“You really did turn into a good guy,” I tell him. “Well, I mean, you were always a good guy. But you’re still a good guy.”
“Nice and good, huh?” He rubs the back of his neck. “That’s not always a good thing.”
“It is,” I assure him. “Anyone who thinks differently probably hasn’t experienced the bad and mean of a person.”
He smiles, but weariness resides behind it. “We used to be like that, though. All of us. Partly bad, I mean.” He sinks onto the sofa. “When I think back, I sometimes wonder how all of us didn’t end up like Clover and Zoey. And I’m not just talking about this group of people. I just think we tested the line of death pretty damn frequently.”
“I know.” I take a seat beside him, tucking my leg under my butt. “I think about that too. Honestly, I feel like I walked away from the line only after Jason and I divorced. Now I feel like I'm stepping back toward it.”
“That’s not going to happen.” He reaches out and, with a breath of hesitation, rests his hand on top of mine.
I let him.
I feel his warmth flood my hand.
I usually feel so numbly cold, just like how Clover’s hand felt the day she took her final breath.
While I stayed alive.
Ellis might not want me to follow in Clover’s footsteps, and I’ll do my best not to, but I need to keep going forward to figure out what happened to her.
“There’s some stuff I need to tell you,” I say to Ellis, noting he has a cut on his forehead. I turn to Clara, who’s gone very quiet. “Can you go see if there's a first aid kit anywhere in here?”
Nodding, she gets up and leaves the room with Bailey following her.
I return my attention to Ellis and tell him what I remember, about that night in the car where my parents spoke about hurting someone my aunt was close to, and how I suspect it may have been her sister. I also tell him about what I remembered the night I found Clover dying. That part is complicated because I have to pick at the scab that hasn’t yet scarred over, meaning it might take even longer to heal.
In the end, though, I manage to tell him everything.
By the time I’m finished, his eyes are wide. He doesn’t say much at first but shakes his head multiple times.
“Do you not think I’m right?” I ask. “About my parents killing my aunt’s sister and then her killing my father?”
“No, I think you could very well be right,” he tells me. “I’m just shocked. And not just about that. Clover never had any dirt under her fingernails in the photos that were with her autopsy report, which means someone cleaned that up.”
“You think the killer found her clutch then?” I ask, struggling to maintain an even tone as I have to trudge down memory lane. “I mean, I'm fairly sure the person who ran out of the stall overheard her tell me that.”
“They could have, but the probability of them being able to is pretty low. I mean, she had to have buried it in the park or the woods by the park, but that’s still a broad amount of space.”
“Well, except for the fact that I think she buried it under daisies. Camilla even knew that, but she acted like it was still buried. And during that time of year when Clover died, daisies were pretty scarce, so there wasn’t many spots she could’ve buried it. Although, when I saw her, she had dirt all over her,like she had been dragged, so… I don’t know. I have to wonder if she buried it close to the bathroom and someone dragged her in there, because wouldn’t someone have noticed if a person was dragging Clover through the party or to the parking lot, which are the only ways to get to the bathroom?”
“Yeah.” He retrieves his phone. “Let’s see if we can find photos of the park during that time, and see if there were any daisies around then.”
“Good idea.” I pause. “I wonder if there’s a way to find out if my aunt has a sister. I think maybe I could at the wake.”
His gaze flicks up to mine. “I don’t think you should go to that, especially if your aunt is involved in this.”
“I’m going,” I stress as I grab my phone so I can see if any of my aunt’s relatives have family photos posted online, because I really doubt she has social media. “I have to, Ellis. My aunt doesn’t know we know that it was her in the woods, so I’ll be okay.” I don’t wholly believe my words, but I sound like I do. “But for now, I’ll see if I can find some photos online of my aunt’s family.” I swipe my finger along my phone screen. “But I’m still going to that wake.”
“Aves,” he starts to protest, but I shush him.
He grows quiet, but I don’t believe this argument is over. Just postponed.
He starts searching online for photos of the park while I search for information about my aunt having a sister. It takes a while, but I manage to find a cousin of hers who has a lot of photos posted. I search through those, looking for the face of the girl in the photo, and I end up finding a few in a family album labeled 'Family Reunions.'
And the girl from the photo we found on the cliff is definitely my aunt’s younger sister.
“I found a photo of the girl,” I inform Ellis while showing him my phone. “This is definitely my aunt’s sister.”
