“So, your dad kept putting his foot on the brakes, but nothing was happening?” I nod my head, and I notice the look he gives the other office after I confirm what I say. It is then I remember what J said.
“Have you looked into the possibility that the brakes were tampered with?”
Detective Levy frowns at me. “Do you think that’s a possibility? If so, you must have suspicions if you do.”
I start to panic and wonder how I can explain this. I have no way of truthfully explaining it other than by saying, “My stalker boyfriend who kidnapped me told me.” Obviously, I can’t say that. Oh, God, this is a mess!
“I … I don’t know.” It suddenly dawns on me. “My dad—he’s a stockbroker… Maybe he gave someone bad advice, and they have a grudge?”
He laughs a little. “That would have to be some grudge!”
Oh great. They probably think I’m a delusional teenager making up stories as she goes along.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to invent stories. I just think… Well, the car was virtually brand new. You can’t blame faulty brakes on a brand new car. Surely, something drastic must have happened?”
I look towards him, and I can see the thoughts rolling around in his head. Suddenly, I sense that he thinks I have a theory. He must have thought this himself, though, surely? Maybe I was just confirming his suspicions. “Hmm,” is all he says, scrutinizing me more. “I think we have all we need for now.”
I am surprised when he rises to his feet and holds out his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Lily. We will be in touch if we need to ask you any further questions.”
I shake his hand. “Of course. I appreciate you coming down here to visit me.”
“We’re just doing our jobs.”
I smile and nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
He doesn’t think I had anything to do with this, does he? Shit, what if he does? I’ve been missing for the past three weeks, and there has been no sign of me. I could have been on the run.
I shake that thought out of my head. But why would I come back if I was guilty? I know I’m not guilty anyway, so I don’t know why I’m panicking.
“Are you okay?”
I look at Detective Levy and nod my head. “Yes, sorry. It’s just the accident and everything that’s happened since. I’m still trying to get my head wrapped around everything.”
He nods and walks towards the door. “Of course. I spoke with the nurse, and she said you must have been suffering some form of PTSD. You’ve been through a lot, Miss Campbell, and you’re only eighteen. It’ll take time to adjust.” He places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for the loss of your sister. I hear you two were pretty close.”
Tears prick my eyes again as I nod my head. “Yeah, we were very close. I can’t believe she’s gone.” At the last word, a sob catches in my throat, and I have to try and breathe to avoid breaking down. I think Detective Levy knows this as he nods his head at me with a smile.
“We’ll be going then. Take care, Lily.”
I manage to muster up a small smile through my tears. “Thanks.”
Once they walk out, I breathe a sigh of relief that at least this part is over. I didn’t like going back to the day of the accident, but of course certain situations are going to occur which will involve bringing it all back up again. I just can’t seem to get the image of my sister out of my head. It is the one memory I wish I could forget.
“Are you okay, pumpkin?”
I snap my head up to the door to find my father anxiously looking at me. “I’m fine, Dad. Sorry. I just needed some breathing space. I don’t particularly want to bring up the bad memories of the accident.”
He walks in and shuts the door, placing a hand on my shoulder. “It’s understandable. I wish I could take it all away from you, but that’s the one thing as a father that I can’t do. It still sucks nonetheless.”
I look into his eyes and the tears start again. “Is Mom going to be okay?” I croak.
He pulls me in for a hug. “I don’t know, sweetheart. The doctors keep telling me to be patient and that time will tell. I’ve never been one for wishing away time, but I’m doing it now.” Dad breaks the hug and wipes my hair away from my face. “Let’s get you home. You must be so tired. We can both come back first thing in the morning, okay?” I nod my head, and we both say our goodbyes to the staff and to my mom. There’s been no change in her condition since she was brought into the hospital, so there’s not much more we can do.
“I don’t like leaving her,” I say on the car ride back.
Dad grabs my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “I couldn’t leave her for the first few days—it was too hard to come back to an empty house. In the end, I think the staff just got fed up with me. They kept telling me that they would be on the phone the minute there was any change, and I eventually took the hint. There’s nothing we can do, Lily, and that’s the most frustrating thing about all of this.”
My poor father. He had been enduring this for the last three weeks all along while I at least had J—despite the fact that he betrayed me. I still can’t understand why he kept me away from my family. I have my dad to keep me safe, so what he did was cruel. So very cruel. My mother is fighting for her life, and I should have been by her side. The more I think about it, the angrier I am with him, but for some insane reason, I’m still keeping him and what he did a secret.
I stare out of the window at the mountains again. It’s something I always do. Despite living here all my life, I still stare up to the tops—just like I said I did in that speech. Wow, what a world away I am from that now. That day seemed like one of the happiest days of my life. Now… Now, it seems like a distant memory. A memory I would love to get back. My sister was alive then, and my mother wasn’t lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life. For some reason, my dad and I were the only ones left relatively unscathed. I guess it was their side which took the full brunt of the crash.
I briefly close my eyes, not wanting to think about the crash anymore. I’m in a car now, and I should be scared, but my dad seems to be driving at minus five miles-per-hour. “Is this a loaner?”
Dad nods his head. “Yes, until we can get a new car.”
I continue staring out the window. “What happened, Dad?”
“What do you mean?”
I look back at him. “What happened to the brakes? Just before the crash, you said they weren’t working.”
My dad looked dead ahead and didn’t speak at first. “I really don’t know, Lily. I wish I did. I keep going over and over it again in my mind, trying to figure out if there was something I could have done differently. I don’t like living with the fact I could have killed you all. Elle… Oh my God, Elle. She was just on her way to her new career.”
I see his tears, and I reach out to grab his arm. “It’s not your fault, Dad. Please don’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”
My dad smiles through his tears. “I’m sorry too. You want answers. So do I—just as much as you. I just can’t help feeling like I’m to blame for everything that’s happened.”
“Please don’t blame yourself. That’s the last thing I want, and I know it’s the last thing Mom or Elle would want either. Don’t you think Elle would be upset if she knew you were blaming yourself like this?”
Just as he pulls into our driveway, he switches off the ignition and turns to me. “You’re right, of course, but it’s something I have to live with, and I suppose I have to deal with it.”
I grab his hand. “I get that. Just know that I’m here if you need me.” I give his hand a little squeeze, and he squeezes back.
“I’m so lucky to have a daughter like you. I always knew you were special.” He releases my hand and motions towards the house. “Come. Let’s get some sleep, so we can be well-rested for your mother tomorrow.” I nod my head and follow him to the house. It looks uninviting now that I know Elle’s infectious smile won’t
be greeting me once we enter.
“It feels weird being back here,” I admit as he puts the key in the door.
“I know the feeling. I felt the same way the first night I got back.” We both cross the threshold, and it feels unnaturally cold in the house. My once warm and inviting home now feels empty and almost creepy. “It will take some time, but you’ll get used to being home again after a while.” I look at my dad as he places the car keys on the hall table. “Can I get you something to eat?” I ask, trying not to think of home in a way that I don’t want to. I just want to get back to normal life … something that’s a bit difficult when you’re being told your life is in danger.
“No, it’s okay. I think I may just have a long soak and shave this beard I have growing. It’s been a few days. Will you be okay on your own for about an hour?” I don’t know if I will, but I nod my head anyway. “You make sure you eat something. You look like you’ve lost quite a bit of weight. But I guess living homeless for almost three weeks will do that to you.” I smile and nod my head again. He frowns for a moment. “Did you not see anyone all that time? Did no one help you?”
I shook my head. “No. As I say, I just wandered in the forest for a few days until I came across an empty house. I broke in and lived there for a while. I was scared because I didn’t know who I was or what had happened to me.”
My dad looks at me, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s trying to work out whether I’m telling the truth. Eventually, he sighs. “It must have been tough on you … not knowing what was going on. I’m sorry you had to live through that. At least you remembered, and now you’re home. Now, you’re safe.”
I think about the word “safe” and remember J telling me that I am anything but. Despite what he said, I am with my dad now. I smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
He smiles back before running up the stairs two steps at a time. He must really want that bath. For a few seconds, I don’t move, but I know I should eat like my dad said. I’ve hardly eaten anything all day because of all the revelations I’ve had to process all at once.
I walk into the kitchen and start making a sandwich. Despite my father saying he wasn’t hungry, I make him one too and stash it in the refrigerator for him to eat later. As I’m finishing up mine, I start to hear the water run. I grab my plate and head upstairs to my room. I’m desperate to get out of these clothes and have a shower, but first, I need to fire up my laptop. I put my plate down, press the button on my laptop and put my hand in my pocket. As I grab the contents, I notice the pill that the nurse gave me earlier. I really must get some water soon and take that. I place the pill and the appointment card inside my desk drawer for now and smooth out the letter that J wrote to me. I know the pill is important to take, but for now, I need answers more.
I wait in agony as the laptop starts up. I take a few bites of my sandwich, punch in my password, and wait again for the screen to load. As it’s loading, I read through J’s letter again. Somehow, it breaks my heart more now than it did the first time around. I don’t know whether that’s because I know now just how much he betrayed me. He said I was going to hate him, and I guess he’s right.
As Google loads, I type in the name “Keith Masters.” It throws up a load of names on Facebook at first, so I try and see if looking under news articles will work better. As I’m biting into my sandwich again, a local Arkansas article from fifteen years ago grabs my attention.
Local Woman Drowns
Wendy Masters’ body was recovered yesterday in what looked to be a tragic boating accident. Wendy, 26, was on a party cruise Saturday afternoon, celebrating her birthday when she suddenly went missing. “It was quite some time before we were alerted,” the captain of the party cruise, Alora, said. “A couple who were celebrating with Wendy said they were concerned when at the end of the party, she couldn’t be found. We all searched the boat, and when we couldn’t find her, we alerted the authorities that she was missing.”
The detective in charge confirmed the next day that a body had washed up on shore. It wasn’t until the very next day that it was confirmed that it belonged to that of Wendy Masters.
She leaves behind two children, Charlotte, aged four, and Jarrod, aged six. For now, they will be placed in foster care until such time that the father can be located.
I stare at the screen wondering what it all means. Could this Jarrod be my J? He said he was from Arkansas, so it would all make sense if this was about him. The ages match up, but what does this story have to do with me?
I type in Keith Masters again, but with Arkansas at the end to see what connection he has to this family. I see another small article from around twenty-one years ago about a Wendy Walker announcing her marriage to Keith Masters in the same local newspaper. “Childhood Sweethearts Wed,” reads the headline. There is a small picture of the couple, so I click on it to enlarge it a little. The young woman in the photo looks very pretty. She has curly blonde hair and a big, bright smile. I squint, trying to figure out where I recognize the young man’s face from. He is smiling, just like she is, but his smile is not as animated as hers. He has darker hair and green eyes. I know those eyes. I just know I do.
I stare a little more, trying to figure out where I recognize him from. After a few more seconds it hits me.
I can’t breathe. My lungs have just ceased to work. It can’t possibly be, can it? I shake my head not wanting to believe it. J said I wouldn’t believe him, and he’s right. I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it. But I can’t erase that picture staring back at me. I can’t ignore or deny the eyes that seem like they’re boring into mine.
Please no. Please, God, no.
Jarrod Walker
Three Years Ago
I hate our fucking foster parents. They do nothing but fucking argue. The bitch takes drugs and all the asshole does is get drunk and leer at my sister. I don’t want to be in this nightmare any more than my sister does. Charlotte’s scared, and I am around her every chance I get. I’m starting to get noticed at school by the girls because I’m becoming pretty buff. I’ve been working out, but it’s only because I need to protect my sister—not because I want to get noticed. I do though, and some of the girls are so fit. I can tell they want me to ask them out, but how can I accept when I have my sister to look after? If I leave her alone for even five minutes, there’s no telling what could happen.
So, every morning, I walk my sister to school, and every afternoon afterwards, we walk back together. I am there—always there—to make sure she’s okay. As a thank you, she feeds me whatever she can rustle up from the fridge. Normally, there’s hardly anything there, so I started working at the local bowling alley three days a week after school and on Saturday’s. Charlotte comes with me and sits while I work. I get her drinks and feed her lunch while she’s there waiting for me. Luckily for me, the manager doesn’t mind so much.
Tonight, however, is a different story. My boss wants me alone as there’s a private bachelor party, so Charlotte isn’t welcome. At first, I tell him no, but he offers to pay me double. When I tell Charlotte, she begs me to take it so that we can save to go away somewhere once I finish school. The desperation in her voice is why I eventually give in and said yes. “I will be okay, Jarrod. I’ll go to my friend Lisa’s house until you’re finished. I’ll be fine,” she says.
Finally, I was nearing the end of my shift and cleaning the last plates of food and shit from the party. I was anxious to get my money and go get Charlotte to walk her home. I don’t want to go back to that shithole any more than she does, but at least when she’s with me, she’s safe.
At last, my boss tells me I can go, and I waste no time gathering my things to leave. I check my watch and see that it’s after midnight. I’m hoping Lisa’s parents are okay with Charlotte being over there so late on a Friday night. I practically run to her house because, unfortunately, we don’t have a car. It takes me around twenty minutes to get there, and when I do, all I can see is a single light coming from one room. I knock on the d
oor as quietly as I can so as not to disturb any of the surrounding neighbors. A couple of minutes later, a large man, who I assume is Lisa’s dad, answers the door with a beer in his hand. “Do you know what time it is?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I just came to pick my sister, Charlotte, up. If I can just get her, we’ll go. I finished work a little later than I’d hoped, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
He scratches his balding head. “She’s not here.”
My heart starts hammering. “What do you mean she’s not here?”
“She was here, but she left about an hour ago. It was getting late, so I sent her home.”
I growl in his direction. “You fucking asshole!” I shout, not caring that I am being impolite. “How could you have sent her home so late? She’s barely turned fifteen.” I rush off, and I can hear him shouting at me for being some ungrateful fuck, but I don’t care. The only thing I care about is getting home to my little sister and making sure she’s okay.
I run. I run until my lungs cry out with pain and the nausea comes. I want to be sick, but adrenaline is the only thing keeping me going. The house is almost three miles away, so every minute counts. Charlotte wouldn’t be sprinting home as fast I am, but if she left over an hour ago, she will definitely have been home for at least a half hour by the time I get to her, and that thought just makes me run even faster. In the end, as I turn the corner to our street, I note that it has taken me almost thirty minutes. I am exhausted and desperately need water, but my desperation to see my sister is far greater. As I rush through the door, I see that the lights are all on, but I can’t see or hear anything. I run up the stairs, calling my sister’s name, but no one is in sight—not even our bitch of a foster mother.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I hear a muffled scream followed by laughter coming from downstairs. I almost trip running down the stairs again. I head towards the basement door, and once I open it, I can smell the stench of marijuana and whisky. I can hear muffled crying, and my heart clenches when I realize it’s Charlotte. I rush down the stairs to try and save her from whatever is making her cry when I’m met by two men I have never seen before.
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