Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
Nora and I head out as the sun begins to set. She offers to give me a ride home, which I politely decline. I’ve hit my limit for car time today. I make Nora swear to tell my mom and Paige she drove me home if they ask. She agrees and doesn’t question it.
I know it’s dangerous. That every time I venture out alone, I’m taking a risk.
But it gives me time to think. Time to think about Finn, and how I’m going to tell him the town has given up on him. Not Nora, not me, but everyone else.
As I approach the house, I can barely make out the radio playing through one of the open windows. Nineties rock. I know now that it’s Finn’s doing, and he’s almost made a game out of it—seeing how fast he can change it back.
Margot’s bedroom light is on up on the second floor, and the sounds of an action movie filter through the front screen. Probably Sloane, who prefers action movies to Aisha’s documentaries.
And sprawled across the grass past the porch steps, looking like a literal corpse, is Finn himself. He’s got his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.
I tell myself he isn’t out here waiting for me—that I don’t want him to be out here waiting for me—but I know he is, and I know I do. Despite extensive effort on my part, he’s dug under my skin like a parasite.
At my approach, his eyes snap open, and he sits up. A grin spreads over his face, but it dims at my expression.
“Hey,” he says. “You okay?”
I say nothing, joining him on the grass, sitting cross-legged.
“Long day,” I say.
“Want to talk about it?”
I frown.
“My day was spent watching nature documentaries with Aisha, so whatever you’ve got, it has to be better than the intricacies of the muskrat social hierarchy.”
I pick at the blades of grass in front of me, starting a pile of strands on top of my sneaker. I look anywhere but at him. “Two detectives came to the shop today,” I say. “Browning and Gonzales?”
“I know who they are,” he says, voice edged. Nora mentioned Finn’s run-ins with law enforcement. How when he tried to stand between his dad and his mom and sister, the police took his dad’s side. Gave him the record that may have contributed to how little effort was put into finding him.
I tuck my hair behind my ears. “They’ve been reevaluating your case. Not just yours, but…” The words writhe around on my tongue.
“Say it.”
“They’re closing your case.”
“Only mine?”
“A few others, too, I think.”
Finn draws his knees to his chest and slings his arms around them. “Okay.”
I flick the pile of grass off my shoe. “You don’t seem bothered by that.”
“I’ve never expected them to find me, Jo,” he says.
The words hit my skin and break apart like buckshot. “Finn.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “I mean, it isn’t, but it is what it is, I guess.”
His easy defeat forces more puzzle pieces into place.
“It’s like you don’t even want them to figure out what happened to you,” I say.
“Every time I ask, you shut down. I know you told Sloane and Aisha not to talk to me about it, too.” Finn opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, I press forward.
“And you didn’t tell me about Ingrid. It’s like you’re actively fighting any investigation I try. ”
“You’re not a cop, Jo. It’s hardly an investigation,” he says.
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry for giving a shit about what happened to you. Would you rather I pretend you’re not here? Let you be the runaway everyone has decided you are?”
Finn narrows his eyes. “Why are you trying so damn hard to save us?”
“Because I couldn’t save her,” I reply without meaning to. It’s a truth that burrowed deep into my belly and has been rotting since. I’ve gotten so good at not looking at it, I can pretend it isn’t there most of the time.
Finn makes it a lot harder.
“Harper.” He speaks gently, as if I’m a wild animal about to bolt.
I avert his gaze and lie back on the grass, folding my hands over my stomach and exhaling sharply.
Finn hesitates only a moment before joining me. He’s close enough that our elbows should brush.
“I was still conscious after the car flipped,” I say. “I don’t know how long I stayed awake, but I remember climbing out of the car. Pulling myself out of the ditch and to the roadside. The last thing I remember is punching 911 into my phone.”
I clamp my eyes shut against the tears burning at the backs of them. The memories are clear as crystal and slick as ice. The doctors said it was a miracle I was able to get out of my seat belt, let alone drag myself through the broken window and out of the car.
“I passed out before I hit call.” I open my eyes, and a traitorous tear slips down my cheek, falling into the grass. “Harper didn’t die on impact. They put her time of death an hour or two before the ambulance got there.”
“Jo,” Finn says, like he already knows where I’m going with this.
“If I’d pressed one more damn button, maybe she—”
“Stop,” he says. He sits up, and I do the same, peering over at him.
“You think I don’t know what I’m doing. That I’m running into those woods blind, searching for ghosts. And maybe I am,” I say. “But I’m not going to stop.”