Page 97 of Buried in the Woods Below

There’s nowhere to go.

We watch the candlelight dance across the sailboat wallpaper. The little ships bob as if caught in invisible waves. I feel as though I’m on one of those ships, preparing to capsize. I peek at Olivia and see her lip trembling.

“How are you holding up?” I ask.

She hesitates. Swallows hard. “I’m okay.” Her hands shake as she brushes a loose curl from her face.

I tilt my head.

She exhales sharply, then speaks, her voice ragged. “No, really, I am. I mean, obviously I’m devastated.” A pause. More shallow breaths. “I loved her. And I’m going to miss her more than you can imagine.” A tear slips. “But these last few years were…rough. She was so controlling. So overbearing. It was like a dark cloud over our family.” She wipes a trickle of snot from her nose. “I feel terrible saying this, but part of me feels relieved that it’s just me and Dad now.”

I think of Laelynn barking orders, always needing the last word. “I get it.”

I don’t really get it. If I lost my mom, I’d fall apart. Part of me wonders if, without Laelynn, the Parkers will fall apart too.

She pulls the headband out of her hair and shakes out her curls. “I just feel bad for Emma and P. I don’t know what they’re going to do. My mom was their structure.” She laughs quietly to herself. “They were little terrors when she was around. I can’t imagine what they’ll be like now. My poor dad would’ve been better off if the killer had gotten them too.”

“Jesus, Liv,” I say, but a part of me empathizes. I picture them laughing at me. Making me feel three feet tall.

She winces. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I understand. We’re both saying and thinking things we don’t mean. You’re exhausted. You’ve been through hell.”

“Yeah. I just need sleep.”

“Same.” I blow out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. The only sounds are the needle-fine rain tapping the roof and the growl of thunder. “God, I hope the storm clears so we can leave tomorrow.”

“Even if it doesn’t, we’re getting off this island. I’ll build us a damn raft if I have to.”

I smile, though she can’t see it, and wrap my arm around her. “I’ll help.” Her body quivers. “Good night, Liv.”

“Good night, CharBar.”

Sleep comes fast.

And with it, the dream.

I’m back at the State Fair. Back on the Ferris wheel with Olivia. The summer air thick with the scent of ice cream and hot pavement. Olivia balancing on the safety bar, arms outstretched like a ballerina.

She falls.

A scream rips through the night.

Ear-splitting. Terrifying. The sound jolts me awake.

Or was I already awake?

I sit up too fast, a lump in my chest. The air feels wrong. Stale. Suffocating. The candle is out, the storm a memory, the house too still.

Something’s missing.

I reach beside me. The bed is empty. Olivia is gone. My blood goes cold.

The scream.

The twins.

I throw back the covers and yank open the nightstand drawer.