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There was no nose tilting when Gretchen first saw her again. There were hugs, tears, and general horror for Orion. Palpable empathy. Luckily the tears and physical contact hadn’t lasted for long since Gretchen decided to go straight into “mom mode” and proceed to organize the entire funeral, in a way an upper-middle-class Catholic mother might do.
So, exactly in a way Jaclyn would hate.
But it was a service. It was something to show her life mattered.
Members of the media were everywhere, of course. Police were barring entry to the cemetery, along with members of B.A.C.A.—Bikers Against Child Abuse. It was big news and local government took the privacy of the girls, and the funeral, seriously.
That didn’t mean the media members didn’t try.
Another victim lost. Another fucking headline.
Orion hadn’t realized that the priest had stopped droning on until April squeezed her hand.
Orion snapped her head up.
April was holding out a rose for her.
Orion blinked.
“You throw it in,” she said gently.
Orion looked in front of them, at the hole they were lowering Jaclyn into. Then back at the rose April was offering her. It was white.
She didn’t want to take it. It disgusted her in all of its beauty, like some kind of insane ritual to make death graceful or peaceful when, in reality, Jaclyn died with a needle in her arm and demons in her heart.
But she took the rose anyway. On autopilot, she dropped the rose onto the coffin, even though she knew that the rose wouldn’t stop Jaclyn’s body from rotting, decaying to nothing.
She pretended she wasn’t the slightest bit jealous of her.
“Ri,” April said gently.
Orion didn’t speak, didn’t correct her even though the name cut like a blade.
“Mom organized a little reception at our place,” April continued.
Orion flinched inwardly at the mere thought of walking through that front door. That porch. That fucking porch.
She continued to stare at the raised patch of dirt. No headstone yet. They took a while, apparently. Which was good, since she had no clue what was meant to go on it.
‘Jaclyn Reynolds lived for eleven years total outside of captivity.’
Orion wondered what her own headstone would say. Probably much of the same.
“Orion,” April repeated.
“I . . .” Orion trailed off. She wanted to tell her to go away. She wanted to banish her, scream, and rid herself of any responsibility of going to a fucking wake that was tastefully catered and sufficiently nauseating. She would’ve said it, but something stopped her. Something about the softness of April’s voice. The fact she never left, no matter how cruel Orion was to her.
It gave her pause.
But it wasn’t going to stop her forever. Because if she had a choice to be cruel or to walk through the door of that house again, it would be the former.
“I think we’re going to need a moment,” a voice interjected. Smooth. Confident, if a little wobbly with grief.
Both Orion and April’s eyes went to Shelby.
She was almost unrecognizable in a sleek black dress underneath an expensive looking black coat, leather gloves, and long black boots.
Orion sometimes forgot that she came from money. Or at least what a trailer park girl thought of as money. It was nothing compared to what they had now.
Orion hadn’t chosen to dress up for the occasion. She was wearing black jeans, spike heels—that didn’t sink into the ground because it was that frozen—a black turtleneck, and an expensive leather jacket. All bought online, of course. Orion had no intentions of walking into a fucking mall, or some expensive boutique where they’d sniff the poverty on her, no matter how expensive her perfume was.
But Orion discovered she really liked clothes. Fashion. The way she could transform herself. Hide herself in lace and leather.
Shelby didn’t look different because of her clothes and her makeup, slightly smudged with tears. No, she looked stronger, stood taller, despite the fact she was shorter than both April and Orion.
“I’ll take her back,” Shelby said, voice still firm. Orion hadn’t heard her speak like that . . . ever.
April looked hesitant, as if Shelby was some stranger. As if she was still her best friend with no years between them.
“It’s fine,” Orion said, her voice not sounding nearly as strong as Shelby’s. That filled her with shame.
April’s eyes went behind them, to where she knew Maddox lurked. “Okay, well, I’ll see you at my place?”
Orion nodded, though she had no fucking plans of heading there. It was rude, but having gone through what she went through, you got away with being an asshole. She’d send a fruit basket to Gretchen or some shit.
April squeezed her hand once more before turning and leaving, the ground crackling underneath her boots.
Shelby and Orion stood in silence for a long time. They stared at the dirt slowly covering Jaclyn’s body. The earth swallowing her up.
