by Abby Wilder
"You need help, both of you," Cara said, stepping out from behind the workshop. "Professional help." She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side, looking at me. "It happened to your grandmother, didn't it? It could happen to you. Insanity might run in the family."
Ruben dropped my hands.
"Cara," Judah growled. But she just lifted an eyebrow, challenging him.
"You know nothing about Grams," I said, and when I turned back, Ruben was gone.
"I know enough to realise that no one lives in a nursing home for that many years without there being a reason for it. What was the name of the home she lived in before this one? Hollow's Rest for Peace of Mind, or some such thing. You know that was originally a lunatic asylum. Hardly what you'd call a raging endorsement for sanity."
Mum pulled up before I could respond, and got out of the car, her arms filled with grocery bags. "Will you stay for dinner, Judah?"
Judah stepped back. "No. I mean, no thank you Mrs—" He paused.
"Mrs Armistead," she finished for him and I saw Cara wince. "And of course you'll stay. Flynn and I have something to announce." A flash of panic ran through me. What was the announcement going to be this time? I was still getting used to the last one.
"Sounds like a family matter," Judah said. "I wouldn't want to impose."
"Don't be silly," Mum replied, walking up the worn steps to the house. "It's something that concerns you too."
Judah, Cara and I all sat in the lounge with the TV on but none of us watched it as Mum prepared dinner. Judah attempted to excuse himself a number of times but Mum refused to let him leave. She chatted away from the kitchen, calling out questions, completely oblivious to the tension that existed in the next room. By the time dinner came, Judah was almost as pale as I was. His teeth were gritted together and his smile was too tight. Cara didn't smile at all. I stared at the bowls on the table, one filled with rice and the other with a casserole, or something that resembled a casserole, at least. I thought Mum's cooking skills may have improved, until I tasted it.
"What is this?" I asked, forcing myself to swallow.
"You need iron," Mum stated.
"Okay," I said slowly and stabbed a piece of the meat with my fork. "But what is it?"
Mum took a mouthful and chewed for a few moments before swallowing painfully and answering, "Lamb's fry and bacon."
Cara pushed her plate away. "Liver?"
Mum nodded and took another mouthful. Flynn reached across and covered her hand. "Shelley thought it might do Lennon some good to have more iron in her system. She looks so rundown these days. She just wanted to help. Eat," he instructed Cara.
"No," Cara said, shaking her head. "I'm not eating that."
Both Cara and I had stopped eating but Judah was still lifting spoonfuls to his mouth. "What?" he said. "I've got no problem with it."
"So what's this big announcement you want to make?" Cara asked, crossing her arms and pushing her chair back from the table. "I've got homework to do."
Mum and Flynn shared another of their secret smiles and clasped hands again. "Since neither Shelley nor I went on a honeymoon the first time around," another stupid shared grin passed between them, "we've booked a cruise. We're leaving tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" I repeated.
"Oh, I know it's bad timing with you feeling unwell and everything, but Flynn got a fantastic deal. I've been counting down the days." Mum squeezed Flynn's hand.
"Judah, I've organised for Simon to look after the shop, but I will need you to increase your hours for the next two weeks. Is that okay?"
"Two weeks?" Cara repeated. "You're leaving me here, alone, for two weeks?"
"Not alone, honey," Flynn said. "Lennon will be here with you. We feel you girls are responsible enough to look after yourselves for a couple of weeks. We will leave you enough money, you both own cars, and you never spend any time with either of us anyway, so I don't see what the problem is."
"You don't see what the problem is," Cara repeated.
"Must you repeat everything I say?" Flynn said, frustrated.
"Way to be there for me, Dad," she shot back, getting up from the table and storming to her room, slamming the door.
Judah stood. "I think I should be going."
Flynn pushed out his chair and extended his hand to Judah. "I'm sorry about that. She hasn't been the same since—" He didn't say any more, but Judah nodded and shook his outstretched hand. "I'm sorry she still blames you," Flynn added.
"So am I," Judah said.
Chapter Thirty Six
Ruben – the previous year
The police never arrested Judah. Even though everything pointed to him being the driver of the car, there was no way to prove it. And thanks to the vandalism of the Fairlane, there was no way to actually prove that it was even the car that hit Lana.
The day of the funeral dawned bright and crisp. I was awake to see the sun spread over the grass, watch the way the frost twinkled in the light of the early sun. It was becoming somewhat of a routine for me, watching the sunrise. Sleep was filled with too many nightmares.
Judah and I wore our school uniform. Judah had even tucked in his shirt and straightened his tie. Mum tried to convince him not to come, but he wouldn't hear a word of it. He insisted he needed to be there for Cara, though I know that she hadn't returned his calls in days. And I hadn't returned hers.
The church was small and quaint and unaccustomed to this many people descending on it at once. The entire rugby team formed a line in front of the steps. They separated when Mum and Dad approached and let them walk in. They clapped me on the back and shook hands with sombre respect. But when Judah approached, hands stuffed in his pockets and head down, they closed ranks and blocked the entrance. Judah sighed and attempted to pass, but Ross shoved him back.
"You're not welcome," he spat at Judah.
"Come on, guys," I said, walking back down the steps. "Let him pass."
Ross crossed his arms and shook his head. "No way. Do you really think they want him here?"
"Let me by," Judah said and attempted to push past Ross again.
"No," Ross said firmly. "The police may not have been able to prove that you killed her, but we all know you did."
The door to the church opened, letting out faint strains of organ music, and Cara walked out. She came to stand beside me, wearing a simple black dress and kissed my cheek. I recoiled from her touch but she didn't seem to notice. Her gaze was fixed on Judah, her eyes glimmering with spite.
"Cara," Judah called out.
Cara ignored him and looped her arm through mine, pulling me towards the door. "Come in," she said. "It's about to start. I want you with me in there. I need you."
"Me?" I questioned. A thick knot formed in the back of my throat.
"Cara," Judah called out again, but it was weak, desperate and broken. Cara looked through him, then tilted her chin, twisting away from him, and dragging me towards the door.
"She doesn't want you here," Ross said.
"It's got nothing to do with you," Judah growled. "Cara! Cara, it wasn't me. You've got to believe me."
But Cara yanked on my arm just as Judah ran at Ross, trying to tear his way through the line. I watched as they shoved him away and he fell to the ground. The door closed just as they kicked him in the gut.
"We can't leave him out there," I said to Cara.
But she wrapped her hand tighter around my arm. "He killed my sister, Ruben."
"But the police—"
Her eyes flashed. "I don't care what the police said. I saw you give him the keys, Ruben, I know it was him. He may have fooled me before, but he won't do it again."
Cara sat stiffly through the service while her mother sobbed in the seat next to her. Squished between Cara and the end of the aisle, I felt out of place. Every word spoken was an accusation. The walls seemed to be chanting, 'we know you did it', and I was certain a mark of guilt was burned on my forehead. The photo of Lana at the front of the church followed
me with her eyes. I tried to avoid it, but once, when I braved a glance, she was pointing straight at me with those chipped nails and bloodied fingers.
"Leave me alone," I whispered as a cold sweat crept over my body.
"What did you say?" Cara asked as the minister droned on about Lana's love of horses and her dream to one day own one. "Are you alright?"
I jerked my head to look at her. "I'm fine." But the words sounded foreign, as though they came out of someone else's mouth.
"You're shaking." She clutched onto my arm, trying to still my quivering with her own strength.
"I'm fine." I smiled weakly and patted her arm, hoping she didn't notice the sweat beading on the back of my neck.
Judah was waiting as soon as we walked out of the church. "Cara," he said, breaking through the crowd and walking over to us.
Ross blocked his path, having appointed himself Cara's defender.
"Move," Judah ordered.
Ross crossed his arms and glared at him. "Don't you get it? You're not wanted here."
Judah pushed past and reached for Cara's arm but she recoiled. "Don't touch me," she hissed.
"Cara, please." Judah's voice was drenched in desperation. "Please Cara, it wasn't me. You've got to believe me." He looked at me. "Tell her I didn't do it, Ruben, tell her," he pleaded.
"There were witnesses, Judah," she roared at him. The people gathered in the carpark started to whisper and stare.
"They're lying," Judah said weakly.
"You're accusing your own brother of lying now?" Cara said. She tightened her grip on my arm. "You hear that, Ruben? He's calling you a liar."
"It's not what you think." But I couldn't say any more without revealing the truth. And it was a truth I couldn't live with.
"Stop defending him," Ross interjected, stepping between Judah and Cara. "We all know he did it, and the feeble excuses of his brother won't change anything. Distance yourself from him, Ruben, or you'll end up getting the same treatment. We don't want his kind around here. God doesn't look kindly on killers."
Anger coursed through Judah's veins. I could see it in the flush of his cheeks, the desperation in his eyes, but he took a deep breath and stepped back. "If you would just listen to me, Cara," he said.
But Ross blocked his path and Cara walked away, leaving me to face the daggered and pained look from my brother.
"I don't care what the other's think. I don't care if the whole town believes I'm guilty, but not Cara. You've got to put this right, Ruben," he said coldly.
I glanced around at the people watching and spoke quietly. "I can't do that."
"Why not?" Judah hissed.
"Because she'd go to the police and it would ruin everything. I'd get convicted of manslaughter. I can't go to prison."
"I can't have Cara thinking I killed her sister. I won't do it. I'll come clean, tell the police everything," he warned.
I hated doing it. I hated looking into his eyes and speaking the words, but if I didn't, he could ruin everything, and I just couldn't run that risk. "And who would believe you?" I said.
I walked away and left him alone in the carpark surrounded by people who believed he was a killer.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Judah - the previous year
"Go away." Cara stood on the sagging porch, arms crossed and refusing to look at me. There was a defiance to her stance that I was familiar with. She wasn't going to listen, but I still had to try.
"Just listen," I pleaded.
"I'll call the police," she warned.
Cara's father pulled into the driveway and got out of the 1956 Chevy Bel Air, holding a parcel. The scent of hot chips and warm newspaper wafted over. I couldn't remember the last time I ate.
"Judah," he said, tucking the parcel under his arm and holding his hand out for me to shake. "Come join us for dinner."
"Dad," Cara warned, taking no care to hide her disdain for his suggestion.
"Cara," he replied, walking up the steps and hanging his arm over the shoulder of his daughter. "If the police say he didn't do it, he didn't do it."
"Only they never said that. They said they couldn't prove it."
Cara's dad handed her the parcel and walked back down the steps. He was slightly shorter than me, so looked up, staring intently. "Did you do it?" he asked solemnly.
"No. I did not." I didn't let my gaze waver. I didn't let the hesitation I felt inside, show on the outside. At least, I hoped I didn't. I answered with the truth, but I was still hiding part of it.
He nodded. "Good enough for me." And then he turned to Cara. "We've known this young man for years. He's spent evenings in my house and countless hours playing with you. He's carried Lana on his shoulders and listened to her lame jokes. If he says he didn't do it, then I believe him. I suggest you do the same. This family is going through enough without adding the loss of good friends. I won't be sucked into this witch-hunt the town seems intent on, not at the expense of someone I know. I've already got enough pain to deal with." And then he walked inside, leaving Cara glaring at me silently.
I took a step forward. "I didn't do it, Cara, you've got to believe me."
"How can you look me in the eye and say that?" Cara walked down two of the steps, her arms still hugging the parcel of fish and chips, and glared at me. "Does she haunt your dreams?" She stopped on the step so we were eye level. "Do you have images of her slowly drowning crossing through your mind? Because I do." Tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away furiously. "And I'll tell you something, they are worse than any nightmare I've ever had, because they are true. I never want to see you again, Judah Mitchell. Leave." She walked back up the steps.
"Cara—"
"Leave!" she screamed. "Go away! I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. I want nothing to do with you! Do you hear? Nothing!"
I stumbled as I took a step back, as though her words held some force that drove me away. I tried to plead with her to listen, but she continued to scream so loudly I was afraid that someone would call the police, and then I would look guiltier than ever.
"I'll leave," I assured her, holding out my hands, begging for her mercy. "I'll leave."
Cara's shoulders heaved. Her eyes flashed. She had a thousand expressions and I wished I had never seen that one.
I stumbled home through the trees, unaware of which direction I was going, but not caring. All I could see were Cara's eyes, burning with hatred. I wished I could tell her the truth but I was beginning to doubt she would believe me, even if I could get her to listen. I just wished there was something I could do to go back and rewind everything, make it all better.
With my body on autopilot, I was close to home when I heard voices. There were whoops and cheers, the thudding of feet on the ground, and whispers of my name floating through the trees. I knew who it would be before I saw them. My heart skipped a few beats and I picked up the pace, not wanting to know what would happen if they caught me. I wondered if Cara had called them, asked them to teach me a lesson, or if it was just bad luck they happened to see me. Either way, I knew what they wanted.
I was just about at the end of the forest, in fact, I could see part of the house through the trees when they caught up. Ross led the pack, the assigned leader in Ruben's absence. I slowed to a walk and stopped when they had me surrounded. Ross, Alex, Stuart, Dylan and Hayden, stood glaring at me, the thrill of the chase glinting off their skin and the expectancy of a fight pumping through their veins. They were all members of the school rugby team and all friends of Ruben's. I almost expected him to be with them. It was a small mercy that he wasn't. I'm not sure I could have handled that level of betrayal.
"You're not going to get away with it," Ross said. "Even if the police can't do anything, we can."
I tried not to show fear as they circled around, teeth bared in cruel grins and eyes flashing, but it ripped through me anyway. Ross tilted his chin into the air and flared his nostrils as though he could smell my fear.
"Just do
what you've got to do," I said, fists clenched at my sides.
Five against one was hardly a fair fight, but I wasn't about to let that stop me. Ross stepped forward until we were face to face and I could feel the heat of his breath. He was bold with his friends behind him. It would be a different story if we were alone.
He spat in my face. "Killer," he growled.
Ross walked back to join the circle, laughing as I wiped the phlegm from my cheek. Then all mirth left his face and he came towards me, throwing his body into mine and tackling me to the ground. I locked my arms around his waist as we fell, pinning him against me, and rolling over once we hit the ground. Once I had the upper hand, I threw the first punch. It landed squarely on his jaw, just as hands wrapped around my arms and tore me away. They pinned me down by kneeling on my arms and legs, crowding over the top of me like hawks on roadkill.
Ross wiped the trickle of blood from his lip. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that."
And then he kicked me. My muscles clenched as his boot connected with the soft tissue of my side. I tried to curl in on myself and roll into a ball, but they held me open and vulnerable to his attack. He kicked and kicked until I didn't feel the pain anymore, and I lay limply on the ground.
Ross knelt over me and bunched my shirt in his fist, pulling my head off the dirt. I forced myself to meet his eye. He grinned. "It's a little hard to hit you in the face when you look just like Ruben, but I think I can get over it."
He reared his head back and brought it down on my nose. I heard the crack, rather than felt it. I didn't feel anything at all. The blow forced my head back, but I pulled it up again so I could face him, ignoring the warm trickle flowing over my lips and down my chin.
"There," Ross said, releasing his grip on my shirt and allowing my head to fall to the ground. "Now we'll be able to tell you apart, and Ruben won't ever be confused for a killer."
They left me bloodied, battered and bruised, but the attack didn't hurt as much as Cara's words, and the scars they left would heal. I couldn't say the same about the ones etched on the inside.
