AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was obvious how she was. Years later and she was still sleeping in her daughter’s bed. Everything was definitely not alright.
We walked into the living room, everything the same as it was back then. All I could see were hours spent over board games, cutting out pictures of cute outfits from magazines, stalking people on Facebook. The air felt suffocating, so thick and cloying that I began to feel light-headed.
“Breathe,” I heard Stellan say sharply. I opened my eyes and found myself bent over, my hand on my knees, my breath coming out in gasps.
He looked pale, a bit glassy-eyed, but at least he was still standing.
“Sorry,” I muttered, and he led me into the kitchen, his hand pressed against my lower back. I braced against the countertop while he got me some water. I couldn’t stop seeing memories of baking cookies, of helping Sophia with the dishes while we sang along to Taylor Swift, of stolen glances at Stellan. “This is fucking me up,” I admitted as I grabbed the water from his hand and gulped it down, the taste of it rancid against my tongue even though he’d just grabbed it from the fridge.
“You can see why I don’t come back very often.”
I nodded, taking one last sip before I set the glass down on the counter.
“What exactly was your plan once you got here and let me out of your trunk?”
His nose wrinkled. The move sent flutters through my stomach…just like it used to.
“Her journals,” he answered.
My eyes widened. Her journals. Of course.
It was funny how habits could be ingrained. Even after all these years, the thought of looking through her journals felt taboo. My mind flashed to the journal I'd found in Stellan's room at school.
"You had one of her journals in your room," I commented, not ashamed at all I'd been snooping around in his room.
He turned away from me and opened the fridge, staring aimlessly into it without answering.
"Was there anything in it?" I pressed. His shoulders tensed, and I saw his knuckles grow white with how hard he was gripping the refrigerator door handle.
"Nothing helpful," he finally said.
Well, that wasn’t suspicious at all.
"Let's order something to eat and start looking through them," I finally said.
Just then, I heard shuffling coming from the hallway. I peeked my head around the corner and gasped when I locked eyes with Stellan's mom.
She was… almost unrecognizable. Her once pristine blonde hair that she had kept up religiously with appointments with her hairdresser every six weeks to dye her roots, was now almost completely gray. Mrs. Bishop had been the emblem of a perfect housewife when I’d known her. I had never seen her in anything but a perfectly pressed outfit.
Right now she was dressed in a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt covered in stains, like she'd been wearing the same outfit for days…if not weeks. We were staring at each other, but there was no hint that she recognized me. A flicker of embarrassment sparked in her gaze before her eyes slipped from mine and she continued forward, walking past me into the kitchen.
"Are you hungry?" Stellan asked in a soft voice. "We were just about to order dinner."
"Not hungry, sweetheart," she said in a rough voice, like she hadn't used it in forever.
"We can get whatever you want," Stellan said cajolingly.
"I said I'm not hungry," she snapped.
Stellan gritted his teeth but nodded.
She sighed and pushed a hand through her hair agitatedly. Up close, I could see that it wasn't just gray, it was also greasy, badly in need of a wash.
My heart clenched and guilt flashed through me. I told myself it wasn't my fault that Sophia had disappeared, but sometimes it was hard to believe that, and seeing Stellan and his mom’s pain like this, it was hard to think positively.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm sorry."
Without saying anything else, she trudged out of the room, her hands empty.
