Jena squinted at the light pouring onto her bed. Her mouth was tacky and dry from the alcohol she’d consumed the night before, and she knew as soon as she lifted her head off the pillow the headache was going to come crashing in on her. She should have at least shut the curtains before she passed out. Damn you, drunk Jena.
She rolled over, away from the light, and came face to face with a skull.
Oh.
Oh. That.
She covered her hand with her mouth, gripping her face to prevent herself from speaking out loud. She didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to think anything, especially about the flashes of last night that were coming back to her now. The rain. The oak tree. The hole she’d spent how long digging? And this. Her grandfather.
And Will. Right? He’d found her there, taken her inside. They’d talked …. Hang on, she’d written a note. She remembered that.
Found Ernest’s skull in the old rose garden. Am sure Rose killed him. Suspect Rose burned down the barn. Dad killed everyone. You can trust Will.
Right. Okay. Well, at least drunk Jena had thought to write a note.
All that aside, it didn’t really change the fact that she wasn’t sure what would happen next. She could confront Rose with what she thought was the truth. Or, she could try and find out more by searching through the house again, looking for another clue.
That decision could wait until she’d had coffee and had seen if she could stomach some food.
Jena rolled to the edge of the bed, ignoring the way it made her stomach burn and roil. Oh, this is going to be a long day. And she had no one to blame but herself.
Or Rose. She could totally blame Rose. Because Rose was the one keeping secrets locked up tight, and Rose had been the one who burned her family – whether they were dead or alive at the time almost wasn’t relevant. That, and her subsequent actions, had denied Jena the right to any sense of peace, had instilled in her such a sense of shame that she’d never been able to hold onto something good for long.
Not even Cade. And it wasn’t even all that long. But he was good; it was she who was broken. She who took things the wrong way and made a hash of it all. She’d blown it yesterday. Jumped to the wrong conclusions.
She reached around on the bedside table for her phone, but it wasn’t there. Huh.
Oh, the rain. She vaguely remembered Will had taken it to … do something with, try and dry it out? On the off chance it was still working, the battery was probably flat, so either way she couldn’t check for a message from Cade. Jena flopped back onto the pillow, the movement jolting her head, shooting pain through it. Her arms ached, and her legs – apparently digging a muddy fucking hole was hard work or something.
She couldn’t lie there feeling sorry for herself, though. She had a skull, and options, and she had to face the day, face the truth.
It was so weird to think that just a few days ago she’d wanted it so badly, had ached to know what had really happened, and now that she’d uncovered some of it … she kind of wished she didn’t know. She couldn’t give up now, though, or she’d never forgive herself, and with Rose heading towards the grave there was no time to waste. Even if the old woman wouldn’t tell it to her straight, Jena could try and read her expression, learn her body language, and work from there – she just had to avoid giving her a heart attack in the meantime.
Jena forced herself out of bed, glad she’d dressed in clean clothes last night. She scraped her hair back from her face and tied it up.
It was time to face the day.
***
Coffee made everything a little better, though she couldn’t face more than a piece of dry toast and some painkillers. She’d walked down to Rose’s room a few times, pausing at the closed door before heading to the kitchen, where she riffled through the cupboards until Will came in.
‘Hey, you look like crap,’ she said. He had bags under his eyes, darker than they usually were, and he hadn’t even brushed his mess of hair yet. He rubbed his eyes the same way her kid brother used to. If she believed in ghosts, she might think Joel was infecting Will through his room, but that was just ridiculous. ‘Sit down and I’ll make you coffee. I can’t promise any of the wizardry you delivered last night, but it’ll be hot and strong and that’s more important, right?’
‘Mmhmm,’ Will muttered, taking a seat at the counter. He heaved a sigh, followed by a yawn, and rolled his shoulders. ‘Rose had me up a couple of times last night. I didn’t get much sleep.’
‘That sucks. Is she okay?’ Jena raised an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, just aches and trouble getting comfortable. Needed to pee. Old people stuff.’ He shrugged it off.
She poured the coffee and slid him the cup across the counter. He picked it up and drank immediately, not stopping until it was half gone.
‘That is seriously bad coffee,’ he said, before downing the rest. ‘Give me a minute and I’ll make another.’ He scratched behind his ear, and then finally actually looked at her. ‘Did you sleep?’ he asked. ‘How’s the head?’ He tapped his.
‘I’ve had worse mornings, and better.’ She bit her lip, and the bullet. ‘About last night.’
‘You found the note?’ His lips quirked into a smile. ‘And you’re still talking to me. No, wait, is that why you made me such an awful coffee?’
She laughed. ‘No, I just don’t care much how it’s made. I needed it fast.’ She sipped her own, actually tasting it this time, then tipped it down the sink and put the kettle on to boil. ‘I did find the note. That was clever, though it should maybe have been a little longer.’
‘I’d like to take credit, but that was all you. I got the feeling it wasn’t the first time you might have had to do that. No judgement, it just would never have crossed my mind. You’re smarter drunk than most people are sober.’
‘Well, thanks,’ she said, pressing her lips together. She didn’t know how to have this conversation, didn’t fully remember what they’d talked about last night. So, she skirted the topic instead. Avoidance wasn’t her normal way, but she wasn’t quite ready. ‘Oh, hey, did you say you were going to try and fix my phone?’
Instead of answering he got up and headed towards the pantry, scooping out a large bowl and placing it in front of her. ‘In there somewhere. I heard rice can help, but I’ve never actually tried it before.’
Jena screwed up her face, anxious about the result. She plucked the phone out and scraped stray pieces of rice back into the bowl. ‘I’m going to go and throw it on the charger, see if it still works. You eat, and I’ll meet you back here in about fifteen?’
‘Yeah, yeah sure,’ Will said. He chewed the inside of his cheek, keeping his eyes on her. ‘You’re okay, right? I can’t imagine how I’d deal with all of this if I was in your shoes.’
Jena shrugged, unsure how to handle his concern. ‘This is just my life, one disaster after another. I spend a lot of time thinking that if I’d just died along with them, everything would have been easier. But I’m still here. Still kicking.’ She headed for the door, not wanting any more of his empathy; the weight of it was almost too much.
And if she stopped to think about how she felt for too long, she might never move again.
She headed upstairs and put the phone on charge before wandering over to the window. She could see the barn from here. Her head spun, as if she was losing balance, and her ears rang with magpie caws at the thought of going back in there. At the thought of what Rose might have done.
Jena didn’t know what to think about her grandmother any more. On the one hand she had lots of good memories from before the barn incident, but nothing since then. Rose had all but shut her out, kept her away from the farm, made her leave most of her possessions behind and make a fresh start with Aunt Pat. And now she was sure that Rose was capable of murder – that her own father was capable of murder – she had to wonder what she was getting into.
Would Jena go that way too?
She’d inherited her father’s dark hair and her mother’s brown eyes, the long, lean lines of her paternal grandmother. Curiosity seemed to run deep in their family too; in all her siblings, anyway.
She had to wonder, was this brand of crazy their real family legacy? And if so, was she going to be able to avoid it? She’d always thought she was screwed up enough after what happened, and now to find that perhaps she was genetically inclined towards darkness ….
Well, she didn’t know what to think, but it made it hard to breathe, like when the feathers had filled her mouth in the barn.
Maybe Rose had a good reason. Maybe there was an explanation that would wash away all her conflicted feelings – after all, if her father had killed the rest of her family, then Rose was doing the world a favour by locking him in the barn and letting him burn.
Jena clutched her stomach. It felt like a snake had coiled there, wrapping around her organs. She breathed in and out, long and slow, trying to stop the sensation of her throat closing over, trying to bring herself back to the now.
She wanted the truth; the cold hard facts. She needed to know what really happened, not the stories she’d heard about faulty wiring, or the fairy tales her family had made up about some Dark Man on the farm. Because this was the real world, not fantasy.
She was going to get the truth.
With a sigh she turned away from the barn and sat on the bed, pushing the on button for her phone. Nothing. She held it down longer, but still nothing. Only then did a sob tear free because despite all the other things, she wished she could be near Cade, take comfort in the warmth of his body. But what if he never came back? What if it was over?
No, she couldn’t think about that right now, either. She put her phone down and hoped that maybe later it would work, then she headed downstairs to meet Will.