The Dead Girls Club - Damien Angelica Walters Page 0,117
have I done?
More smoke, darker now, wisps down the hallway, turning the air caustic. The heat from fighting, from the growing blaze, slicks my skin with sweat. The family room is impassable and flames dance along the walls of the hallway.
I stumble to the front door and yank it open. Run to the front lawn and fall to my knees, wheezing, my chest and throat aching from the effort it takes.
From ground to roof, the house is destruction. Shingles tumble like dying birds. Broken glass glitters. The fire roars. I curl into a ball and rock back and forth. I’m numb. Terrified. Nothing and everything and all that’s in between. I ache from neck to belly to wrist. I ache even more inside, where no one can see. Voices rise and fall, say my name, tell me help is on the way. The wail of sirens pierces the night.
“I killed her,” I say, but the words are lost to grief. When the first responders arrive, I’m still crying.
And the house continues to burn.
EPILOGUE
TWO WEEKS LATER
I dream about Sarah, about sliding the knife into her chest, how dreadfully easy it was. I wake, fall back to sleep, into a different dream: Becca and I in the house holding hands and chanting Red Lady, Red Lady. When I wake again, I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for the sun to rise.
After it does, I send a text, receive a brief one in response. Traffic is heavy, but not horrible, not until I get to 695 anyway.
Her eyes wary, my mom opens the door before I can knock. Two mugs wait on the kitchen table, curling steam into the air. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to make breakfast,” she says, “but I have blueberry muffins if you’re hungry?”
“No, I’m fine,” I say, sitting in the closest chair, the one that was my spot when I was a kid. “Where’s Dad?”
She sits, cupping her mug. “He’s with a friend. I told him you wanted to come over and talk.”
“Does he know why I’m here?”
She winces and looks away. “No, he doesn’t.”
I sip my coffee. Beneath the smell, there’s another lingering in the air: the sour bite of anxiety. Of fear. When Mom asks about the house, about Ryan, we both know what—who—waits in the pauses between. I don’t want to have this conversation either, but I want it all to be over. Inasmuch as it can be.
I rub the cast on my wrist. I spent the night of the fire in the hospital, but there was no permanent damage to my lungs or throat. In addition to the hairline fracture, I’ve a map of fading bruises and a stiffness in my lower back when I turn the wrong way. It could’ve been much worse.
I tried calling Ryan that night, but he didn’t answer. He showed up at the hospital the next morning, though, but it wasn’t a tear-filled reunion with hugs and promises of forgiveness. That only happens in the movies. It was strange and awkward and it hurt, but we spoke, mostly about what happened that night and the events that led up to it, not including what really happened to Becca. We’ve talked several times since then and even met for dinner two nights ago, but what’s between us is a fragile sort of peace. He’s still angry, understandably so, that I didn’t tell him what was going on, but there’s still love there, too. And concern. But right now he’s staying with his brother while I’m in an extended-stay hotel near my office.
After dinner we kissed and I came very close to asking him to come back to the hotel with me, but I was afraid he might say no. I will next time, though. I’d like to think we’ll be okay, eventually, even if the road there is rocky. We’ve been together a long time. You don’t just throw something like that away.
In spite of the firefighters’ best efforts, our house is gone. I’ve driven past it twice, and the haphazard pile of charred timber doesn’t look like it could ever have been anything else. I know it’s replaceable, but it hurts more somehow than the bruises on my skin.
The official story: Sarah was stalking me and I didn’t tell anyone because I thought it would make it worse. She showed up at the house and attacked me, the house catching fire sometime during the struggle. I had bruises all over my body and finger