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That was the last time I spoke to her.
It was only a few weeks later when I heard about Alec. I’d tried calling her before then, but when she didn’t answer, I’d stupidly assumed she was just busy.
At first, when I didn’t see Lucy at the funeral, I assumed that she couldn’t do it. She’d declared after Rene’s, that her mom’s funeral was the last one she was ever going to.
Fucking idiot.
No matter what she said, she would have gone to Alec’s.
I’d lost a brother, and I didn’t want to stick around after the funeral, so I got the first plane back to Cali.
Selfish fucking idiot.
I should have started looking for her then.
The night I bought their house for her, I took some leave and came back, finally starting to do some digging. It’s been nearly two months since I last spoke to her. The police brushed me off and told me she was probably making good on that promise to have a break before she went to college.
Angry, I’d gone for a drink in a local bar, showed her picture around, and found out she’d been working there, bussing tables. The owner had told me not to worry because she’d probably shacked up with her rich boyfriend and then one of the bar girls had said that was impossible because the boyfriend was arrested for murder.
That night, I quit my job.
While I might not have been the typical student accepted to JKU, growing up in the area had its advantages. The local library, where I would spend most of my weekends studying, was where Guy Tyson, one of JKU’s professors of Law, liked to grade his student’s papers. Years later, he helped me get the job at the university.
Like Tori, I was convinced the truth about what happened to Lucy could be found there. But if any of the faculty know anything, they’re not sharing. There’s no gossip, no rumors, and no one who will answer any questions.
A few weeks after I started, Guy took me aside and told me if I wanted to keep my job, I needed to stop asking questions. That the people who really ran the university were some of the students and their parents.
The pile of chopped wood is larger than the pile that needs to be chopped, and my rage is down to a simmer. I return the ax to its home in the nearby shed and then move the freshly chopped firewood inside to protect it from the weather.
Tori is sitting on the couch when I walk in, staring at the black screen of the television. She jumps up when I pass her, but I add what’s in my arms to the small pile by the fire before I turn to face her.
There may be people who are able to disappear without a trace; be able to leave everything behind—including their identities—and start a new life somewhere else. Lucy wasn’t one of them. She got good enough grades to get into college, and she never really kept up with social media.
As much as it pained me to admit, the only way she would disappear like this was if something happened to her.
Cole Reynolds refused to let me visit him.
I was starting to give up hope until Tori ran into me. Her features are more feminine, but there’s no denying she looks like her brother. And for the longest time, just looking at her made me want to punch something.
Synclair Keyingham is a rich, entitled bastard, but I still understand his anger.
Or I did.
Until last night.
Although I technically own this place, I don’t live here. There are a few things of mine in Alec’s bedroom, but every room seems to contain a ghost of someone I love, so staying here is uncomfortable.
I came here yesterday morning to check up on the place and fix some gutters before the winter storms hit. Since I didn’t finish by the time the sun set, I decided to stay so I could finish up today, even though I no longer sleep easily while I’m here. Which is probably the only reason I heard Tori scream.
The gun is one of Alec’s. I’d grabbed it and ran outside.
It wasn’t until I had her upstairs on Alec’s bed that I realized I was staring at someone I didn’t recognize. Until then, she’d been a way to get to the truth.
A tool.
Not a person.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I finally tell her.
