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“I never thought she’d fall off the grid like that,” Jason mutters as he comes into the living room, having just finished a conversation in the kitchen with yet another of our former Marine units. “Funny thing is that rich folks seem to be way better at disappearing than any of your run-of-the-mill street crooks.”
“Until we figure out her game plan, it’s going to be hard to figure out where she’s gone to,” I say, glancing back at Sully. “Hopefully the traffic cams will spot her. Cynthia may be rich and capable, but she is also easily recognizable. She’ll pop up somewhere, eventually.”
“I still can’t get a hold of Selina, either” Jason says, his brow furrowed deeply. “I called the store but there was no answer.”
“It’s the holidays, man, Christmas Eve. What did you expect?”
“Dammit, man, it’s killing me,” he says, shaking his head. “We did her wrong on so many levels. How the hell are we going to make it up to her? I want her back. I need her.”
“We all need her. But she needs a little bit of time to gather her thoughts and process everything that has happened,” I tell him. “In the meantime, we need to get rid of Cynthia, once and for all. So, whatever Selina is up to right now, leave it be, and give her the space to work through it. As long as she’s as far away from Cynthia as possible, I think she’ll be alright.”
Sully comes closer, putting his phone away. “I’m waiting for some footage,” he says. “He’s got the full name, the license plate, the DMV photos and social media profiles. That’s enough to get a search program running across the board. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Good. Thank you, Sully,” I say.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he replies.
I have an idea of where she might be, but it doesn’t entirely make sense, nor does it feel plausible. Cynthia didn’t want Selina around. With Selina gone, I would’ve expected Cynthia to be pleased and right back at my door, fawning over me while pushing my closest friends away. It seemed like a natural outcome based on her behavior and reactions. But now Cynthia is also gone. And until I know what she’s up to, I’m rather uneasy.
“I don’t like it, either” I say. I zip up my bag and carry it over to the door while Jason goes upstairs, muttering under his breath.
“Listen, I’ll have a look through the rooms upstairs, just in case we forgot anything,” Sully says. “I need to keep busy.”
“I get it, Sully. Do what you gotta do, man. I’m wrapping up down here in the meantime,” I tell him. “We’re flying back tonight.”
Listening to their footsteps upstairs, I wonder if Jason and Sully are actually doing better or they’re just amped up by Cynthia’s unexpected and awfully suspicious absence. Jason hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol since that night. Sully appears to be calmer, too, and better focused. Perhaps it’s the idea of Christmas coming around and Selina being gone on top of Cynthia’s scheming. Or maybe he’s just tired of replaying the same emotional turmoil.
We’ve all grown plenty since last year, but we should’ve done a better job of implementing those lessons with Selina. We’re the ultimate reason she’s gone, not Cynthia. All Cynthia did was facilitate Selina’s departure, but she didn’t cause it. Perhaps it’s this particular reasoning that has the three of us sharper than ever, reaching out to our Corps contacts and friends within the DOJ to get a line on Cynthia before she does more damage to an already fragile relationship.
All I wanted was to have a tranquil and beautiful Christmas together. Me, Sully, Jason, and Selina. The four of us, naked and basking in a lazy afterglow on Christmas Day. Our hearts and souls interconnected, our bodies intertwined. It would’ve been perfect, sweet, and peaceful—a precious moment in time for me to someday look back on.
It all fell apart so quickly, I barely registered the collapse. I heard the noises, though, smelled the danger as soon as Cynthia first showed up at my door. I should’ve done something then. She played her part, and she played it well. I almost believed her to be a changed woman.
Sully comes downstairs, white as a sheet of paper as he holds up a notebook. “Cynthia left a diary in Selina’s room.”
“Wait, what?” I manage, torn away from my thoughts. “What diary?”
“That’s the thing… it’s not real. It’s fiction. These pages are filled with lies,” he says.
“Hold on,” I mumble as he hands me the journal. I start flipping through it, briefly checking the dates of each entry, along with the first few paragraphs. The more I read, the tighter my stomach gets as I realize that Sully is right. “It is all lies,” I say. “None of this happened, at least, most of it didn’t happen.”
“She got the sex bits right,” Sully crosses his arms.
I shake my head slowly. “Jason never badgered her on a drinking binge, and I never said any of these things.”
“And I certainly never hurt her in any way,” he replies.
“Where did you find this again?”
“Selina’s room.”
My blood runs cold as the implication becomes painfully clear. Cynthia left this behind on purpose. She hasn’t set foot inside the cabin since last year, so the diary must’ve been here ever since. Selina never mentioned it, but it’s clear she’s read at least some, if not all of it. Garbage. Every frickin’ page is loaded with garbage. Disingenuous bullshit meant to skew the reader’s opinion about the three of us.
At first, Cynthia paints us as the men of her dreams. But as the diary progresses, she starts to paint a much different picture, adding the shades and nuances that more than likely caused doubt and pushed Selina away. But this was only stage one of a much larger plan. All of a sudden it hits me, the big picture in its clearest form. The diary was the first step of her devious plot and with each chapter, Cynthia played us like a fiddle.
“Matthew, she left this in the bedroom on purpose,” Sully says. “Selina had to have read it. And based on what I’ve read about myself, it’s no wonder she chose to leave without saying goodbye.”
“Cynthia has been playing us since last year,” I manage, the air practically knocked out of my lungs as the realization sets in. “This thing was probably here since before she… before she did the unthinkable.”
