It’s difficult to see things coming in the eye of a storm.
A raven sits on a wire, glaring at me. The light beside it glows green with the gray sky behind it. Cam drives forward through the intersection, and I close my eyes. I fight to keep saliva from pooling in my mouth by clenching my stomach muscles repetitively, almost involuntarily. My heart races, pounding in my ears as I grip the seatbelt across my chest, pulling it away to take full, purposeful breaths.
Breathing is the key to most things in life.
Cam was right to suggest the Xanax before we left, despite the fuss I put up about it. Begrudgingly, I took it. Somehow, agreeing to take the little white coffin-shaped pill felt like a dead giveaway; Cam might uncover that there’s more to this day—this memorial—than anyone could ever know. I wouldn’t risk him catching a glimpse of fear in my eyes.
His hand glides over the polyester wrap of my dress against my thigh, up my lap, and into my hand, lacing his fingers in mine. He twists at the diamond ring he placed on my index finger a few months ago in a nervous, fidgeting manner. I often do the same. It’s a mindless motion that eats at me with each twist. In mere seconds, he’s ratcheted my anxiety levels through the roof.
I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want to be here.
I squeeze both my hands over his to make him stop without having to speak. The stillness prevents my skin from crawling with frustration for long enough to take another deep breath.
He’s just trying to offer support. Don’t push him away like you always do—not today.
I squeeze his hand and his stops moving. Much better.
The relief doesn’t last long.
“Did Jordan contact you at all yet?” Cam’s smooth, deep voice interrupts the silence as he switches lanes with one hand.
I need to breathe. Just keep breathing.
“Chels?”
He stares at me, his dapper suit hugging him in a perfect fit against his solid frame, waiting for a response.
“No.” Attitude permeates the word as I turn my whole body away from him toward the window. I expect to see that raven still watching me, but the sky only offers mottled clouds.
Cam mutters something, but I don’t catch it. I inhale deeply through my nose as my muscles tense, and exhale through my lips. Don’t let him bait you. Just keep breathing. I can still taste the remnants of Xanax on my tongue. It’ll kick in soon. It always does.
“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t check in today.” His body shifts toward me in my peripheral. “Of all days.”
My clenched jaw doesn’t stop me from speaking. “This isn’t a surprise. That’s how my brother is, and you wouldn’t know because you’ve never met him.”
“I know if my brother or sister had been through even a fraction of what you have, I’d have been there for them. That’s what siblings do, Chels, and I’m sorry yours hasn’t been there for you.”
I can’t explain it to him any better than I have before, and the fact that he insists on bringing him up now urges me to put it to bed for good. “He probably doesn’t even know what day it is.” As the lie leaves my lips, I peer over at Cam.
He raises his brows, staring at the road ahead. “The whole town knows what day it is. You shouldn’t make excuses for him.”
“I’m not. That’s not why he hasn’t called. You know why he hasn’t.”
“It just doesn’t make any sense to me. Steven was his friend. Fine.” He tosses his right hand in the air, shoving it back toward the steering wheel in the next motion. “I get how that complicates feelings but after what he did to—to all of you.” He shakes his head as we veer left along the familiar curve in the road toward the water on the horizon. To the house where it all happened. “You’re the only family Jordan has, and he’s it for you, too. He should be here today. His loyalty is to you—not that monster.”
Our mother passed after a battle with cancer when we were young, and our dad died of cirrhosis nearly a decade ago. I hated to be reminded that the only kin I had left hadn’t spoken to me for almost five years.
I take a huge breath, my stomach heaving as I close my eyes and exhale through my lips. The pill must be kicking in because I can’t hear my heartbeat anymore. It’s muffled as the word monster echoes in my mind. I can’t hear Cam’s voice, the gentle hum of the car’s engine, or even my own breathing.
But I see Steven behind my lids. His hands covered in blood, holding the knife.
“Jordan should be loyal to you. Y’know, maybe he’ll surprise you. Maybe he’ll be there—”
“Cam.” I turn to him slowly and he stops, glancing at me and back to the road ahead. “Could you please drop it? I know how you feel. I have support. I have you. Kellan and Oz are coming, too. I’m okay. Today is going to be okay. It’s just something we have to get through.”
I told myself that on the first, second, third, and fourth anniversary of my friends’ murders, and it was true. I made it through each of those days, and our secrets did, too.
“We’ll get through it together, babe.” He grabs my hand again, but I feel numb, unsure if it’s the Xanax taking its course, or the stress-induced adrenaline running through me.
I give him a small smile. I’ve been alone for a long time, carrying the burden of truth. No matter how far I go from this town, or how much time passes, I’ll never escape my past. I know that, now.
My eyes flutter open and closed as my body slumps back in the seat. Our car rolls to a stop at the end of a long line of cars parked in front of Lennox and Eliana’s old house. The last place I saw my friends alive. Cam shifts into park. Across the street, a couple walks along the beach, unfazed by the dreariness of the day, unaware of the murders that took place close by.
“Would you be happy if he came?” His gentle tone and slow cadence keep me from shouting at him to stop. “Would you want to see him?”
His green eyes innocently search mine. He’s just trying to be supportive. His intentions are good, but he doesn’t understand. Jordan doesn’t, either, and that’s how I know he won’t be there for me ever again.
“Jordan doesn’t know how to deal with what happened.” My gaze falls from him to the water along the horizon. “I don’t, either, but I don’t have the luxury of avoiding it like he does. He removed himself from all of it, Cam. He’s not coming. The sooner you accept that, the less disappointment you’ll feel.”
“Your brother’s best friend killed four of your closest friends.” He shakes his head. “He almost killed you—would have if the cops hadn’t shot him.” He faces me, but I continue looking past him at the water, the choppy waves rolling slightly off-parallel to the shore. “If Jordan misses one more chance to show up for you in the way you need, I’ll support your decision to let it be this way. No, you know what?” He pulls the keys from the ignition. “I’ll make sure if he ever tries to come back, he knows the damage he’s done, and he won’t have another chance to hurt you.”
I rub my temple, facing the frustration in his gaze as he grips the keys in his fist. That’s a look I can take; I can handle that emotion today. I’d take that over the pity and judgement in the eyes soon to fall on me.
“Jordan never tried to understand what happened that night.” I lick my lips and rest my hand on his fist. “He refused to believe his best friend was capable of—of what he did.”
Beyond the white picket fence, the large wooden door of Lennox and Eliana’s two-storey house catches my eye. I can hear the deep, hollow knocks, even now. What if we’d just refused to let him in? What if we’d called the police instead of listening to Morgan?
“Chels?”
I conjure the last of my patience. “Jordan wasn’t there that night. He didn’t see...” Steven with the knife. The knife he jammed in Morgan’s chest. I held her hand while she choked to death on her own blood. I shake the image away and fight to focus on Cam again. “He can choose what he wants to believe. I can’t control that.”
I can only control myself, and acknowledging that simple fact gives me the power I need to get through this anniversary memorial one last time.
Cam squeezes my hand and I pull away. I look back at the house. Beyond the fence, a small group holding white rose stems gathers by where the peony bushes used to be—Ellie’s favourite. I have to focus on who I am to these people. I have to be who they think I am. That’s all that matters for today. Just today.
I open my purse to find my sunglasses, desperate for the modicum of privacy they’ll bring me, and my fingers glide along the white envelope inside.
It will all be over soon.
Cam says something, but I can’t focus. My mind returns to that night. The night I’ve forced from my memory any time it arises. The night it all went wrong. The night the blood stained my hands, too.