He huffs out an exhale while dragging his fingers through his hair. “I know, but… fuck. I forgot how much this town drives me crazy.”
“You and me both,” I mumble, my chest constricting as I prepare to say the words burning on my tongue. I don’t want to say them, but I have to—I have to do this. “I want to help. I'd like to show you where my father used to like to hike. I want to meet this person at the bar. I want to tell you about what I overheard Trystan saying today when he was in my room, and he didn’t know Clara and I were hiding in the closet.”
His expression crumbles. “What?”
“It happened when we went to get our stuff.” I stand up, ignoring the tremble in my legs. “I need to help with this. I need to make things right for all the wrongs I did in the woods that day, all those fucking years ago.”
Pity fills his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You fought for your life. You ran because if you didn’t, you’d be dead too.”
I’ve always wondered that myself, if I ran to survive or because I’m a coward. While it’s nice to hear him say it, a drop of doubt still stirs inside me.
“Maybe that’s true, but I still feel guilty about it. And I can help now, so…” I shrug. “And besides, someone who knows something about it wants me involved in this and that could help, right?”
He doesn’t want to answer. Even all these years later, he’s trying to protect me.
“I don’t want you getting hurt,” he conclusively says. “This is a murder case. And possible multiple murders are involved. I just… I don’t think you should be involved in this.”
“Whether I should or not is irrelevant. Whoever is taunting me is making sure I’m involved.” I gesture at the flowers. “I think I’ve been involved since I walked into those woods years ago.”
We trade a look, and I can see it in his eyes: he knows I’m right.
“I don’t want you doing anything alone.Ever.” He straightens and steps toward me. “If I’m not with you, you have to promise not to do anything related to this.”
I nod, but in the back of my mind I question if the promise is in my control. The reality is that I’m tangled in this web of lies plaguing the town, and whoever is creating it clearly wants me to remain stuck inside it.
“Okay.” He contemplates for a second. “Do you feel comfortable enough going up to the mountains today?” He checks the time on his watch. “There’s still a handful of hours left before the sun sets, but if that makes you nervous, we can go tomorrow.”
“I have to meet that person at the bar tomorrow,” I remind him, my anxiety spiking at the idea of stepping foot into the shadows of the woods.
I haven’t been back in these particular woods since that day. And I promised myself I’d never step foot in them again. But those promises allowed fear to feed off me, to eat away at my inside and nearly hollow me out. I need to do this. I need to make things right.
“Let’s go.” I sound more confident than I feel.
“Are you sure?” He double checks.
“Yeah.” This time, being a good liar might not be such a terrible thing.
Perhaps if I keep doing it, I'll convince myself I’ll be okay.
12
AVA
We drive to the woods in Ellis’s SUV. During the drive, he has me recount all the details I can recall about the woods and what happened afterward, ranging from what Camilla has told me to the voicemails I’ve received over the years, to what I overheard Trystan say today.
“Do you have the key Trystan was looking for?” Ellis asks me as he steers down the road.
He has a pair of sunglasses on, and he changed into a pair of pants, a T-shirt, and sneakers before we left. I already had on comfortable clothes, so I didn’t bother having him stop at the place I’m staying at, so I could change. It’s not like I'll be comfortable anyway. In fact, the closer we get to the peaked lines of the mountains that angle toward the partly cloudy sky, the more nausea clenches my stomach. I worry I’ll end up throwing up, which is becoming a common trait for me since I arrived here. At this rate, by the time I leave, my stomach will be an empty pit of nothingness. At least my soul won’t match it, though… I hope.
Redemption? Does such a thing exist?
“I do.” I open my bag and rummage around until I find the key. “I stole it out of my mother’s room. I’m not even sure why Idid it.” I rotate the key in front of me, the metal catching in the light. “She’s just been acting so off, even for her. And after I woke up and that word was carved on my back, I just… I don’t know. I felt like I needed to get some answers. I just don’t know what questions I should be asking.”
He grips the wheel as he slows down to make a turn on a road that leads toward my mother’s house and forks off toward the entrance to the woods. “I agree with you. When I spoke to your mother about your father’s death, she acted nonchalant about it. I know people handle grief differently, but it wasn’t even her lack of emotion that was suspicious. It was her evasiveness to answer questions.”
“I told you my uncle doesn’t trust you, right?” I ask and he nods, casting me a glance from the corner of his eyes. “Well, she’s always done whatever my father and uncle tell her to do. My aunt’s that way, too, so getting anyone in my family to talk to you will be a pain in the ass. In fact, I don’t think they will unless you can get my uncle to, and I doubt that’ll happen.”
“I don’t think he will either. I tried to speak to him on the phone, and he basically told me to go fuck myself and that he doesn’t speak to corrupt police, which is ironic considering the Star Meadows Police Department is under heavy suspicion for dusting certain issues under the rug.”
