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“I think you’ll be more comfortable in here,” he said, directing me to one of the chairs. “A detective will arrive shortly to take your statement, and there’ll also be someone from victims’ services.”
Victims’ services.The numb sensation that had spread through me as we’d been walking began to melt, and I could feel panic and desperation building in me again. If I was going to call home, it had to be now, when I still had control.Leave, I wished I could say to the cop.Please, fucking leave me alone.
And then just like that he did. I dug out my phone, fell onto the chair, and, trying not to sob, practiced the words a few times. “Mom, I’m so sorry, Chloe’s dead. We found her body here on the property.” I had to get it out in one go, not make her wait for the truth.
With frantic fingers, I finally pressed the numbers for my mother’s cell phone. Two rings and a half ring. David answered, though, not my mother. I had no choice but to tell him first.
“David, I’m so sorry. Chloe’s—”
“We know,” he said, his voice breaking. “The police just called us.”
“Can I talk to Mom?”
A howl came from the background, like a wounded animal.
“I don’t think she can speak right now,” he said. “She’s too distraught.”
“Please, just for a second.”
I needed to hear my mother’s voice, needed to comfort her, to have her comfortme.
The next thing I knew David was directing his voice away from the phone, saying something I couldn’t hear.
Then another howl, the sound a little closer.
“How could sheleaveher like that?” I heard my mother wail. “Howcouldshe?”
I knew who she meant. She thought this was all my fault.
“Skyler, I’m sorry,” David said, speaking into the phone again. He sounded beyond anguished, but I could tell he was fighting to keep it together. “I need to speak to the police again. Stay where you are, and I’ll get back to you.”
He ended the call, and I realized that somehow I’d risen without noticing it and had been pacing the room while I spoke to him. I collapsed back into the chair.
And then, as I sat in that musty pool house, I saw my future in front of me, spelled out with perfect clarity.
There would be no Chloe ever again. She’d never be an intern at a television station or date another hockey player or become a TV star or get married and have kids. She’d never hitch another ride with me, or rub my feet on the couch in the den, or flash one of her megawatt smiles in my direction. Her death would be a huge, awful, gaping hole in my family.
And there would be a ripple effect, I realized. Because how, after this, could I ever stay in Boston or at BU, with my grad school friends and crushes? No, nothing in my life would ever unfold as I’d planned.
32
Now
WITHIN A FEW MINUTES OF WALKING NORTH ALONG ALLENStreet, I’m winded, so I slow my pace enough to catch a breath. A few more people glance in my direction, slightly curious in that city way, and I realize it must look like I had a spat with a romantic partner and have stormed off in a snit. Using the sleeve of my blazer, I swipe at the tears smeared on my face.
After another half a block, I glance behind me, wondering if there’s any chance that my family is trying to catch up with me. But the only people I see are strangers, probably heading home from work or out for their nights on the town.
I turn back around and almost collide with a pedestrian walking toward me—a tall, striking woman with short, spiky dark hair. I pull back, muttering, “I’m sorry,” and to my shock discover it’s Mikoto.
“Skyler,” she exclaims. “Where are you going?”
“Uh, home. You?”
“I’m going to youropening. Do I have the night wrong?”
Oh god, I’d completely forgotten I’d invited her. “No, um, it’sthe right night, but my part isn’t happening. I should have called you—but I just found out. My pieces got damaged, and they can’t be shown now.”
“That’s horrible,” she says, her shoulders sinking. “Can I do anything?”
