The Remaining Sister (Sister Series, #9)

by Leanne Davis

  Her parents were listening. Chloe nodded and closed her eyes to stem the tears of guilt and sadness. “They did.”

  “They really did. I loved her too, Chloe. I did. You know how much. If I could believe that, then so could you.”

  “I was her sister. Her identical twin sister—”

  “I was her mother, and I believed it too.”

  Chloe stiffened at hearing her mother’s words but nodded in response. Her mother got up, struggling to come towards her until she embraced Chloe in a long hug. “We all thought she left us willingly. All of us. Every single one.”

  “How do we go about finding forgiveness for ourselves? Just because we aren’t alone in our thinking doesn’t make it all right.”

  Her mother’s shoulders lifted and dropped under her arms. “We don’t. We don’t make it right. We just have to let that part go. We did what we could with what we knew at the time.”

  She closed her eyes. “Yeah, maybe. It’s just so hard.”

  Adaline leaned back and their gazes met. “I agree. And we should put her to rest now. You’re right, and the sooner the better.”

  Chloe nodded. Her mother let her go and flopped down as if that exertion took all her energy. Chloe understood because it took all her energy to just be there or anywhere because she was still alive and functioning.

  Ryder volunteered to drive. He grabbed Wyatt and they left his house. Chloe wondered briefly about his meek, little mouse, Tara, who was still hiding up in his room, but she didn’t voice any concern. Whatever. What did she care about what Tara did? The woman who was trying so hard to be what her sister should have been, who cared?

  Chloe glanced at Ryder as he drove them. They were all so quiet, and she didn’t want to be alone. She needed to be with all of them: Ryder, Wyatt, her parents. At least, they understood. They felt it. They all knew what no words could describe. They all shared the same grief, that no one else could feel as deeply as those crowded into the cab of Ryder’s truck.

  Staring out the window, Chloe sighed. She couldn’t bear the thought of Ryder moving on, getting past her sister. Where she once encouraged Ryder to do just that, now she could not stand it. Seeing the timid, quiet face of the blonde he now dated by his side, imagining them in his bed, taking the place where her bold, striking, energy-filled sister should have been and used to be. She could not stand knowing that Ryder was slowly moving past Ebony. Not now. Now that they both knew the reality of her disappearance. She didn’t want Ryder to replace Ebony, and in all honesty, her. She didn’t want Ryder’s life to no longer include her and her parents. His ex-wife’s family. She doubted she could get through this without Ryder. But deep in the pit of her stomach, she knew that after the funeral, Ryder would move on with Tara by his side. He’d continue on with his life, having grieved for his wife before divorcing her. Yes, the discovery of Ebony’s body put a hitch in it all. A devastating one too, because Ryder loved Ebony and he was a decent person. Of course he cared that she was murdered. He would grieve over her violent death. But it wouldn’t stop his life from proceeding, not like it would have three and a half years ago. Chloe knew deep in her gut, it was the past tense, and Ryder no longer was in love with her sister. He was now in love with Tara.

  Chloe couldn’t stand that. Not at all. That wimp as a replacement to Ebony? She couldn’t imagine Ryder being with her and not with them. He’d become more worried and careful around them. He’d be there if any of them ever needed him of course, but for once, in a period of years, Ryder was living in a different emotional space than Chloe was. Or her parents were. And it hurt much more than she expected. Jealousy filled her thoughts. Ryder was and always had been like a brother to her for years, even before Ebony disappeared. He accepted her presence in his life when she was more like a third wheel to Ebony. But he was tolerant of their reliance on each other. He even encouraged it when he saw how happy it made Ebony. She got to know Ryder very well. Far better than most in-laws. And when Ebony disappeared, they naturally turned to each other.

  Theirs remained a clean, quality relationship, never once tainted by sex or flirting or line crossing. They didn’t share any sparks or uncanny awareness of the other. It was all brother-sister. And the thought of losing that relationship now, especially when she just lost her sister again, her only sister, was unbearable. She was an only child now, and the thought of no longer having exclusive access to Ryder and his son stabbed her heart. Ryder never dated until he met Tara. Not for three years. No one entered his life. He was always so easily accessible to Chloe. They had dinner or chatted or just hung out with Wyatt together. Anytime she wanted, Ryder was there and eagerly available. Her friend. Her confidante. Her brother.

  Now? He had that stupid Tara. Now, Chloe had to ask him for his time and attention and she hated that. Especially now that she needed it so badly. Now she had to share Ryder and his time when that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Chapter Three

  SO BEGAN A WEEK of hell for Chloe. If life intended to punish her for every word she ever uttered about her deceased, and sadly, victimized sister, it had. Chloe busied herself by picking out flowers, music, scriptures, and photographs, all to commemorate her sister who died at the tender age of twenty-six. Putting together a slideshow to feature all the highlights of Ebony’s life was challenging. They had to sort through all the old photos, starting from their birth and ending at Wyatt’s first birthday. It was the cruelest thing Chloe could think of doing to herself. Staring at picture after picture, all the captured moments in a life, showing a personality that was so full of energy, emotions, joie de vivre and verve, which was now relegated to a life in two dimensions, preserved on paper. Past portraits of what they held so dear.

  The tears were endless and the heartache hurt more than before. Then, it stopped. Something began down deep and a sense of numbness took over. When it hurt too much to remember or feel, or when it became overwhelming, it soon became nothing. All feelings vanished. There were no more memories. Nothing to trigger the anguish and pain inside her. Chloe was almost comatose. She became an icy, yet efficient machine, firing off complicated instructions to the pastor she hired to officiate at the memorial before making arrangements at the funeral home and notifying the florist and guests. She wrote a beautiful obituary in celebration of her sister’s life. Forever frozen in time at age twenty-six, her twin’s life ended with a tragedy they only now were beginning to accept and understand.

  Chloe reveled in her detachment. She embraced the coldness like an old friend. Even her tears stopped falling. She just existed. She didn’t feel any sensations at all. It was such a blessing. Almost like the sweet refuge of a strong drug or deep sleep. Her neighbors and friends offered plenty of food for the reception but she still had to coordinate the dishes and arrange for others. The reception would be held at Ryder’s house. The personal touch from him was something he needed to do for his wife, his ex-wife, as he so bitterly stated in the past. Chloe often grabbed his hand and squeezed it, letting him know she understood how brutally he was beating himself up. She did the same to herself. Where once they comforted each other in their anger over Ebony, now they comforted each other in grief. They insisted on reminding the other they hadn’t done anything wrong.

  On purpose, that is.

  The funeral, or the memorial, or whatever the hell one called it was dutifully scheduled and announced, and Chloe couldn’t have cared less; no words mattered. Ebony would be cremated after the medical examiner completed the autopsy, and her ashes would be scattered over her favorite viewpoint of the Columbia River. Chloe was still solidifying the details, but she asked and received permission to put in a bench with a plaque that said, “In Cherished Memory of Ebony Carrington Kincaid, beloved daughter, sister, wife, and mother. Taken too young, she will forever overlook this magnificent river and reside in our hearts.” Beneath the bench, they intended to bury some of her ashes, and scatter the rest along the banks of the mighty river.

  The solemnity of the c
oming occasion hurt Chloe’s heart. Someone so young and vital would now be honored by family and friends wearing black clothes while strewing her ashes. It seemed so cold and sad. Chloe spoke her eulogy at the ceremony but couldn’t remember much of what she said. She recalled seeing vague images of her mother and father, Ryder and Wyatt. She also saw Ryder’s parents and brothers. Snippets of conversations here and there managed to get through her haze at brief moments. She noticed her staff were seated a few rows behind her, including Chet. She jerked forward when her gaze landed on him. He wore a suit. Who knew Chet could get dressed up? His hair was styled nicely and he was staring down at something. Perhaps he was reading the program that celebrated her sister’s short life. Chet never knew Chloe’s sister. He started working there a few months after her disappearance. But Dok, his mother, knew Ebony. His head started to move and Chloe whipped around to face forward. She was unwilling to meet his gaze yet. She wondered still why they so unexpectedly, inappropriately, and shockingly kissed.

  She was no prude, but the reason that it happened still mystified her.

  It was nice to see everyone that came. Chloe hadn’t gone back or even asked about the café since Ryder took her home. Was it just nine days ago? Yes. Something like that. Ryder left Petra in charge and Chloe never gave it another thought. She didn’t have anything to say about it either. So fine. Let Petra run it. Let them work. However, no one knew how to order supplies, from the perishables to the toilet paper. Payroll was another concern. Chloe sighed, leaning forward. There was so much to do. Burying her dead sister was fast becoming a luxury.

  She did not see Tara, however, in the row with her other employees. A surge of unbridled glee made her mouth pucker upwards. No Tara. Maybe Ryder booted her to the curb. He’d spent all of his time with her and her parents during the last nine days. The five of them were nearly inseparable: Ryder, her mom and dad, Wyatt and her. It became the only thing that enabled her to function long enough to put one foot in front of the other.

  But what would she do on Monday, when this, all of this process, was over? Her sister would be cremated and remembered, grieved for and fondly discussed. The townspeople were generous to her family in their heartfelt statements. Everyone expressed their genuine concern and offered their services to them. But that didn’t help Chloe get through the day. Come Monday, there would be no memorial left to plan. Ryder would have to return to work. Wyatt was on summer break, so maybe he could stay with her. But the thought of hanging all day with Mom and Dad left Chloe quivering in desperation and disappointment. That would be the saddest, longest, and most horrible reality she could imagine. The three of them just sitting around and staring at each other? No. Ryder kept them moving forward, spurring them on throughout each day. He made all the final decisions, whether it was over which pictures to include in the slide show, or which kind of music, as well as every other small detail that arose.

  The memorial ended and Chloe kept her head down as she followed her parents to the back of the church. There was a long procession of people whom she and her parents graciously received. So many handshakes, hugs, kisses on her cheeks and forehead, not to mention all the condolences, which were endless. There were plenty of stories and anecdotes. There were even a few laughs and amusing memories over something Ebony did or said. The tributes were sweet, even irreverent, but they reflected Ebony in a very positive light.

  Chloe thought about that. Not often were a person’s bad habits or faults ever discussed or commiserated over. Maybe they should have been. Maybe the personal faults are what keeps a person alive and real. Chloe did not want Ebony to become some kind of martyr and it already felt like she was becoming that, not only to Chloe, but to others, including the whole town. Even Ryder.

  That nearly killed Chloe because to her, Ebony was a living, breathing woman who looked just like her. She could predict and almost experience whatever Ebony felt or thought. At least, she always had a pretty clear idea of Ebony’s mental state whenever they were together. It was like their relationship as twins created its own energy and they seemed to feed off each other whenever they were in close proximity. Now, there was no one left. Not only was Chloe rendered an only child but she no longer carried the distinctive honor and privilege of being an identical twin.

  The numbness she yearned for returned. Ryder came up to her and put his hand on her lower back. “Line is dying down now. How about we leave now? You need a break.”

  She nodded, grateful for his kind attention and awareness. Her brain could not formulate what time she should leave to go to the reception. Her thoughts were muddled and fuzzy. Her eyes ached, although they were dry and swollen. She stopped wearing makeup after her tears smeared it all over her face during the last several days.

  Ryder escorted Chloe and her parents to his truck before taking Wyatt in hand with the utmost gentlemanly care. He held the doors open for them and waited until they put their seatbelts on before nodding his approval that they were safe.

  Wyatt was talkative and giggled about a friend’s statement from school. It took all of Chloe’s energy to fake a smile of interest and feign some interaction. Meanwhile, her heart longed to scream, Stop being happy! Don’t you know what you just lost? What you just witnessed? Your mother is dead. Dead. Gone. You’ll never know her now. Don’t you understand how tragic that is?

  Naturally, she bit down on her tongue to keep her thoughts to herself. That was no way to talk to Wyatt. He didn’t understand. Perhaps he never would or could. He never had a chance to know her. A blessing maybe for him, as the grief and the pain were less, but a tragedy to Chloe, knowing that Ebony’s only child would never remember her. Not one memory or one shared experience that would help shape or guide Wyatt to adulthood. None of it mattered now.

  The reception was lovely and exceeded everyone’s expectations. If Chloe cared at all about that, she’d have commented, but she didn’t. Neighbors and friends of her parents took over the necessary details. Flowers were delivered and set up all around Ryder’s house. A generous buffet was displayed on several tables. Extra seating spilled out into the yard. Ryder mowed the lawn and prepared the garden nicely so it was all fresh, lovely, and verdant. So perfect a setting to celebrate someone’s untimely death, Chloe thought bitterly.

  Chloe tolerated several long, tear-filled conversations, as well as endless hugs, kisses and handholding. The cloying sympathy was becoming too much for her, and from too many different sources. A headache started to brew, and it pounded sharply in her temples. It was probably from the aching of her eyes due to the sun’s glare and all the clamor of voices and clashing conversations. People started to relax, and the formality of the occasion faded as they chatted together and caught up. Neighbors, friends, and other community members shared much in common. Chloe’s dead sister had missed all the community activities and gossip for more than three years. The grim and shocking discovery of her decomposing body and the knowledge that she was the victim of a crime, the only murder ever recorded in Silver Springs, made Ebony quite famous.

  Anger started to percolate inside Chloe as the afternoon wore on and the vast amount of people, memories, and well-wishers continued unabated.

  And then she saw Tara. Tara came in with Petra and the rest of her employees. No. How could that be? Her mind was overwhelmed with spite. How dare that bitch show up here? Here. Of all places. For just one afternoon, couldn’t she leave this place, and this man and his boy, to her sister for one final day? One last time? Couldn’t she let Ryder grieve for her sister and let her son celebrate his real mother’s life without crashing in on it? Chloe sneered. Turning away, she pretended to be listening to Esther Bylee discussing Ebony’s ability to add numbers faster than anyone else she knew without ever using a calculator. It was an odd quirk, but Ebony was mathematically gifted, which is why a career in business appealed to her so much.

  Finally seeking pain relief for her growing headache, which bordered on becoming a migraine, Chloe slipped through the back door into th
e mudroom and stopped dead.

  There sat Tara beside Wyatt. She was saying, “It’s not your responsibility. Okay? You don’t have to remember someone you can’t. Or feel things you can’t. No one will get mad at you for that.”

  Chloe was sure that if a nurse could have checked her blood pressure just then, they’d fear she was having a stroke. Her face burned up, she was so hot with ragged emotions. How dare she? How dare this… this… nothing to them or this family…?! How could this nobody tell her nephew not to remember his mother?! How dare she? The urge to yell at Tara, and throw things, and shriek, or even hit her bubbled up strong and deep inside Chloe. She tried to breathe slower to restrain the impulse to make Tara feel the same pain she felt. But turning Wyatt against Ebony! What? So Tara could swoop in and become his new mommy? She supposed it was now official that Ryder’s ex-wife would never return to town to claim her parental rights. That had been a genuine concern of Tara’s until now. Was Tara ready to assume Ebony’s former role? Step one: exterminate the competition?

  Without a thought, Chloe yelled behind them, “What the hell are you doing?”

  Tara jerked around at hearing her voice. Chloe continued her tirade, ignoring Tara’s startled, big-eyed expression. “Telling my nephew not to remember or grieve for his own mother? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Tara jumped to her feet, stepping back towards the wall as if she were afraid of Chloe. Chloe scoffed with disgust. What a goddamned wuss. Again, Ebony would have confronted Chloe and yelled right back in her face, whether she were right or wrong. At least, Ebony would have tried to defend herself, and not backed up in physical fear. Chloe rolled her eyes and scoffed again.