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At the police station, we’re forced to sit in the waiting area while we wait for Detective Rannali to return from a case he’s out working on. I can hardly sit still, just thinking about how this might be reaching an end. That maybe they can finally find Sadie. Make some arrests. Give my brother some justice.
“I wish he’d hurry up.” Lila bounces her foot up and down as she scans the busy room. “I want to get Ayden home.”
“I know, but you need to relax.” Ethan places his hand on her knee to settle her down. “Try to stay calm for him, okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, picking at a hole in my jeans.
“Don’t say that,” she says, startling me. “I know you can’t be fine, not after what you must have . . .” She sucks in a breath as her eyes water up again. “After what you saw.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” I lie with my head tipped down. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath as the images try to resurface. “I didn’t see that much.”
She wraps an arm around me. “That might be true, but I know seeing any of it has to be difficult.”
She keeps trying to console me until Detective Rannali finally shows up. His blue shirt has a coffee stain on it, his silver tie is loose, and his hair is disheveled. “I came here as soon as I could.” He seems eager as he nods his head at his office door. “Come inside please. I’d really like to hear what happened with the session today.”
The three of us rise to our feet, file into his office, and take a seat in front of his desk. Once everyone is settled, he opens a folder that contains the information and details of the stuff that’s been going on over the last couple of years.
“I didn’t know you were going through with the session,” he starts as he searches his desk drawer for a pen. “But I’m glad you did. And I’m glad it worked.”
“Don’t treat this situation like it’s a good thing,” Lila snaps, being protective of me like she usually is whenever we’re talking to the detective. “He could’ve been seriously hurt.”
The detective clicks the pen and presses the tip to a yellow notepad. “I understand that. I’m just glad this all worked out.”
“I didn’t remember everything,” I chime in as Lila grows more irritated by the second. “But I did remember some of the faces and a name.”
He jots down a few notes, nodding. “How about you recount the details to me, and then we’ll start going through some photos of possible suspects. If we can’t get anywhere with that, we’ll start working on a composite sketch.”
I shudder at the idea of seeing my dad or the woman with red hair again, even if it’s just in photos. But I nod, knowing I have to do this. Knowing this could be the lead they need.
I hurry and give him an account of what I saw while I was under. When I get to the part about my father killing my mother, the room grows so quiet you can hear everyone’s heavy breathing.
“Ayden, I don’t even know what to say.” The detective shows the slightest bit of compassion. “This must be so hard for you.”
“Say you’re going to find him.” I curl my fingers inward, balling my hands into fists, battling back the tears burning in my eyes. “Say you’ll find him before he tries to cleanse his soul with Sadie’s life, or whatever the hell he has planned for her. Then when you find him, you’ll make him pay for everything he’s done.”
“I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen,” he assures me.
“Did you know about this cleansing soul thing?” I ask, gripping the armrests. “Did you know he—that the Soulless Mileas wanted to sacrifice someone they loved because they believe it’ll cleanse their souls?”
His prolonged silence answers my question.
“You knew, didn’t you?” I shake my head, struggling to keep my cool. But I hate how much I’ve been lied to throughout this investigation, how much they’ve left me in the dark.
“Over the last couple of months, I’ve learned enough about these people that I’ve had a hunch for a while what they’re intentions have been,” the detective says, setting his pen down on his desk.
“Do you think that could be why my brother was murdered?” My voice comes out off pitch, wavering, jam packed with the sadness and anger I’m carrying inside me. “Do you think he was one of my dad’s sacrifices?”
“At first I wasn’t sure, but over the last couple of weeks we’ve stumbled onto some evidence that opens that possibility,” he explains. “But Ayden, that’s about all the details I can give you right now about your brother’s case.”
“And what about Sadie?” My tone is clipped. But I don’t give a shit. I’m so sick of him not telling me what’s going on. “Is she going to be next?”
He doesn’t answer, instead pushing to his feet. “I’m going to need some more information from you, but I’d like to get you started on looking through some photos.”
Lila turns to me, her skin pale. She seemed like she was going to faint when I told everyone my mother had us for these people and their sacrifice. I’ll admit, telling that part hurt worse than nail scratches, broken bones, and wounded souls.
“Ayden, I can’t believe . . . I don’t know what to . . .” She struggles for words. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t need to say sorry. This isn’t your fault.” My voice is strained. “What’s done is done and I just want to forget about it and move on. But after I help find my sister.”
She nods, covering her hand over mine. “You can move on from this. In fact, I promise you that you will.”
“I hope so.” God, I hope so. Hope my sister’s alive. Hope that through all the darkness, there will be a light at the end of the tunnel.
I’m fucking restless as I get situated in front of the computer to scroll through photos. Blood roars in my eardrums as I wrap my fingers around the mouse. Lila is just as anxious, pacing the floor behind me while Ethan tries to get her to relax.
“Honey, you need to calm down,” he says, wrapping an arm around her and steering her toward a chair.
“I’m trying.” She bites her nails, looking at me. “Do you need anything? Water? A snack.”
I’m not hungry but clearly she wants to help me. “Water sounds good.”
Nodding, she springs to her feet and hurries off toward the vending machines just outside the room.
Ethan slumps back in the chair, letting his head rest against the wall. “I love that woman to death, but she doesn’t handle stress very well,” he mutters.
“I’m sorry,” I say, knowing it’s my fault. “For putting you guys through this.”
“Stop apologizing, Ayden.” He raises his head to look at me. “We’re glad we get to be here for you. We just want you to be safe.”
Nodding, I focus back to the computer. One photo after another, I sort through so many they all start to blur together. I’m there for so long that I worry maybe I won’t find them.
But then my heart slams to a stop.
“That’s him.” I point at the photo on the screen of a man with the same eyes and hair color as mine.
“Are you sure?” the detective asks, leaning over my shoulder to look at the screen.
He looks younger in the picture, but I can still tell it’s him. “Yes, I’m positive.” My heart goes from a complete standstill to beating uncontrollably. “That’s the man who killed my mot
her. That’s my father.”
See his face.
It’s branded in my mind
Like the tattoo on my side
Put there to remember.
You never wanted me to forget.
Guess what. I didn’t.
IT’S BEEN A COUPLE OF days since Ayden did the treatment. For the most part, everything’s been quiet in our lives. There hasn’t been much drama, and we weren’t even grounded for sneaking off to the therapy session. But Ayden is getting restless, waiting for something to happen with the case, although he won’t say much about it.
I spend a lot of time trying to cheer him up, and from the outside it seems like it’s working. But in the back of my mind, I worry he might not be dealing with stuff. It has to be hard for him. After finding out all those things about his parents. After seeing what they did. Finding out that his father paid his mother to have him.
My heart breaks for him and the pain he has to be going through.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” my friend, Maggie, asks me.
We’re sitting in front of the school beneath the tree, lounging in the sun. We’re supposed to be in class, but since it’s the final day of school, and then I’ll officially be a high school graduate, my English teacher let us have a free period.
“Not really,” I answer truthfully, stretching my legs across the grass. “Sorry, I’m just a little distracted.”
“You’re always a little distracted.” She rolls up her shirt to the bottom of her bra so the sun hits her stomach. “And I think I know why.”
“Really?” I ask with skepticism. There’s no way she could possibly know.
“Yep. It has something to do with a certain sexy Goth boy you can’t keep your hands off of.” She rests back on her hands, smiling smugly.
I relax against the tree behind me. “Okay, enlighten me then. Because I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you so do.” She pulls her glasses down, looking at me from over the top of them. “I can see it in your eyes every time the two of you are within a mile of each other.”
