For years, Rose thought she’d finally beaten the nightmares. After seeing the girl jump into the ocean, they came back with a vengeance. This time, she wasn’t alone. The long-haired girl’s face joined her in the water. Those beautiful and mysterious eyes widened until they looked as if they were going to pop out of her head. Bubbles flurried around her mouth as her lips tried to form words.
Rose reached out to her, but she froze in fear. The scaly object tightened around their legs, dragging both of them downward.
Over the years, the events from that night shifted. Mom never gave her an answer about how she knew Rose was in the ocean. And seaweed didn’t have that kind of force behind it. The questions never left her mind, but each time she asked Pearl about it, the devastation in her mother’s eyes prevented her from pushing.
That night had been traumatic for Pearl too. Rose hated to see Pearl upset about anything, so eventually, she stopped asking. And had refused to step into the ocean since. Reen tried to change her mind about the ocean, but it never worked. The fear was so paralyzing that it cost Rose the closeness with her sister too.
The flickering image of the girl followed Rose around her apartment all morning. Without a phone call from the Whinding House, she had no excuse to be late for work again, even if she was seeing someone who wasn’t there.
Throughout her shift at The Siren, her mind wandered enough that her work suffered. There were only a few customers, but Rose managed to screw up at least one item on most of their orders.
It didn’t help that every single local who came into the restaurant mentioned the girl who’d committed suicide on the pier.
Local gossip never bothered her much unless she was the center of it. The last time she’d felt this way was when the rumors swirled around town about Mom ending up in the middle of the park, dressed in her Sunday best, at two in the morning.
Most asked about her involvement.
Did you know the girl?
That must have been so awful.
Did you see her body?
She muttered quick and dismissive responses, not wanting to dwell more than a few seconds on the topic.
By the end of the day, she had the urge to jump off the pier herself.
The one thing all the conversations had in common was that no one knew the identity of the girl. There weren’t any missing locals, at least as far as anyone knew.
Desperation fueled the relentless thoughts swirling in her mind. Once she got the girl out of her head, then she’d be able to release the ghost following her around and get back to a normal and nightmare-free life.
The dinner crowd kept Missy busy enough in the kitchen to almost miss Rose sneaking out the back door.
‘You know I’m going to stop over tonight,’ Missy called to her.
‘Bring wine,’ Rose said as she pulled the door closed.
Rose had only been to the Burrow Police Department twice in her life. With her tendency to stay out of trouble, there was no need, other than the obligatory elementary and middle school field trips. She passed it on the way to the Whinding House but rarely gave the tan brick building a second look.
Her clammy hands curled around the steering wheel as she drove past the police cars parked in a row at the far end of the lot.
Pressure built in her throat and she drew in several breaths before trying to get out of the car. She had a right to get closer. Patrick had asked her if she needed anything.
Yes, Patrick, all I need to know is who she was. Then I can go back to my ordinary life instead of seeing her everywhere.
When she finally got out of the car, she steadied herself and picked up her pace toward the building.
The front doors spilled into a lobby. The gray-tiled floors were slick and impeccably clean. At the far end of the room was a desk with a female uniformed officer typing away at a computer. Her thin lips pursed as she concentrated on her work.
It wasn’t until Rose stood right in front of her that the officer tilted her head to the side and lifted her gaze. ‘Good afternoon.’
‘Hi,’ Rose said, pushing through a shaky smile. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous; it wasn’t as if she had committed a crime. Well, an almost hit and run, but no one had charged her yet. ‘I’d like to speak with Patrick McCreary.’
‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘I don’t. But I was the one who witnessed that girl jumping off the pier.’
The officer’s lips tugged downward. ‘So, you have more information.’ It wasn’t a question, and Rose chose not to answer. The officer picked up the phone and pressed one of the buttons on the keypad. She cradled the phone against her shoulder and focused on her computer screen again. ‘Yes, I have a Miss –’ She glanced at her, her thin eyebrows raised.
‘Rose Barros.’
‘Rose Barros. She’d like to speak with you about the suicide victim.’
Rose licked her suddenly dry lips. Suicide. It made sense that they’d leaped to that conclusion, but for some reason, it didn’t sit well with her. It was too final.
‘I’ll send her back,’ the officer said and placed the phone down before standing up.
The officer towered over Rose. She hadn’t looked that tall in her chair. ‘Come with me,’ the officer said and headed down a narrow hallway behind her desk.
Rose hastened her steps to keep up with the officer’s long stride. After passing through two key-padded doors, they arrived at a door that read ‘Chief of Police’ on the placard.
The officer knocked and stood with her hands clasped behind her back.
Rose straightened her spine, then thought better of it. She loosened her shoulders. There was no reason to be nervous about anything.
The door swung open and Rose – fully expecting to see Patrick – saw a stone-faced Shane in the doorway.
His arms were crossed in front of him. ‘You have more information?’
The female officer abandoned Rose. The rapid clicking of her shoes matched the pace of Rose’s heartbeat. She’d expected Patrick to be alone, but it made sense that Shane would be with him since he was taking over soon.
She craned her neck to peer around him. ‘Is Patrick here?’
‘Through here,’ Patrick said from inside of the room.
Rose squeezed by Shane. He moved to the side, barely letting her through the doorway.
‘Sorry to barge in without an appointment.’
‘No need to apologize,’ Patrick said, waving her over to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Patrick’s office was simple. Rose wouldn’t think of him any other way. Two tall filing cabinets and a bookcase took up one side of the room. The only window in the room looked out onto the main road. She wondered if they saw her coming and were expecting more from her, when in fact she wanted something from them.
‘You have more information about the case?’ Shane repeated. He moved to stand in front of her, leaning up against the desk. His sunglasses perched on top of his head. She preferred them between her and his piercing gaze.
‘No.’ She sat in the chair, wondering if this was the worst idea she’d ever had. Clearing her throat, she said, ‘I wanted to know if there was any information on the girl.’
Shane and Patrick shared a look.
‘What information do you need?’ Patrick asked.
‘Are you sure it was a suicide?’ Rose asked.
Shane stood all the way up, leaning forward. ‘Do you have any reason to think otherwise?’
‘No. I – I can’t imagine what her family must be feeling.’ Rose knew loss.
Shane’s eyebrows drew together, and he tilted his head to the side as if he were a dog listening to a high-pitched whistle. Was her request that out of the ordinary?
‘That’s understandable,’ Patrick said. ‘But without a body there’s no way we can identify her.’
‘Then, potentially, she could be alive,’ Rose said.
‘She didn’t come out of the water,’ Shane said. ‘At least that was what you reported, correct?’
Rose’s heart sunk in her chest, enough that she thought her ribs were going to cave in.
‘Listen, Rose.’ Patrick got up from his chair. He rounded the desk and sat down next to her. ‘There was nothing you could do. It’s a tragedy, but you shouldn’t worry about it. If we find out anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.’
‘Is that how it works around here?’ Shane asked him.
Patrick glanced at Rose and pressed his lips into a thin line. ‘Rose is upset. We take care of our own around here.’
‘But sharing confidential information like that, to a civilian?’
Rose gritted her teeth, listening to them speak as if she wasn’t in the room.
Patrick rubbed his hands together as if he were trying to start a fire out of thin air. ‘Rose isn’t on trial here,’ Patrick said.
Shane carried on as if he hadn’t heard the chief. ‘If you know something, tell us. Otherwise, all we have to go on is your word. And right now, it looks like a suicide.’
The rush of the ocean filled her ears and the room tilted. A flash of the girl under the water filled her vision. Heat surged under her skin and tears pricked behind her eyes.
Rose stood from her chair. The legs scraped against the tile floor. ‘I’m sorry I came.’ Her fingers brushed over her eyes, wiping away her tears. If she could pick one thing she hated about herself, it would be breaking down with intense emotion.
Once she was in the hallway, she dashed toward the exit. She avoided eye contact with the female officer in the lobby and shoved through the front doors.
By the time she reached her car she was out of breath. Why was this girl affecting her so? Why couldn’t she accept that she’d committed suicide? There was nothing that told her otherwise. Rose was there. She saw the girl jump. But without the body, a shred of hope bloomed in her chest.
Where her life once made sense, now it was a jumble of questions. Was she the only one fighting for this girl? With the push back from Patrick and Shane, Rose knew she had to be careful if she wanted some answers.
And she would get them with or without their help.
The library had closed around seven o’clock that night. If the girl walked from the library to the pier, someone had to have seen her.
Rose’s skin prickled as she pulled into the parking lot for the second time in two days. It wasn’t completely for the memory of nearly mowing the girl down, but for the possibility of finding out who she was and why she thought that ending her life was more important than life itself.
The sun had started its descent in the sky, and she knew Missy would call soon. It had been some time since the two of them met up. Rose missed her friend. Seeing her at work wasn’t the same as being with her outside of The Siren. Most of their conversations revolved around Pearl. Rose’s top priority was building their friendship back up to where it used to be before Pearl had started her steep descent.
A shiver rolled down her spine as she thought of her mother. She hoped that if Mom had any lucid moments she wouldn’t accuse Rose of abandoning her in that place. Would she ever remember how much Rose tried to keep their family together? It started after Dad died. The threads between the three women left behind whittled away until they frayed and were too thin to grasp. First, Mom checked out of her life, followed by Reen’s unexpected departure.
As she entered the library, Rose’s shoulders dropped slightly. There was something about this place that made her feel more at home than her actual house. Several stone columns reached up to the two floors with elegantly curved capitals at the top. A wrought-iron railing was the only segregation between the first and second floors, giving an opportunity for those in the stacks to have access to the patrons below.
The sound of Rose’s footsteps echoed across the open space.
The openness reminded her of The Burrow as a whole, where nothing divided the citizens from each other. Which led to thin boundaries. That was why she was determined to learn all the secrets of the girl who’d jumped. She seemed to be the only one who believed there was something more to it.
There wasn’t much time to get the answers she wanted, so she didn’t waste any time heading over to the circulation desk at the center of the main lobby.
The librarian, Mrs. Henshaw, glanced up at her. A smile pulled at the wrinkles around her mouth. She dropped her pink-rimmed glasses to her chest, and they hung there, held up by a thin-corded rope around her neck.
‘Back so soon?’ Mrs. Henshaw asked.
Since Rose started coming to the library, Mrs. Henshaw hadn’t aged a day.
Rose leaned against the top of the desk, picking at her cuticles. How was she going to start this conversation?
Mrs. Henshaw was a stickler for the library hours, and she’d close shop soon. ‘I wanted to ask if you heard about that young girl who jumped off the pier last night.’
The librarian clicked her tongue. ‘A tragedy.’
Rose’s ears perked up. ‘She was last seen in front of the library. Yesterday afternoon.’ She didn’t want to implicate herself more than necessary, so she left out the important detail that she was the one who’d seen her.
‘Oh, dear.’
‘You didn’t see her?’
‘No. But I would have remembered a new face.’
Rose glanced behind her, wondering if any of the volunteers had seen the girl. The children’s section was on the same side as the parking lot. Someone had to have seen something through the wide front windows.
‘Why do you ask?’ Mrs. Henshaw said, cutting through Rose’s thoughts.
There was no way she could answer that question honestly without explaining her strange obsession with the girl. ‘No reason.’ She cleared her throat and the tremble in her voice. ‘Curiosity, I guess.’
Mrs. Henshaw bobbed her head. ‘There are plenty of other places to do such a thing. I’m glad she wasn’t one of our own.’
Rose’s breath hitched in her throat, catching for a moment before she was able to release it. Like at the precinct, she’d asked the wrong question. If she knew why the girl came to The Burrow, then Rose would be able to track that back to who she was. The wide-eyed girl flashed in her mind again, wandering around the town before taking her life. What happened that forced her into that decision?
‘Well, I need to start closing up,’ Mrs. Henshaw said. ‘Can I help you find something?’
‘No,’ Rose said. ‘I was going to return something, but I forgot and left the book at home.’
Mrs. Henshaw pressed her lips together. She reached over and patted Rose on the arm. ‘It will get better, dear.’
Rose slowly turned away from the woman, her eyebrows knitting together.
It wasn’t until she reached the car that she realized what Mrs. Henshaw had implied. While every cell in her body wanted to rush back and tell the woman that she wasn’t losing her memory, she thought better of it. It was easier for her to think that Rose was losing her mind like Pearl, instead of knowing that she was on a hunt to find a dead girl and any clue to the girl’s past.