The Beginning After
Kiersten Modglin
Copyright © 2018 by Kiersten Modglin.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: 2018
First Electronic Edition: 2018
Formatting: Bite Me Graphic Design
www.kierstenmodglinauthor.weebly.com
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To anyone struggling with losing a loved one. To anyone who has ever felt like they weren’t good enough. And to everyone who’s ever spent so much time taking care of those around them, they forgot to take care of themselves.
You are more than enough.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Untitled
Also By Kiersten Modglin
One
PEIGHTON
If someone had told Peighton Claiborne that warm June morning would be the very last time she’d ever see her husband alive, she might’ve done things differently. Perhaps she wouldn’t have rushed out the door so quickly, barely brushing her lips over his as she passed through the hall; maybe she would’ve held him tight, breathing in his familiar earthy smell one last time and whispering how much she loved him in his ear. But, as she bustled out of the house that morning, a morning like so many mornings before that, Peighton barely looked twice at the man she loved. She would see him in a few hours, she thought, and that was that.
As she climbed into her car, she stared at the long stretch of driveway ahead of her, silently complaining about the yard that seemed to grow faster each year. Todd would have to mow again this weekend. And like usual, she would have to remind him. Given his track record…she would have to remind him several times. She pulled out of the driveway quickly, glancing at the clock and silently cursing. She was running late once again. Of course. She fidgeted with the radio, trying desperately to find something other than a weather forecast, rain, rain, and more rain, or an advertisement, finally settling on a station playing music from the young boybands that reminded her of Kyle’s childhood.
She drove mindlessly, the same path she’d been driving for years, and let her mind wander. Watching the rain patter down on the windshield, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of gloom as she pulled into the office: this was only the beginning of the storm.
“Rough morning?” a familiar voice called from behind her as she opened her car door.
She laughed. “Aren’t they all?” she asked, raising her oversized coffee mug into the air as she attempted to cover it with her umbrella, water droplets already soaking her gray skirt.
Alexis held out her hands from under her umbrella. “Need me to grab something?”
Peighton sighed, slamming her car door and attempting to hand over her coffee cup while she struggled with her briefcase, purse, and umbrella. “Thanks.”
As the women walked into the small office building, they were greeted by a few of their co-workers warmly. They shook off their umbrellas, running their hands over their wet clothes, and walked into Peighton’s office.
Alexis set Peighton’s coffee cup down. “Todd’s not coming in today?”
“No.” Peighton shook her head, without explanation. For the first time that morning, she looked up at her friend, noticing the darkness that filled the skin under her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She smiled, yawning as if on cue. “Drake has a cold, I think. We were up all night with him.”
“Poor baby,” Peighton groaned. “Are you taking him to the doctor?”
“Yeah, Micah is home with him. I was going to see about cutting out early if we aren’t too busy.”
“Of course. You know you don’t even have to ask.”
“I know, but the campaign—”
“Is months away,” Peighton said. “If you need time off, you take it. Lord knows I remember those days. It’s rough. I was just lucky I had an amazing boss.” She winked, teasing, as she opened the laptop on her desk. “Go ahead and go whenever you need.”
“Thanks. Is there anything you need from me this morning? I’m going to make a few phone calls to see about getting more people lined up for the community outreach programs Elijah has planned…should I count you in for those?”
“What are the dates again?” Peighton asked, pulling out her organizer, heavily clad with varied pen colors.
“The…eleventh, fourteenth, and eighteenth.” Alexis’ eyes rolled up to the ceiling as she recalled the dates.
“Okay, yeah. Put us down for all of them. Todd should be able to be there all three days, I have an appointment the 14th, but I can see about rescheduling. Is that the one in the park?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, yeah. We’ll be there.” She nodded, scribbling down notes on those dates.
“Great. I’ll make sure to notate that. What else can I do for you this morning?”
“That’s all I need. Once you’ve done what you need to, go on home and take care of that baby.” Peighton opened her laptop, typing a note into her spreadsheet and pulling up Outlook.
“Thanks, Peighton, I will. See you later,” she said as she backed out of her office, shutting the door.
Peighton picked up her phone, clicking on her most recent caller. The iPhone screen went dark as it began dialing. It rang six times before she heard his voice.
“You’ve reached the voicemail box of Senator Todd Claiborne. I’m so sorry I missed your call, but please leave me your name, number, and a brief message, and I will get back to you by the end of the day. Thank you so much.”
“Hey babe, it’s just me. I’ll try you again later. Love you.”
As Peighton hung up the phone, something in her gut felt wrong. It spread through her insides, chilling them. Goosebumps spread across her arms, making her hair stand on end. She frowned, staring at her phone. She’d had a feeling like this only once before: when, in Kindergarten, Kyle had broken his arm at school after falling off a slide. She tried to push the feeling away, continuing to work. After an hour had passed, the feeling consistentl
y growing stronger, she finally gave in. Realizing it wasn’t going away, she sent her husband a text.
Peighton: Have you heard from Kyle?
Without waiting for a text back, she scrolled through her recent calls, trying to find one to her son. Her heart felt heavy as she realized it had been nearly a month since she’d spoken to him on the phone. Lately they spoke more in brief statements passing each other, him always busy with school and friends, and her with work, errands, and the upcoming campaign.
As she landed on her son’s name, she pressed it, listening to the line ring. When he answered, he sounded annoyed. “Hello?”
She could hear his friends laughing in the background. “Kyle? Is everything okay?”
“Um, yeah?” he responded, the anger in his voice growing. “What do you want, Mom?”
“I just…something doesn’t feel right. Where are you?”
“Everything’s fine, Mom. Can I go?”
“Where are you, Kyle?”
“I’m…at Toby’s house.”
He was lying, his voice wavering just a bit as he said it, but Peighton didn’t have time to worry about what mischief he might be getting into. “I’m coming to get you.”
“What? Why? What did I do?” She heard him shuffling around and the background noise grew softer, as he must have left the room. “I don’t want you to come get me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I’m not saying you have, Kyle. Something just doesn’t feel right.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his exasperation growing. “I’m with my friends, Mom. This is embarrassing.”
“Have you talked to your dad?”
“Not since I left the house. Why?”
Peighton stood up from her desk, closing her laptop and shoving her files into her desk drawer. Her hands shook as she turned the key and locked the desk, spinning and rushing out of the building without a word to anyone.
“Where are you at, Kyle?”
“I told you…I’m at Toby’s.”
She pressed the button on her keys to unlock the red SUV in the parking lot. “I’m coming to get you.”
He paused for a moment before letting out a sigh. “I’m at Jessica’s. Over by the park.”
“Stay right there,” she warned, too worried to scold him for lying. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Whatever,” he said heatedly, before the line went dead.
“I love you,” Peighton whispered, like usual it was said long after her son had quit listening.
Two
PEIGHTON
When Peighton pulled up to where her son stood, red faced with clenched fists, she all but leapt from the car on her way to him. She gathered him in her arms, her heart immediately calming. “Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing his shoulders and looking him over.
“I’m fine, Mom, god,” he insisted, pushing her off of him as he looked over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being seen. He rushed to the car, opening the passenger’s side door, and climbing in, his head down.
She walked around to the driver’s side, staring at him as she buckled her seat belt. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” she said, the worried feeling still not completely eased.
“Whatever,” he said, kicking his feet up on the dashboard and placing a hand on his forehead, his mind already lost in his phone. They drove in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke again. “So, am I grounded or what?”
“What?” she asked, looking his way.
“For being at Jessica’s. We weren’t doing anything, Mom. Just hanging out. Toby, Bryant, Jason, Kedrian, and two other girls from school.”
“Oh,” she said, trying to collect her thoughts. Her son’s lie was the last thing on her mind. “If you weren’t doing anything wrong, why would you need to lie about it?”
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me, Kyle.”
“It’s just…I know you don’t like her.”
“I never said I don’t like her,” she said, her body tensing at his words.
“So, you do like her?”
She paused. The very few times she’d seen Jessica DeLong, she’d been dressed in what could hardly be called clothing with enough eyeliner to last Taylor Momsen a year surrounding her eyes. She wasn’t exactly a mother’s dream. “Kyle, I don’t know her. What happened to Charlotte? I thought you liked her.”
“Mom,” he sighed. “Just forget it.”
Before she could say anything else, they pulled into the long drive that led to their subdivision and both gasped. Kyle threw his legs to the ground, leaning forward into the seat to try to get a better look. “What is that?”
She couldn’t answer, her entire body shaking as she pulled as close to their house as she could. They both stared at the swarm of ambulance and police cars that lined their driveway, spilling out into the yard.
“Kyle, stay here,” she instructed him, though she knew it was useless. He leapt out of the car, leaving the door wide open, and barreled through the yellow tape surrounding their house. Peighton was close behind. From the outside, the house looked completely normal. She looked for signs of a fire or other emergency that would warrant this type of attention. Suddenly, there was a police officer in front of them, his hand up.
“You can’t go through here, son,” he told Kyle.
“It’s okay. We live here,” Peighton said. “Can you tell us what’s happening?”
“Oh,” the man said, his face immediately falling. Peighton knew what was coming before he spoke again. He grabbed hold of her arm. “Ma’am, would you like to talk in private?”
“Is it my dad?” Kyle asked, his voice small and reserved.
The man sighed, crossing his arms, and looking at Peighton for guidance. Peighton put her arms around her son, her eyes remaining on the officer.
“Is he all right?” she begged him to answer, tears welling in her eyes.
“There is a man inside the house who has been confirmed dead, ma’am. We don’t know for certain who it is yet. I’m very sorry.”
Peighton’s knees gave way under her. “I’m sorry—what?” she asked, though she had been expecting it. “I can’t…I can’t…” She clutched her chest, sinking slowly to the ground. Her son stood beside her, a solid wall of silence. She kept hold of his leg with her free hand, squeezing him tight. The world around her seemed to go still, though she could still hear the officer speaking, see him reaching down toward her. She took a deep breath, wiping the tears away.
“What happened?” she asked from the ground where she was crouched.
“We don’t know yet,” he answered softly.
“What do you know?” she asked, standing up slowly, yet still unable to look the officer in the eye. Her voice felt as though it were coming from someone else entirely, steady and sure, though she felt anything but.
“I’m afraid we don’t know much, ma’am. We responded to a 911 call around an hour ago. A neighbor heard a scream from inside the house and grew worried—” he stopped talking just as the front door of the house was swept open. “Stand back,” he told them, holding his arm out to push them back, though they were still in the yard several feet from the front porch.
Peighton’s hand flew to her mouth, her body shaking, as Kyle shoved past the cop. “Dad! That’s my dad!” he screamed, rushing toward the stretcher cloaked in a white sheet. Peighton could see the blood that had begun seeping through the white cloth; her stomach churned. She watched helplessly as her son approached the police officers and coroner, begging to see his father. She watched their solemn faces as they tried to hold him back, their eyes darting to her for help. She was supposed to help them. She was supposed to stop her son from trying to break their barricade, stop him from trying to see the very thing that would destroy him. She knew that and yet she could not move, could not stop her body from shaking, her skin from growing cold. She was back on the ground, her sobs swallowing her up as she watched her world crashing
all around her.
As the back of the coroner’s van was closed and the officers began loading up into their vehicles, the man standing next to her grabbed her arm, gently helping her to her feet. “Ma’am, when you’re ready, I’m going to have to have you and your son come with me.”
“Come with you? Come with you where? I need to go inside…I need to talk to my son.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible right now. We have to ask you some questions, get an official I.D. on the vic. I’m so sorry.” His eyes grew soft as he said the word, vic—victim. “You won’t be able to go into your home for a few days. Not until the investigation is over.”
“What are you…what does that…my son…I can’t…our home…this is—” her thoughts tumbled out of her mouth, not making any sense to either of them, yet the officer seemed to understand.
He touched her shoulder. “Do you have somewhere you can stay?”
“Yes,” she said, though she had no idea if that were true. “We’ll…it’ll be okay.”
“Okay,” the officer spoke softly. “Okay, that’s good.”
Peighton nodded, trying to collect her thoughts. She glanced around, looking for Kyle. He stood at the edge of the porch, staring off in the direction they had taken the body. “Kyle, honey, come back here,” she called. He turned, staring blankly, and began walking back toward her, tears streaming down his porcelain face. She spoke to the officer again. “Can you, um, tell us what…what happened?” she asked, choking out her words.
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