Chapter 37
Kinsley
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I furrowed my brows as I scanned the screen of Braxton’s monitor. It was already dark outside when he messaged the group chat that he managed to make the picture of the footage we got from the library clearer. So now, gathered around Braxton’s gaming computer—or more like hacking nook with colorful LED lights—we could all see what Lizzie was looking at that day. It was a Newton newspaper with the date 1997 written on the top of it.
Why was she looking at this?
“This is just the first frame.” Braxton typed something on the keyboard, and the picture changed as Lizzie continued reading the paper on the monitor.
Farewell, Diana, I read before the frame changed again.
“Now we’re talking.” Braxton snapped his fingers and stood up, letting Thomas into his seat. “This was the last page she read, and she zoomed in on this one article specifically.” I furrowed my brows and leaned closer to the screen next to Thomas’s head.
There was a small picture on the page. It was one of those newborn baby announcements where the parents send a picture with a short story to the newspaper, and they print it in the next day’s paper for a good amount of money. The picture was black and white, but I could still make out a young, smiling girl with her baby in her arms and a man, who I assumed was probably the baby’s father, hugging both of them from behind. What got my attention was that I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’d already seen this picture somewhere else. The man and the woman looked like they were around our age, which was kind of terrifying to me, as I couldn’t imagine myself with kids for a few more years at least.
Under the picture, it said:
Ethan Bowman, born on October 29, 1997 to Hyacinth Cooper Bowman and Philip Bowman.
“Why was your mom looking at a Newton newspaper from 1997?” Kevin asked, and Connor shrugged beside me.
“Can we print this?” Thomas looked up at Braxton, who nodded, hurrying out of his room.
Where could I have seen that picture?
“Something is on your mind.” Thomas’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
He stood up from Braxton’s gaming chair and tilted his head, his dark eyes studying me.
“I can’t shove off the feeling that I’ve already seen that picture,” I answered, biting the inside of my cheek. “I just can’t remember where.” My voice was filled with frustration.
Thomas furrowed his brows and a small smile tugged on his lips.
“What?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
He shook his head and looked away, but I could still see his smile.
“What?” I repeated, letting out an irritated breath.
“I never thought I would live the day you would be uncertain about something,” he answered, and I groaned. “You really made me believe you can remember everything, didn’t you?” I sucked in an insulted breath.
“I can.” I scrunched my nose.
“But you can’t.” An evil grin pulled on his lips. He leaned down until our eyes were on the same level. “Where did you see that picture, Sage? Use those gray cells of yours,” he teased, brushing his nose against mine, right when Braxton rushed back into the room.
“Who’s Sage?” I heard him ask, but my attention was on Thomas.
I realized he was trying to unlock my memories by pissing me off, which to his credit, usually worked when he did it in school, but now?—
I closed my eyes, trying to imagine where I could have seen the picture, but I just couldn’t remember.
“Are you guys role-playing?” Braxton asked, and I squeezed my eyes harder.
“It’s a nickname,” I heard Connor reply.
“I don’t know.” I groaned, opening my eyes and stepping away from Thomas. “But I will,” I mumbled, turning toward Braxton.
“Here.” He handed the printed paper to Thomas, who dipped his head in a thankful way. “If I can help in any way—” he started, but Thomas cut in.
“I will write in the group chat,” he said, and Braxton’s lips curled into a victorious smile.
“Right.” He grinned before seeing us out.
The roads were abnormally dark on our way back to the Rhodes’s house. I was sitting in the passenger seat while Connor and Kevin were being cheesy in the back. I mostly focused on the road, but some of their conversations reached my ears, and I heard a lot of words like love and baby leaving their mouths. It was strange how empty the roads were, and I had to constantly remind myself that this was a small town after one in the morning to feel a bit better about it being so—well, dead.
My thoughts were still wrapped around the picture of the family as I was trying to figure out where I saw it while my eyes focused on the forest next to us. It was a starry night, well, almost every night was a starry night up here, but today it really caught my eye. Between looking at the forest, the sky, and trying to figure out the origin of the picture, I didn’t notice the car coming toward us on the ground route until it was almost too late. Thomas yanked the wheel away, and I darted my head around to read the license plate, but it was too dark.
“Everyone is all right?” he asked, stopping the car and looking into the rearview mirror.
“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “I couldn’t see their license plate.” I followed the car with my eyes.
“What the hell was that?” Connor glanced backward too. “They almost caused an accident, shouldn’t they stop?” he asked, and Thomas gritted his teeth.
“Their fog lights were on, and—” He turned the engine back on. “I don’t think that was an accident.”
When I saw the house between the trees my stomach dropped, and my palms became sweaty. I shivered as I got out of the car and looked around in the darkness around me. Before this, all I could think about was a warm bath but now…
The four of us walked up the stairs to the porch, and Thomas opened the front door for us. I felt too tired to even talk about what just happened, and my mind still didn’t let go of the family’s picture, so instead of going to the living room to watch a movie, which Connor insisted, as a therapy session, I went upstairs. I heard Thomas’s footsteps behind me on the stairs, and I saw him disappear behind the door of his room before I pushed the key into mine, unlocking it and doing the same. It felt unnecessary to turn the lights on as all I wanted to do was to take a shower and sleep. I walked to the bed in the darkness, finally too tired to care or feel scared, and I started to feel the sheet for my pajamas when I felt something warm against my palms. I furrowed my brows and tapped again before jumping backward with a shriek. It wasn’t just warm that I felt anymore, it was something wet. Wet and solid. Panic washed over me. My hands itched as I backed toward the wall, searching for the light switch with my elbow. My heart thundered in my chest while I felt the liquid pour down on my arms. Terrified tears poked my eyes as I made up different scenarios in my head about what was on the bed. What was on my hands. I finally found the switch and held my breath while I pushed it up.
A gulping sound left my throat as my focus found the red stains on the white sheets. Blood. So much blood. And feathers. Green feathers covering the white sheet. My eyes went wide. This was Doctor Watson and the bicycle wheel all over again. My stomach turned, and I had to put my arm over my mouth to not throw up, but I forgot about the blood. I felt the hot fluid on my lips and I tried to wipe it off, but it just made everything worse. The door opened next to me, and Thomas stormed in with worry in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, what ha—” he cut himself off when he noticed the blood on me.
“It doesn’t come off. It doesn’t come off,” I repeated, gasping for air.
I could smell it under my nose where I had smudged it with my arms. Thomas pulled his white T-shirt over his head and wiped my mouth with it. I gulped again and realized I had been crying this whole time.
“It’s okay, baby, you are all right.” He tried to wipe the blood off my hands, but they stayed red.
Red. Red. Red.
I shook my head, trying to calm down and steady myself when I heard multiple footsteps approach. My eyes widened, and Thomas searched my face for a moment before pushing the door closed on us.
“Thomas.” Connor knocked irritatingly. “You called,” he added, and Thomas rested his forehead against mine.
“Can I let him in?” he asked in a soothing voice, but all I could do was nod, my vision blurring.
“You can come in. But, Miller, you stay out.”
I let out a breath, my stomach turning again. Connor sneaked into the room, and I took a step back, my knees trembling.
“What—” he started, then noticed my cried-out eyes, then the blood on my hands. “The fuck happened, Kinsley?” He held my wet hands. “Are you all right? Is she all right?”
Thomas motioned toward the bed with his head, and I turned my eyes to the walls. It didn’t help. I could still see the twisted body of the green parrot on the sheets in front of my mind’s eyes, and I felt the vomit crawl up in my throat.
“What the fuck. Is that…” From the corner of my eye I saw Thomas nod, his arms steady around me. “And what’s that?” Connor added.
“Shit.” Thomas let go of me.
I turned around to see what they were looking at. My ears started to ring as blood flowed into them. There was a dead bird on my bed. I felt someone grab my chin, and the next thing I saw was Thomas’s dark eyes as he held my head in place. His lips were moving, and I knew he was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him. I went numb. It felt like my body was going into shock. I tried to breathe, but my lungs seemed too small. I saw Connor doing something at the bed, but I forced my eyes away, feeling too close to puking. Thomas’s arms hugged around me, and he lifted me against his chest, taking me out of the room. I couldn’t move; I wasn’t even sure I was blinking. All I could see was Bob Marley’s twisted body on the bed and then my childhood budgerigar on the concrete. Both surrounded by bloody feathers and bones. Small, broken bones.
I heard a door close, just before my legs touched the cold floor again. I took a shaky breath, inhaling the scent of Thomas’s chest—sandalwood, cedar, and bodywash—before opening my eyes. His eyes were on me, too, studying as he tugged a loose hair behind my ear. He had beautiful eyes. Dark, they were so, so dark; so calming, I found peace in them. He stepped to the bathtub and started running the water. Then he directed me to the basin and washed the rest of the blood off my skin. I watched with a knot in my throat as the reddish water disappeared down the drain.
“Can I take your clothes off?” He turned me toward him and caressed my chin.
I nodded with glassy eyes, and he pulled my top over my head. All of Thomas’s attention was on freeing me from my clothes, and I’ve never felt more grateful. I didn’t even feel cold when the last piece of fabric left my body and hit the floor. Thomas turned me around and helped me into the bathtub. I pulled my legs to my chest and rested my head on my knees while the warm water slowly filled up the tub.
“Lean back,” Thomas said, his voice low, and I did.
I was just sitting there feeling dirty in the clean water while Thomas wetted my hair with the showerhead when I heard a heart-wrenching howl, and a sob left my lips.
“It’s okay,” Thomas soothed me, massaging my scalp, and I shook my head. “There is nothing wrong with crying, Sage,” he added, and I pressed my lips into a thin line.
Kevin’s cries filled up the house, and I could even hear Connor’s comforting voice.
“I—” I tried to say something, but the words abandoned me.
I hugged my legs and let my head fall forward to my knees. Thomas pulled his hands out of my hair and sat down at the edge of the bathtub. I raised my eyes to him. He looked at me, helpless, with pain in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out how to help but couldn’t. I couldn’t either.
“You scared me so fucking much when you screamed,” he said, his voice husky as he brushed his fingertips against my cheek. “I was so fucking scared that something had happened to you.” I swallowed hard. I hadn’t even realized I screamed. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so fucking sorry, Sage,” he said breathily, and I winced.
He was apologizing when it was my fault?
“Stop apologizing.” I pulled my head away.
I didn’t deserve this. I shouldn’t be the one getting her hair washed and bathed. It should be Kevin. I reached for the showerhead and turned on the water again to wash the shampoo out of my hair when Kevin’s cries reached me again, and my eyes watered. I couldn’t keep in the sob this time, either, and when Thomas reached for me, I didn’t pull away. I let him gather me into his arms, and I cried into the nape of his neck. I gasped for air every other second, desperately grasping into Thomas’s hair and back while he held me tight, stroking my wet hair.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” he whispered. I wasn’t sure if I was the only one, he was trying to convince. “I promise,” he added, gripping me harder like he was afraid I would slip out from between his arms.