The Night Orchid

by M. G. Hernandez

  She smiles. “I guess we both know who you’ve been waiting for this entire time. I’ve never seen you come alive since she walked through those halls.”

  She takes my hand. “I’m sorry for cheating on you, Ian. What we did to you and Lexie was wrong. No amount of your detachment from me can ever justify me sleeping with another guy.”

  I lean forward and kiss her on the forehead. “I forgive you, and I’m sorry for neglecting you.”

  She shakes her head. “It was only a matter of time before you guys find each other. You, two, have this special bond. Like you’re able to read each other’s minds. It was like that in elementary school, and it’s the same way now when you stare at each other from across the room. I hope someday I can find that for myself.”

  “You will.” I pat her hand.

  She sighs. “I guess we were both just nursing our bruised hearts with each other until our mind forced us to face who we really wanted. Except for me, I have no such happy ending.”

  My lips tighten. “Bianca, you’re only eighteen. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to find love.”

  She nods and smiles. We stay in the car for another twenty minutes until she finally lets me go. I give her a hug and get out of the car. This feels like a goodbye and a good closure between us. As I climb up the stairs, I think about how even through my exhaustion I can’t wait for the new day—for a new beginning. Finally, I feel at peace.

  Chapter 69

  Josephine

  “Isaiah 43:3 says, ‘When you pass through the waters, I will be with you and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sleep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned. The flames will not set you ablaze.’ Strengthen your hearts and take comfort in the Lord and each other…”

  A warm breeze with notes of gardenia and citrus blows through my hair as Father William speaks. I close my eyes and acknowledge it as a message from Alexa.

  A week has passed since my abduction, and I’m in the Holy Cross Cemetery gathered with her friends and families to say goodbye. I hear sniffles, including my mom’s, who stands next to me.

  The familiar breeze and the goosebumps make me glance above the sea of black and gaze at a lone tree from afar. A figure in white stands guard, flowing hair shining beneath the sun despite the brief gusts of wind.

  Alexa is the most radiant I’ve ever seen. I lock eyes and focus my energy towards her. Telepathically, I profess my deepest gratitude. I understand, now, why she was in the basement with me. If it were not for her, Julian may not have found me. According to Mama Nilda, spirits typically leave after the nine days but may stay if they have unfinished business. I guess I was her unfinished business.

  Without warning, she fades, leaving me with nothing more than the familiar scent of the Brassavola Nodosa—The Lady of the Night.

  Two nights ago, she visited me in my new room at my grandmother’s apartment. She was standing next to my window with the light of the moon illuminating her. I remember sitting up, feeling no sense of fear—just familiarity, like an old friend who dropped by to visit. She walked towards me and reached out her hand to show the orchid that had decorated her temporary grave. She spoke again, a recent talent she learned.

  “I’m leaving soon, Josephine. Please give this to my parents.”

  I took it from her while she gave me a message. As soon as I gave her the reassurance, she faded away, along with the flower in my hand.

  “Jo, are you ready?” Julian interrupts my thoughts.

  I blink and turn to him. The glow from the sun bounces off his head, creating a golden halo around his wavy blond hair, and I’m distracted for a moment. He raises an eyebrow as he returns my glance from beneath his long lashes.

  “Are you ok?” he asks. “The service just ended and you look kinda out of it.”

  I nod. He softens his gaze and takes out a handkerchief from his breast pocket. Dabbing the corner of my right eye with the tip of the folded cloth, he adds, “Your mascara runneth, milady. Have you been crying?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Nope.” Of course I have.

  He smiles, places a rose in my hand and leads me to the line for the casket. I see Bianca at the end, being supported by her cheer friends as she waits for her turn. When I reach the coffin and place the single rose on top, I lay my hand on the smooth wood. “Thank you. Rest now and be at peace.”

  When we return to our spot, I watch Brandon place both palms on her casket. His face is unreadable, except for the sadness in his brown eyes. Then he turns and walks away, hunched shoulders and head bowed low. Julian motions for me to follow him, and we walk over to our friend. They don’t say a single word to each other, but as the staff lower the casket, Julian grips his shoulder for support. I see the tears drop from Brandon’s eyes as he watches his beloved being lowered to the ground.

  Several minutes later, the men shovel dirt over her burial ground while everyone offers their condolences to the Ocampos. In the meantime, Julian places a small pot in my hands. I press my lips together as my brain registers the orchid. I’m reminded of what I’m tasked to do.

  The morning after my dream, Julian took me to his grandmother’s house at my request. While at her garden, I asked for one of her orchids, and she was willing and gracious. Now, I’m walking over to Alexa’s mom to present my gift.

  “Josephine,” said Mrs. Ocampo, giving me a tight squeeze. “Kamusta ka na? How are you?” Then, clasping my hands, she adds, “I’m sorry about what happened. I’m glad we got you back safe. Don’t worry, we are fighting for both of you. He won’t get away with this.”

  “I just hope he stays behind bars. Thank goodness, there’s no bail set for him.”

  She narrows her eyes and clenches her fist. “He’s charged with two murders and kidnapping. There better not be any bail.”

  I nod, completely understanding her anger. Then she softens her eyes. “I’m sorry. Trying to get justice for my daughter has consumed me.”

  I clutch the plant closer to my chest. My mother has been doing the same. She’s been working with her lawyers to prepare for this trial, and she also has to work with Child Protective Services for the case against my adoptive parents. There were plenty of times this week when I had to calm her frazzled nerves.

  “I have something for you,” I said.

  She raises her brow and points to my orchid. “Is that for me?”

  I nod and bite my lip. “I don’t know if you believe in spirits communicating through dreams, and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way… but uh… I had a dream about Alexa.”

  Her breath hitches and her eyes become glassy at my announcement. “You don’t have to believe it, but I’d rather let you decide whether it’s a message from her than it being lost because I didn’t take the chance.”

  She squeezes my hand as she fights a lip quiver. “It’s ok. Please share it with me.”

  I take a deep breath. “In my dream, Alexa told me to give this to you both.” I pause and place the pot in her hands. “They call this the Brassavola Nodosa, and its unique characteristic is that it only emits its scent at night. She hopes that when you guys smell the fragrance, you two will remember her, and it will provide comfort knowing that she will always be with you both.”

  She cries, and I worry that I hurt her. But, she takes me in her arms and squeezes me. “Thank you, my dear. It’s a wonderful dream, and I will take care of this orchid forever. It is a precious gift.”

  Another curious warm breeze envelopes us and a soft laugh escapes her lips. She releases my arms and looks at me with a smile. “I think she’s at peace. Now, it’s my turn to work on mine. Take care of yourself and please don’t be a stranger. You’re always welcome in our home.”

  ***

  After saying goodbye to my mom and grandma, who both allowed me to ride with Julian, I search for him among the dwindling crowd. I hear my name, and I find him leaning against a tree. He grins as I near him and reaches into the pocket of his slim fit trousers.

/>   “Are you ready to go, Fartface?” I ask.

  He chucks his keys at me. “If you’re ready to drive.”

  I purse my lips. Last week, he took me to the DMV to take my test. With my permit, he takes me driving, so I can practice. I think I’m getting better at it.

  “Come on, Godzilla Breath. I’m hungry.”

  I follow him to his car. “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says over his shoulders.

  I huff. “Man, this better be good.”

  A few minutes later, I’m driving along downtown Wakefield. Julian gives me directions while ignoring my questions on our destination. When we reach the quieter part of town, I relax and allow one hand to let go of the steering wheel. “You know, I’m feeling more comfortable on the road now. I bet you I can take the road test in a few weeks.”

  “Not so fast, speed racer,” he says with a chuckle. “You could use a little more practice.”

  “Nah, I got this.”

  He shifts and faces me. “You see that car in front of you?”

  I nod.

  “She was an old lady who overtook you and flipped you off as she passed. You’re driving 15 miles per hour in a 35 mile per hour zone.”

  I laugh. “You’re lying—about the grandma part. But yeah, I am driving slow, aren’t I?

  “Yeah, you could go a little faster.”

  I follow his advice. When I reach the speed limit, I let my right hand rest on the gear lever. Khalid’s new mid-tempo, R&B song, “Talk,” is playing on the radio, and I croon. Suddenly, Julian’s hand warms mine as he places it on top. Clasping my palm, he leans back on the headrest and places his other hand behind his head. I release a contented sigh as we enjoy this quiet serenity between us.

  He breaks the moment. “Ok, go left on Johnson Street, then go all the way up that winding road.”

  “Dude, seriously, where are we going?”

  “Patience is not your virtue, is it?” Then he directs me to make a turn.

  After ten more minutes of driving, we reach a lookout. He tells me to park, but I barely hear him as my eyes feast on the breathtaking view and the entire Wakefield town.

  He tugs my elbow. “Let’s get out of the car.”

  After I catch my breath, I hop out, feeling the cool breeze hit my face. He takes a basket out of the trunk and leads me through a trail that leads us straight into a bluff with a lone Sierra Juniper tree. I watch in awe as I take in the panoramic views.

  “You’ll catch flies.” Julian laughs as he passes me.

  “This is so beautiful.” I follow him towards a lone Sierra Juniper tree, standing tall and proud at thirty-nine feet. Then I frown as a thought enters my head. “This isn’t one of your make-out spots, is it? Coz that’s super awkward.”

  He rolls his eyes as he fluffs the blanket, letting it billow in the wind. “Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”

  “Ewww!”

  He laughs. “Just kidding, Jo. You don’t remember this place, do you?”

  I furrow my brows and cock my head to the side. “Should I?”

  He sighs. “This was our first adventure when we were eight. We went camping here during summer camp?”

  A light bulb turns on in my head. “Is this spot where I told you I could see dead people?”

  He nods. “But not only that. If you hike down, there’s a watering hole…”

  “Oh shit! Old Man Pond is down there? That was our old stomping ground.”

  “Yup. And to answer your question, I took no girl to this hangout to makeout.” He takes a seat on the picnic blanket. “But I’ve come here alone to catch a breather.”

  My memory brings me to the last three years of our lives. We both took different paths, but we traversed lonely roads as we navigated a world that consumed us. If fate had not torn us apart, our days might have looked rosier and brighter.

  “You weren’t the only one separated from the world, Jo. The only difference is you were alone in your home while I was alone in the crowd.”

  I arch a brow at him. “Jules, can you read minds?”

  He shakes his head, making his wavy hair flop to his forehead. “Nope. I’m just connected to you.”

  I eye him as he removes his black blazer and his tie. I can’t argue with that. Finally, I turn my attention to the blanket. He’s busy taking things out from the basket, and I see sandwiches, blocks of cheese, lemonade and packages of Milano cookies. My eyes widen at the spread. “Did you prepare all of this?”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me next to him. I land with a thud on the blue cloth as his arms wrap around my waist to steady me. “This is so awesome, Jules. Thank you.”

  He laughs as he hands me my sandwich. “Don’t get too excited. It’s just a ham sandwich with lettuce and tomatoes.”

  I face him and smile. “I’m not complaining.”

  His eyes soften as he meets my gaze. Then he traces my lips with his thumb. He bites his lip as he takes in the fullness of my mouth while I hold my breath in anticipation. But then he pauses and takes his finger away. He gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek instead and whispers, “we’ll have plenty of time for that later, won’t we?” Then he leans away and gives me my beverage. “Anyway, I hope you like your lunch.”

  I press my lips together as I try to squash the butterflies in my stomach. My stomach does a flip-flop from nervous excitement. “Eat. I need to eat.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he says between bites of his sandwich.

  As I unwrap my food, I let myself enjoy my picnic with a view. Lately, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night afraid of what’s lurking behind the curtain, what’s banging outside my window or the footsteps outside my door. These are phantoms in my mind—remnants of the violence Mr. Cunningham had inflicted upon me. But right now, that nightmare doesn’t exist, and I’m a pupa cocooned in its protective silky case.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” I hear Julian.

  I shrug. “Nothing special. Just feeling very content at the moment.”

  He shifts in his seat. “How are you doing though, Jo? Really.”

  I furrow my brows. “I’m getting there. I’ll be alright.”

  “I got you. You know that, right?”

  I nudge his shoulders and give him a teasing smile. “You got my back, bro?”

  “Always.” He looks at me with that dewy-eyed look, eyes soft underneath those long lashes.

  I look away, feeling self-conscious. “Hey Jules, can we debrief about what happened?”

  “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

  “So, how were they able to match Mr. Cunningham’s DNA with the skin cells underneath Alexa’s fingernails?”

  Julian sets his second ham sandwich on the blanket and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Mr. Cunningham was already a suspect in Athena’s murder. The police found a picture of him on her phone, and he became a person of interest. During the investigation, he became a suspect, and they took a DNA sample from him. Anyway, because of the similarities of their deaths and the love letters, they compared the DNA profile from Alexa’s fingernails to those of Mr.Cunningham’s that was already stored in the database.”

  “Why do we only know this now?”