Page 136 of Striking Range

I walk the concrete path that leads to the front door of my childhood home. Fear lingers in the pit of my stomach, my nervous system sending false alarms to my brain.

He can not hurt me now. This is the last time I will see them.

It’s strange to now think those words and not feel sorrow. There is a great relief in no longer clinging to what hurts you. I know this now.

As I reach the singular concrete step, movement to my left catches my attention, and I spot my neighbor taking out their trash. I lift a hand and wave. Their eyes land on me, widening momentarily before narrowing into a piercing glare.

I’m used to this now. Ever since we handled the Ash situation, he’s made it his personal mission to turn Sinclair against me. I’m not sure what story he has told or what lies he’s conjured, but most of this small town can’t stand the sight of me now.

Skylar wanted to confront him, to leak the audio, but I refused. We moved out of this shithole a week ago anyway, and their perception of me doesn’t matter. These assholes are the dumb ones, letting Ash manipulate them like this.

Ignoring the glare, I approach the front door, knocking once. It swings open to reveal Felicita, who huffs and turns, not bothering to greet me.

I do not follow her into the kitchen, but head up the stairs to my old room. I need to grab the rest of my things.

The electronics will stay, as well as my car, but I can still take my clothes and the things I bought myself. Plus, the Parishs put me on their phone plan after they heard my adoptive father took mine.

They’re good people, and I’m constantly reminded of how lucky I am to have met them. To have met Skylar—Henry and Kelly, too.

“Everett,” Ash greets, suddenly appearing in the doorway as I shove clothes into my duffel.

“What’s up?” I ask, not bothering to look him in the eyes as my stomach cramps painfully.

I wish Skylar were here.

“This is the last time, right? You won’t come back?”

I nod. This will be the last night. Sure, we have to come to Rockhill to see Skylar’s parents, but I won’t find myself on this side of the cul-de-sac ever again.

This chapter of my life has come to a close, and I’m more than happy to file it away somewhere dark and deserted inside of me.

After a moment of silence, Ash adds, “I just don’t understand. Why did you turn out this way?”

“I’m not doing this,” I tell him. “I don’t have to speak to you.”

“I’m looking for closure,” he hisses. “I just want to speak like men.”

I shove the last of my clothes into my bag, standing straight as I finally face him. “Do you want to know what the best part about all of this is?”

“What?” he snaps.

“I’ve realized that I don’t have to speak if I don’t want to. A part of being a man is recognizing what is worth speaking on, and what is not. I’m leaving now. Thanks.”

I push past him, jogging down the stairs as his footsteps sound behind me.

“Get back here! You owe me at least one conversation, Everett! After everything I’ve—”

The slamming of the front door cuts off his words. I don’t care to hear them, and I’m not required to either. I am free.

Henry is parked on the curb, scrolling through songs on his Spotify playlist as I slide into the passenger side.

“All done?” he asks, pulling from the curb.

“All done,” I confirm.

“Good for you, man.”

I watch the palm trees glide by. In my mind, I’m saying goodbye to the childhood I was given and mourning the one I deserved. I am making peace with and finally comprehending the abuse I faced.