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Serenity Erin Haugen
Beloved daughter and sister
Taken from us too soon
Next to the solemn words is a picture of a girl who looks very much like a younger version of the woman in my cabin. However, when I look closely, I can see a few differences. The hair is a little lighter. The face has decidedly more freckles, and the nose is more bulbous on the end. Below the line about where the services were to be held, there’s a copy of an accident report regarding a fifteen-year-old girl crossing the street and a fatal collision with a delivery truck.
“I don’t understand,” I say softly. I shake my head and push the paper away. “This doesn’t make sense. Iris is the one who—”
Margot reaches across the table as the words catch in my throat.
“Iris Haugen McGuire is not dead,” Margot says succinctly. “Her sister, Serenity Haugen, died in a car accident more than ten years ago when Iris was seventeen.”
The words sink in, but I can’t wrap my head around them. None of this fits with the information I already have—information I’d already deemed correct. I’d come to the conclusion that Seri was the first and dominant personality, leaving Netti and Iris as secondary, appearing after Iris was killed. Though I had dozens of unanswered questions, I had assumed I knew some answers, at least. Now I know none of those so-called facts are true. Now I know that I know nothing.
Iris is alive.
Seri is dead.
My head continues to spin.
“Who’s in my cabin?” My voice sounds hoarse.
“I don’t know,” Margot says quietly. “I can only assume it’s Iris. I’m pretty certain it’s not Serenity.”
All I can do is shake my head as I stare at the pages in front of me. I simply can’t comprehend this new barrage of information. It seems that in truth, I have never met Serenity, but I feel as if she has just died in my arms.
“Bishop, I think this might be a good time to admit that you have fallen into deep, cold water. There’s no shame in hauling yourself out and going home. No one is expecting you to swim in it.”
“I don’t even know what the hell that means.” I rub my fingers into my eyes, trying to rid myself of the pressure behind them, but it doesn’t work.
“It means that you don’t really know this woman. You don’t know who she is or what kind of game she is playing. Maybe you need to admit that, and just get yourself out of it.”
“I can’t just kick her out in the snow.” My voice cracks as I even consider such an action. If I did, she would have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I told her—I told all of them—to stay with me. I want them to stay.
“No, but you can drive her to Yellowknife, and give her money for a bus ticket.”
“I…I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Margot leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Because I don’t want to!” I scream. The pressure behind my eyes is too much, and I feel tears escape and run down my cheeks.
“Bishop!” Margot jumps at the sound of my voice, and her eyes go wide as she reaches for me.
I lean back in my chair and cover my face with my hands, quickly wiping the tears away. I stare off to one side and take a deep breath as I try to clear my head. The woman I know as Seri isn’t really dead. She’s in my cabin, likely playing with the cat.
The thought doesn’t bring me much comfort.
I glance at Margot and then away again. I’ve never been good at sorting out my emotions. I’m sure if I had ever actually opened up to a shrink, the good doctor would say my abusive past stunted my ability to express myself, but I’ve always believed I just wasn’t capable of certain emotions. Now that I’m experiencing them, I don’t know what to do.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” Margot says, bringing me out of my thoughts. “This woman has really gotten to you.”
I don’t answer. My chest and throat are still tight, and I don’t think I can get a word out even if I did have something to say.
“You want to help her,” Margot says.
I nod.
