I wring my hands in my lap. “I know. It was selfish. But I didn’t want people to see me as nothing more thanhisdaughter. You’re doing that now, viewing me in relation to him. But I’m not him.”
Her expression softens. “I know you’re not him. But…you understand what it’s like to live in his shadow, don’t you?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“So do I. Every single day since my mother went missing, I’ve lived in the shadow of what your father did. My mother’s gone, and all I have are these missing pieces. It’s like I’m chasing a ghost.”
I bite my lip, the guilt and shame bubbling up inside me. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it up to you.”
“I don’t need you to make it up to me. But you have answers that none of us will ever have, and I think you owe it to us to share them.”
Panic surges through me. “But Idon’t. I promise you, Natalie, I don’t know what he did with their bodies.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. “What?”
“My father and I spoke to one of the FBI agents on the case. Agent Kulpa. He told us about Gabriel Thorn’s suicide note. About how he asked his daughter to watch over the remains.”
“I have no idea why he wrote that in his letter,” I say weakly. “I don’t know anything.”
“But maybe you do,” she insists. “Maybe you saw something, or heard something, but weren’t able to put the pieces together. Maybe you can piece it together now.”
“I’ve been trying,” I admit. “The FBI convinced me to tryhypnosis to see if anything surfaces. I’ve had two sessions so far. It’s not working.”
Her voice becomes wry. “As someone who’s undergone extensive therapy since my mom died, I can assure you that it takes a lot more than two sessions to accomplish anything.”
“What if the hypnosis never works, no matter how many sessions?”
“At least keeptrying.” Natalie shakes her head in frustration. “I’m not saying you owe me anything, or any of the other families. But the answers are out there. Don’t you at least owe it toyourselfto find them?”
Her words stay with me for the rest of the day. She’s right. Two sessions aren’t enough.
Ihaveto keep trying. For as long as it takes. Because maybe if I can help the families find closure, I’ll finally stop feeling like I’m constantly running from the past.
Maybe I can start forgiving myself too.
thirty-nine
It’s Not That Simple
Maggie agrees to pick me up from school the next day to drive me to Nashville for my appointment, which we were able to procure because Dr.Wilmer had a last-minute cancellation. After the final bell rings, I dive out of my seat and practically sprint toward my locker.
“Ryan.” Chase’s voice cuts through the noise in the hall. He reaches my locker and gives me a rueful look. “Are you ever going to talk to me? Like in full sentences and not just one- or two-word texts?”
I hesitate, not meeting his gaze. “I don’t know.”
That makes him chuckle. “At least you’re honest.”
“Everyone hates me, Chase.”
We both hear how tired I sound. How defeated.
“I don’t hate you,” he says softly. He steps closer, his hand brushing mine.
“No?” I’m still too afraid to look at him.
“No.”
