Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
CARMEN
Sunlight pries my eyes open before I am even ready. It spills across my face in thin, blinding lines, and I squint, the room swimming as I try to remember where I am.
Then I hear Catherine’s voice, and the walls snap back into place.
I’m home.
“What happened?” I whisper. I push myself up, and hard pressure crashes through my skull, forcing me back down against the pillow.
Was it all a dream?
She steps closer to the bed.
“Judas,” she says. “Judas didn’t come home last night. Do you know where he is?”
“Judas?” The word slips out of me.
“He said he was going home,” she says. “But he’s not here. His phone is in his bedroom.”
The room blurs at the edges. All I saw was the man in the ski mask, Axel on the ground, and the flash of movement behind my eyes as I tried to remember what happened. My chest tightens, my pulse slams in my ears, and I try to breathe.
No. It was Judas. It had to be.
I turn my head toward the nightstand. My phone is still there. I sit up slowly, reach for it, and open our messages.
I am sorry, little sister. Sorry, I had to leave.
“Leave?” I say out loud.
Catherine snatches the phone from my hands. Her eyes move fast, scrolling, reading. Her face hardens.
No, no, no.
“Carmen, what the fuck is going on?”
“I… I don’t know.” My gaze drops to the floor. “Last night I was out with Knox. I felt dizzy after a drink. The last thing I remember is waking up here.”
The lie tastes bitter in my mouth.
Her jaw tightens. She steps closer and thrusts the phone in front of my face. “That’s not what I am talking about.” The screen fills my vision, the image impossible to ignore. “Why is Judas sending you his penis?”
“It’s just a photo from online,” I say, too quickly.
Her finger flicks the screen. “One day you will beg me to fuck you.” She looks up at me, her voice rising. “Carmen, tell me what was going on. Now.”
I stand there, silent. The floor becomes the only thing I can look at.
“You have to delete all of this,” she says. “I went through his phone. There was nothing there.” She exhales. “We have to call the cops to help us find Judas, and if they ask for your phone, they can’t find this.”
I nod, because it is easier than speaking.
She is hiding something. I feel it.
“Anything else, Carmen?” she asks, her eyes searching my face.
“No,” I say.
The doorbell rings downstairs, and her head tilts towards the open door.
“Stay here,” she says, already turning away. “Delete them now.”
Her footsteps fade down the stairs.
I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the messages on my phone. My chest is in pain, like every word I delete takes a piece of me with it. I try to call him, my thumb hovering over his name, and then I remember what she said. His phone is still in his room.
“Where are you, Judas?” I whisper to the empty air.
My eyes burn, tears blurring the screen.
Favorite people do not leave their favorite people.
They can’t. They don’t.
This has to be a dream. I pinch my skin, hard. The sting hurts, but the room doesn’t change.
My chest tightens as I lie back down, the phone resting against my ribs while I keep deleting. Tears spill from the corners of my eyes and slide into my hair.
He can’t leave.
I punch the pillow beneath my head, then roll onto my other side and press my face into the pillowcase, biting back a scream.
This is what happens when I open my heart. When I tear down the walls. I get hurt again and again and again. The anger coils in my gut, and I turn it inward because it has nowhere else to go.
I let my guard down because I want to believe someone can love something broken. But they always leave. Every time someone gets close, they decide it’s better for them to walk away. No one ever asks what is best for me. No matter how hard I want, how hard I love, it never changes the ending.
Numbness settles over me. I tell myself I will never let this happen again.
What is he sorry for? He broke me.
Catherine’s scream cuts through the house.
I know that sound. It is painful.
My head dips forward as I push myself up, the room moves, and last night’s drink still pumps through my blood. I walk step by step, my hand sliding along the wall, while the voices rise from below.
“We believe that after he killed the victim, he ran,” one of the cops says. “When he realized we were looking for him, he jumped.”
Another voice follows, while Catherine struggles to stay upright. “They found his sneakers near the cliffs, pointing toward the water. A few witnesses saw him jump.”
My eyes blur. I step closer to the railing and look down at them, my hands curling around the gold metal.
“We found the mask with the victim’s blood,” the cop continues. “And a knife with his fingerprints.”
The words fall into the space between us, and I stand there, holding my breath, waiting for the house to stop spinning.
Catherine doesn’t say a word. She barely stays on her feet, sobs tearing out of her as she clutches the edge of the cupboard that’s next to the door.
“We will search for the body, but…” one of the cops says, his head already shaking.
My legs give out. I slide down to the floor, staring through the railing at them, the world tilting.
“We are sorry for your loss.”
It was him. He saved me.
Tears spill down my cheeks. My fingers find the necklace at my throat and twist the medallion until it pulls into my skin. I sniff, my lower lip trembling, trying to hold myself together. The anger comes instead, burning inside me.
If I hadn’t gone with Knox, he would still be here.
The door closes. Catherine’s crying fills the hallway, moving through the empty house. I sit there and sob with her.
The pain cracks something open inside me. It pulls me to my feet.
I walk downstairs. At every step, I ignored everything behind me.
I reach for the door and pull it open.
Police lights fade down the street. Catherine calls my name, her voice breaking, but everything blurs, the world smearing at the edges.
How can this be the truth? How can this be the end?
I run.
I run so fast that I don’t feel the pebbles cutting into my bare feet. I fly across the driveway, into the road. Horns blare, brakes screech, and I keep going, the beach rising up in front of me.
Images flash behind my eyes of us, of what we could have been. How we could have left together, how we could have had forever.
Then there is only the ocean.
I stop when I reach the water. Cold waves lick at my feet. The sun hangs low over the horizon, blinding my eyes. And a scream rips out of me.
I walk forward. The water climbs my ankles, my calves, my knees.
I want to find him.
Hands grab me from behind.
Catherine yanks me back. I slam into her chest as she pulls me against her, her arms wrapped tight around my shoulders.
“It’s okay,” she says, breathless. “It’s okay.”
“No.” I shove at her, reaching for the water again. “I will find him.”
“No, Carmen.” She drags me back, and I scream into her, my fists pounding against her chest.
“Why?” I shout. “Why?”
She has no answer.
No one does.
She pulls me down into the sand and sits, easing me back until my head rests in her lap. The ocean stretches out in front of us, its waves still reaching us. And it’s cold, so cold.
“Remember,” I whisper, my voice breaking, “you said people want another ending.”
I choke on the words. “I want one. I need him back.”
She strokes my hair, her tears dropping onto my face.
“I don’t know if I can miss him more,” I cry out.
She says nothing.
I stare at the water like it might give him back if I look hard enough. Like the ocean will open and spit him onto the sand. But the waves keep coming.
I close my eyes, and his face rises in the dark.
His eyes find mine. His lips part, but no words come, and I hear the silence he hides behind.
I know now that not all of it is his fault.
He didn’t leave to save himself. He did it to save me.
But I would have fought the war with him if it meant keeping him close.
I was ready to fight for him. But he didn’t even stay long enough to tell me I am losing.
I choke on my own words as I push him away. If I could take them back, I would say so many different ones. Even if I know it wouldn’t lead us to where we are now, maybe he would still be here.
My heart hurts. I prepare myself to lose him. I knew that one day he might leave, because that’s what people do. But I couldn’t prepare myself for all the pain. It hurts so much.
Tears come, but they don’t fall for what we lost. They fall for everything we never get to become.
And I can’t say goodbye, because I can’t lose what I never got to have.
And I can’t say what tomorrow will bring, because I don’t see tomorrow without him in it.