Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
November 3rd, 2022
Hawthorne University, Mills Creek, Massachusetts
“ I t’s a cabin.” Sebastian’s voice was slightly muffled over the phone. She could hardly hear him as it was, and the bustling wind didn’t help with the noise either.
The phone was held between her shoulder and pressed into her cheek as she attempted to remove her textbook from her bag. “What?”
“The address is for a cabin in Cambridge,” Sebastian reiterated.
“Does it belong to her family?”
“The Montgomerys used to vacation over the summers in Maine, or at the lake house, sometimes New York in the winters for Christmas,” Augustus said over the line. “If they owned a cabin in Massachusetts, we would’ve known about it by now. Willow would’ve flaunted it, made a big deal about how many bedrooms it had and the endless mimosas.”
“Either that or it would’ve been in an article by now. Mrs. Montgomery loves to gush over the mayor’s many vacation homes and how much taking time away with family means to him. It’s all a load of nonsense.” Sarcasm dripped from Lilia’s lips.
“Montgomery practically has his reelection secured. Grieving father, honorable man who fixes his marriage.” Sebastian feigned a news broadcaster voice. “Thomas Montgomery has the best interest of Mills Creek in his sights.”
“Can we focus?” Augustus interrupted them. “How far is the cabin from here?”
“An hour,” Sebastian said.
“Guys, do you think we should’ve told the police about what happened the other day?” Lilia asked, changing the subject again.
“And explain to them how we broke into the lake house?” She could practically hear Sebastian’s brow raise over the line. “No thank you.”
“But someone was there, right? We all heard it.”
“It was the wind.” Augustus willed himself to believe it.
“The wind turned on a video recording?” Sebastian snorted. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, Gus.”
“Can we please focus on the topic at hand?” Augustus sighed.
The wind picked up again, tugging at the hem of Lilia’s plaid skirt. She paused, her loafers clacking against the cobblestones as she took in the surrounding scene. Campus was quiet today, the usual hustle and bustle replaced with an eerie stillness that only seems to amplify the ancient architecture around her. The stone buildings loomed overhead, their ivy-covered facades seeming to whisper secrets as she walks past them.
The university, with its Gothic spires and timeworn archways, felt like a place out of time—a relic of a bygone era, steeped in history. Even now, she could feel the weight of that history pressing down on her, the centuries-old stones bearing witness to countless lives and stories, many of them forgotten. The shadows cast by the buildings seemed to stretch out, as if reaching for her, drawing her into their depths. Lilia quickened her pace, heading toward the campus coffee shop. It was a familiar place, a sanctuary of sorts where she could think clearly, away from the suffocating expectations of her mother and the ever-present tension within their group. But even here, amid the comforting aroma of coffee and the soft hum of conversation, she couldn’t escape the feeling that something is off—like the very air around her is thick with secrets. She attributed it to her paranoia from the past few months.
“Are we really going to do this?” Lilia asked, her voice low as she maneuvered around a group.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and she could almost hear the gears turning in Sebastian’s mind. “We have to,” he finally said. “If we want to know what happened to Willow, we have to check it out.”
Lilia sighed, pushing open the door to the coffee shop. The familiar bell chimed, and she was greeted with the warmth of the interior—a stark contrast to the chill outside. She made her way to the counter, ordering her usual before finding a seat by the window. The world outside seemed distant, almost dreamlike, as she pulled her textbook from her bag, trying to focus on something— anything —other than Willow.
But even as she tried to lose herself in her studies, her mind kept drifting back to the address, to the cabin in Cambridge. What was Willow doing with that address? And why had she hidden it away in her book? Was it a secret?
Her thoughts were interrupted when she spotted a familiar face across the room—Amelia, sitting at one of the tables with a stack of books in front of her. Lilia hesitated for a moment, then made her way over.
“I’ll call you guys back,” she murmured, lowering her phone. “Hey,” she said, slipping into the chair opposite Amelia. “Mind if I join you?”
Amelia looked up, her expression a mixture of surprise and wariness. “Lilia, hi. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
She offered a small smile. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just saw you over here and thought . . . well, we haven’t really talked much since . . . ”
“Since Willow,” Amelia finished for her. She lowers her gaze, fiddling with the edge of her book. “It’s okay. I’m glad you came over. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually.”
“Yeah?” Lilia tilted her head.
Amelia nodded, her eyes flickering up to meet Lilia’s. “I wanted to say thank you. For . . . you know, being there for Willow. She always spoke so highly of you.”
Lilia’s chest tightened, and she forced herself to smile. “She was a good friend. My best friend, really.”
The two sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between them. Lilia studied Amelia, noticing how the new hair color seemed to bring out the sharpness in her features, making her look even more like Willow. The resemblance was uncanny, and it was unsettling, as if Willow’s ghost was sitting right in front of her.
“I like your new hair,” Lilia said softly, trying to lighten the mood. “It suits you.”
Amelia blushed slightly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks. I just felt like it was time for a change.” She looked down, then added, almost as an afterthought, “It’s strange, though. Every time I look in the mirror, I see her.”
She nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well. “The world feels different without her,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Amelia nodded, and her eyes misting over. “Lifeless,” she agreed. “Everything feels . . . hollow.”
There was another silence, thicker this time, filled with the weight of their shared grief. Lilia glanced out the window, watching the rain begin to splatter against the glass, each drop chasing after the other.
“I’m sorry,” Amelia said, suddenly breaking the silence. “For how my parents acted at the funeral. They were just . . . I don’t know, they didn’t know how to cope.”
“It’s okay,” she replied. The Montgomerys had been distant, as if their grief had erected a barrier between them and everyone else. But, now seeing Amelia’s sincerity, she felt a pang of sympathy for the family torn apart by loss.
She hesitated, then asked what’s been gnawing at her ever since Willow died. “Amelia, do you think someone wanted to hurt Willow? Did she ever tell you anything?”
Amelia’s expression darkened, and for a moment, Lilia thought she wouldn’t answer. But then she bit her lip and nodded.
“Actually, there was something. A couple of weeks before she disappeared, she got this letter in the mail. It really freaked her out.”
Lilia frowned. “What did it say?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Amelia admitted, “but she took it to the police. They brushed it off, said it was probably just someone trying to rattle her because of our dad’s reelection campaign.”
“Do you have any idea who might’ve sent it?”
Amelia hesitated, then looked away, her voice barely audible when she finally spoke. “For a while, Willow thought it was you.”
Lilia’s breath caught in her throat, and she let out a startled laugh, certain she misheard. “Willow thought I sent it? Why would she think that? I would never do something like that to her.”
“She always said you were jealous of her and Augustus,” Amelia said quietly, still not meeting her gaze. “I guess she thought it was only a matter of time before you let your frustrations out.”
She felt like the ground dropped out from under her. “Did she tell you that? Why would she?—”
Before she could even finish, Amelia glanced at the clock and scrambled to gather her things. “Oh shit, I’m late for class. I’m sorry, Lilia. We should talk soon though, okay?”
Lilia could only nod as Amelia rushed off, leaving her alone with the storm brewing outside and the even darker one now swirling around inside her. The idea that Willow could have thought she was capable of sending a threatening message was absurd. She could never, would never. Willow was her friend—she could never hurt her.
She slumped back against her chair, her mind spinning. What had Willow really thought of her?
Willow was an enigma. She always held them at arm’s length, constantly ready and more than capable of disposing of them when they no longer suited her. She made sure that they always knew that as well. Willow seemed to know everything about them, but they knew nothing, not really, about her at all.
A flash of memory cut through the confusion. It had been a few weeks before the lake house party, in one of the many arguments she and Willow back then. Lilia had known about the cheating, about the lies, and she had confronted Willow, her voice low and shaking with anger she could no longer hold back.
“You’re going to break his heart, Willow!” Lilia yelled after her in a fit of rage. “You need to tell him the truth!”
Willow spun on her heels. “Why do you even care, Lilia? It’s not like he’s yours.” She taunted, “But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve always wanted. Do you honestly think I don’t see the way that you look at him? He’s mine, and he always will be.”
Lilia remembered the sting of those words, the way that Willow’s eyes had flashed with something darker than she had ever seen before. And now, sitting alone in the coffee shop, she wondered just how much more there was to her friend that she never saw.
The rain outside grew heavier, the drops pelting against the window like stones. As she watched the world blur into a wash of gray, Lilia couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d only just begun to uncover the truth about the girl she thought she knew.