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Prologue
Bridget Ivy - 2 years ago
Shannon and I sat across from each other at the table. She used her charm on me as she told me her big news. My sister had the talent to convince a holy man he needed more blessed water. Maybe it was the guilt of being her guardian after our parents died and feeling like I didn’t really watch her. It was 7 years ago; I’d just started my junior year of college and was busy on the school paper. I had big dreams of being the next Woodward and Bernstein, so I went out of my way for every scoop. Shannon was 16, and she was doing well in school and had a lot of friends. She didn’t give me any reason to worry about her, so I said yes more than no.
She’d just waltzed into my apartment to tell me she was moving to New Orleans. She got a job as a backup singer for a jazz musician and if he hit it big, so could she. Her dream was full of lights and stages, and I wanted her to have it. I certainly was doing well as an investigative journalist and I’d started writing a true crime book.
“So, you can’t wait to ditch your poor sister, huh?” I smiled, trying to make light of the fact that I was going to miss the hell out of her. Hell, her being out of the city made me nervous.
“Oh please, you're not even going to notice I’m gone. You keep so busy with work. Besides, think about how much fun we can have when you come for weekends,” she smiled, twirling her blond hair around her finger.
“Yeah, that could be fun, but you better not be saying you’ll never come home,” I pout.
Shannon smiled and used her hands to mock me as if she’s playing a harmonica as I sing the blues. It’s an old joke we have when one of us is being whiny.
“Houston is 4 hours away, Bridget. Of course, I’ll come home to visit.”
“Alright, alright. Tell me all about this opportunity. Do you even have a place to stay?” I asked as I gestured to her to pour wine into the glasses she’d just brought from the kitchen. I moved my laptop top down and settled it to my right.
We spent the evening drinking wine and reminiscing about our childhoods. When we had nights like this, we often drifted into this topic. We both missed our parents. Maybe you never recover from loss, perhaps it just settled in a box in your heart that you can never quite close.
“Do you remember when Dad dressed up like Santa that year and Max chased him around the house barking at him?” Shannon’s eyes were bright from the alcohol.
“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that. Max was such a hyper dog, anyway. He just wouldn’t quit until Dad got out of that suit,” I laughed.
“I was only 5, and it shocked me it was Dad instead of Santa,” Shannon puts her hand over her heart and sighed.
“Well, I love how Mom explained it to you. I still remember she said so sweetly that Santa was busy, so he asked Dad to dress up for him to give you your Christmas Eve present,” I said, slapping the couch. “They were the fucking best.”
“Yes, they were,” my sister smiled sadly.
I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’m going to miss you monchhichi.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
Chapter 1
Bridget Ivy- Present Day
Rob glared at me as I packed my old suitcase. I was fighting back tears, which was stupid considering I’d cried a river this past week. I turned toward the closet and started grabbing things at random.
“You're really going through with this, Bridget?” Rob asked, a hardness in his voice.
“I have to do this. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I need to find who did this to her.” I felt the wetness on my cheeks, and I wanted to scream.
I went to the drawer and grabbed the entire contents of underthings and shoved it on top of whatever clothes I’d already put in there.
“This won’t bring Shannon back. I know it’s tragic, and Christ, I am so sorry, baby,” Rob moved closer.
But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t stand his comfort. I was so angry, a rage burned in my flesh and I wanted to implode from the profound feelings that I didn’t know what to do with. When I moved away, I felt his grip on my elbow.
When I turned to him, his jaw was set so hard, I’m surprised he hadn’t locked it. He’d been looking like this since I told him I was going to New Orleans indefinitely.
“Please Rob, you don’t have to understand. Just know I need this like I’ve needed nothing in my life.” I yanked my arm and he let me go.
“So, you're willing to throw us away for this escapade that will only lead to more heartache for you. Whether it's jail or maybe even worse, you get hurt, maybe even dead,” Rob said quietly, as if his anger was beyond the loud stage.
“We don’t have to be over. I just need time. If you love me, you’ll let me go,” I said, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hands.
