him off, too.
“Oh, so was she dead before, or after he shoved her in the trunk?” The room goes silent, and the only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my chest.
“We did everything that we could--” Jerry starts to give me an excuse, but I’m not having it.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I’m so angry I’m shaking. I pound both of my fists on the table as my voice cracks. They knew, and did nothing. My heart beats too hard, my blood rushes too fast. “Why wasn't she good enough?” I feel my heart twist in my chest. Would Melissa have been good enough? Would they have saved her? Tears leak from my eyes as multiple people start talking over one another to justify their actions. This happens. Sacrifices are made. I know this. But it's not okay.
I stare into Harrison's eyes as I inform him, “She had a son.” I don't bother wiping the tears off my face. I'm too far gone for this. “What if it had been your mother? Or your sister?” I yell out my questions so loud it makes my throat sore. I see Jerry reaching out for me from the corner of my eye. I stand up from the table and my chair falls back. I almost stumble over it, just trying to get out of the room.
She was a person. She was a victim. She was worth saving.
I would have saved her. I would have risked everything to save her.
“You don’t understand. We couldn't risk the entire operation,” Harrison calls out to me as I turn my back on him and leave. I can faintly hear the other officers, but I don’t listen to what they’re saying. I don’t make it to my office. I turn the corner and crouch to the ground. Sobs tear through my chest and I know they can hear me, but I don’t care. I have to purge this sickness that’s taken over my body. I feel lightheaded and nauseated.
I would do anything to go back and save her.
I can’t do this. I shake my head as my face heats and my hands tremble. It’s too much. I’ve failed my sister, but I’m just not strong enough to handle this.
I brush away the tears with the back of my hand and slowly stand, resting against the wall.
I’ll find another way. I can’t chase ghosts anymore.
Tonya
I look around my apartment, and it’s almost pathetic how little there is to pack up. I don’t know how I didn’t notice. I look down at the open box next to my bookshelf. It's full of all my favorite romance novels. I used to love reading. From Fifty Shades and BB Hamel to Riley Rollins’ Bad Boys and Marci Fawn's Mafia men. I huff a laugh, but it's humorless and pains my chest. I only read books with happily ever afters, but this is real life, and there's no guaranteed HEA for me.
I didn't take a single book out the entire time I've been here. I used to read every night. It's been so long. It was my stress relief. I could get lost in a book and forget the world around me. A woman with a book never goes to bed alone. But I've been alone every night and I never sought out the comfort. I never tried to get lost in a different world. Maybe a part of me was just punishing myself, like I deserved to be alone and without any happiness.
I should call my mom to let her know I’m headed home, but I don’t want to. The last time I called her she picked a fight. She likes to throw the fact that I used to party in my face. She likes to blame Melissa getting taken on me. She twists it around in such a sick way that I can see her logic. And I can’t take that shit right now.
I pull my hair up and into a ponytail. It’s just habit now. I hardly ever used to wear my hair up, but it’s nice to get it away from my face. I’ll have to think of something else though, I want as few reminders as possible. I want everything about these last few months to just disappear. It hurts too much.
I feel like a failure on so many levels. I know my sister wouldn’t think that, or at least she wouldn’t tell me that I failed her. My chest hurts just