke.
“Mommy!”
I thrashed in Daddy’s arms, trying to get to her, but he wouldn’t let me go.
“Mommy, no!” I screamed again. “She promised, Daddy, shepromised—“
But he just held me closer, hiding his face, as if he didn’t see it, it didn’t happen.
My eyes blurred with tears, and as I looked above towards her room, a light flicked on. And she was there. Standing. Still. Watching.
Her skin was pale, lips parted like she wanted to say something to me, but couldn’t, and her eyes met mine. Not glassy. Not dead. Present.
“Daddy,”I cried, tugging at his collar, “Mommy’s right there!”
I pointed. My finger trembled.
But as soon as he turned to look, the light blinked out.
She wasn’t there anymore.
The window was just a reflection now. Curtains unmoving. Room silent. Like no one had ever lived there at all.
But I knew what I saw.
I know what I saw.
She wasn’t gone.
She was home.
