AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Greer
It’d taken days for the arson investigators to find Anna’s body. The second floor had collapsed in the fire, but the built-in space with its fortified walls had remained somewhat intact, acting as a sort of oversized coffin for her remains, shielding them from the flames.
As far as investigators could tell, Anna had indeed walked back into the house and up the stairs through what they’d described as an “inferno,” where she would have most definitely suffered burns at the hands of the licking flames.
From there, we’ll never know exactly what happened, why Anna went back into the house, but I had my suspicions. She’d wanted to save Jace, but she’d known it was too late to get him out. She’d know that even if she’d had the time, she hadn’t had the strength. And so she’d decided she couldn’t live without him or—at the very least—couldn’t live with herself for letting him die. She’d gotten into the crawl space and waited.
I can only imagine what she’d been thinking during her final moments, trapped in the room where it’d all begun. Where she had likely been abused as well. Had she pulled the hatch shut behind her, blocking out the light? How long before the smoke made it impossible to breathe and she’d closed her eyes for the last time?
Anna had told us she and Eugenia had conspired to burn the whole thing down with Jace and me inside. Once she’d summoned us to the attic, Eugenia had gone to work downstairs, lighting every candelabra she could find, lining the hallways as she had the night I’d come back. As I suspected then, all it took was a swift kick to the base of the first few candleholders for all that wood to begin to take the flames, aided by the old hallway rug.
Anna was dead, but where was Eugenia? Anna’s had been the only body found at the scene—but I know I saw Eugenia go back into the house. Somehow, she’d escaped. Police had recently discovered she’d left the country, but I hadn’t heard any plans to involve the FBI, the Justice Department, or whoever needed to go after her to bring her back here. I could make an issue of it. The question was, did I want to?
When Jace had let go of the scaffolding pipe, I’d felt like it was me who was going to die. Thankfully, the fire trucks had been closer than I’d initially thought. They’d had trouble getting up the road, but the ambulance had come ahead. The house couldn’t be saved, but in the end, Jace was.
He’d spent weeks in the hospital this time, weeks to make up for the time he should’ve spent recovering after Eugenia stabbed him. In addition to reopening those wounds and the resulting blood loss he couldn’t afford, his hands were severely burned by the scaffolding, and he’d messed up his knees in the fall. Luckily, neither was broken, but the damage had been done, and he needed time to heal under medical supervision.
At his insistence, after sleeping too many nights in his hospital room, I’d moved into his house, into his bed. Sheryll had moved into a halfway house a week after the fire, a move that had already been in the works, I guess, and one she’d said was even more necessary with Jace in the hospital. She hadn’t wanted to come home to an empty house when she was working so hard to stay sober. She hadn’t wanted to be alone and sad and give in to her old vices. I knew the feeling—and I was trying to keep busy. I didn’t know when I’d be ready to start working on the book again, the book I’d been commissioned to write what felt like years ago—but Oren told me his offer still stood. Someday I’d tell the story of Richmond House. I’d tell the story the Historical Society wanted to hear, but I liked to think I’d eventually tell the actual story as well.
I’d stopped taking the Xanax, stopped trying to numb my feelings and the urge to tap. It was easier in the beginning when Penny was here to support me in person, and I could just see her in town whenever I felt vulnerable. I was hoping she would stay—she and Oren had really hit it off—but in the end, she’d gone back to Shreveport. Thrice-weekly Zoom appointments had kept me on track and helped me work through the realities of what happened. Anna dead. Eugenia gone. Jace critically injured. And Richmond House and everything inside burned to the ground.
After the fire, I’d had absolutely nothing to my name—nothing but the clothes on my back made dirty, torn, and bloody in our escape. But my money—my savings and what was left of my advance from Oren—was still safely in the bank. As soon as I’d gotten a new bank card, surprisingly uncomplicated considering I had no means of formal identification, I’d been able to replace my toiletries and a few outfits. The Bronco had been damaged in the fire, so I drove Jace’s Range Rover back and forth to and from the hospital to visit him. He was getting stronger every day.
“Get me the fuck out of here, sweetheart.”
“Not a chance—you’re going to wait until the doctor clears you.”
“Please, baby. I’m going crazy sitting in this bed. Come get on it with me.”
“And where exactly would I sit?” Jace’s body practically spilled over the sides and end of the bed.
“You could sit on top of me. Come to think of it,” he grinned wolfishly, “maybe you should sit on my face. I believe that was something I was once promised, and you’ve failed to deliver twice now.”
“How about you get better, and we’ll discuss it the very first night you’re home.”
* * *
It wasn’tthe first night he was home, because that first night—when I drove him back to his house in the Range Rover—Sheryll was there to greet us. I hadn’t spoken to her that day, so Jace must have called and told her he was being discharged.
“Jace!” Tears streamed down her face as she hugged her only child, tugged him into the house out of the wind and rain that battered Astoria on this cold December day, and pushed him toward his bedroom with me following awkwardly behind.
“Mom, I’m fine now. Not quite back to full strength, but I don’t need to lie in bed. I’m so fucking sick of lying in bed.”
“I know. Of course I know. But you came so close to—”
“It’s okay, Mom,” he said as Sheryll broke down again. He held her against him as she cried, waiting until her sobs turned to huffy breaths and the occasional sniffle.
“Do you want dinner?” she finally asked. “I could make something for all of us.”
“That sounds great, Sheryll,” I said. Despite my bluntness—borderline rudeness—when we first met at Richmond House, Sheryll and I had warmed to each other. We weren’t friends, weren’t exactly close, but things were comfortable. I’d even asked her to move back in, but she’d insisted on wanting to give Jace and me the space we needed to “live happily ever after, after everything you’ve been through.” I suspected her refusal had more to do with the support she was getting at the halfway house. I was proud of her for staying strong, thankful she was showing Jace that she really had changed.
“Actually, Mom, I’m taking Greer out to dinner tonight.”
“You are?” Sheryll and I both asked in unison.
“I am,” he grinned. “The two of you give me no credit, I see. I hope that’s okay—I already booked the table. The weather’s not great, but I did want it to be cozy, so…”
“Of course it’s okay,” Sheryll smiled. “More than okay.”
