Chapter 35
CHAPTER 35
WILLA
I t took nearly a week for everything to come together. Because I wanted to mimic the circumstances of the night everything went wrong as much as possible, we waited for the weather to cooperate. The storm off the coast wasn’t anything worrisome. Certainly not a hurricane. It might not even make it close to land before we were through with all of this. But it would add to the ambiance and hopefully be another weight on the side of remembering.
“Okay, Daniel’s in place and has the bonfire started. Bree’s in-bound with dinner. It’s time.” Sawyer smoothed his hands down my arms. “You ready?”
I took a breath. “As I’ll ever be.”
Gabi extended a hand with two little orange pills in her palm. “Remember, the propranolol will help control your heart rate and the shaking and sweating. You’ll be a little tired, but it won’t sedate you or affect your memory.”
That had been Gabi’s genius idea. Use chemistry to circumvent the physiological aspects of the panic attack. I’d been nervous. Since my time at the hospital, the only prescription meds I’d taken were antibiotics. But we’d done a test run earlier in the week, which had allowed Sawyer to drive me all the way to the edge of Osprey Beach. I’d still been ill at ease, but I hadn’t lost control. It had felt… miraculous.
I swallowed down the pills with most of a glass of water.
“It’ll take about an hour for it to reach peak efficacy, so that gives us time to get out there, have some food, play with the dogs.”
That was another element of the plan. While we wanted to duplicate the bonfire, we also didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. If anybody was watching, this would just look like a group of friends hanging out at the beach, as so many people did. It wouldn’t be until after that I’d really begin pushing things. Assuming I lasted that long.
Wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts, I nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Gabi squeezed me in a hug. “I know this is hard for you, and I’m proud you’re being brave. But remember to be kind to yourself. If it doesn’t go how you want, we can try something else.”
“Thanks.” I really hoped we didn’t have to try something else. I hoped that coming at the trigger so directly would pop open my faulty memory like a key in a lock. That was probably far too simplistic an aspiration, but I held onto it, nonetheless.
“I’ll meet y’all out there.”
Sawyer waited until Gabi had gotten into her car and headed down the drive to pull me in. “I’m gonna be right there the whole time. If you want to pull the plug at any point, you say so. You’ll get no arguments from any of us.”
I leaned into him, soaking in his warmth and strength. “I want to think I wouldn’t pull the plug. That I’ll be strong enough to face whatever needs facing. For Gwen, for myself, I’m going to try. And I need you to let me, even if it gets hard. No matter how I react, whatever happened… already happened. It can’t truly hurt me anymore. I might not remember that in the moment, so I need you to.”
“I suspect it’s gonna be a rough night for us both.”
“It’ll be better because you’re with me. I love you, Sawyer.”
“I love you, too, Wren. Let’s do this thing.”
We piled into his truck for the drive down the west side of the island, to where that night had begun. I made the concession of riding up front with him instead of behind the seat under a blanket. Instead, Roy was in the back seat, buckled into his seatbelt, tongue lolling in excitement over going for a ride.
The house I’d grown up in had been sold years ago, my parents cutting any ties to the island other than my grandparents. After some storm damage, the new owners had expanded the porch and changed the color to a pink that bore a little too much resemblance to flamingos for my taste. But I could still see the window I’d slipped out of and where the vine-covered trellis I’d climbed down had once been. Sawyer had been waiting two houses down, in that old rattle-trap truck of his, lights off. We paused there in the dying light of sunset.
“I always used to think of you as Rapunzel sneaking out of your tower,” he murmured.
My lips curved. “I confess, I kinda had some Romeo and Juliet fantasies going on, wishing you’d climb up the trellis to my room.”
“Not sure it would have held me, even back then. And I’m damned sure Jace wouldn’t have been as supportive then as he is now.”
“My fantasies about you were a lot more chaste back then.”
He cut me a glance. “Are you having delightfully sexy thoughts about me, wife?”
I tangled my fingers with his. “Let’s just say that I might have a few roleplay scenarios in mind for after we get through all this.”
“Something to look forward to.” Pressing a kiss to the back of my hand, he pulled away from the curb.
From there, the drive to Osprey Beach only took about fifteen minutes. He drove the same route he had that night, weaving through residential streets that gave way to the trees, past the park and beyond to the crushed-shell back road that wound its way to the Atlantic side of Hatterwick. He parked beneath the same trees, though the area was more overgrown than it had been then. We slipped out of the truck into the hush of greenery, but even from here, the ocean called. I curled my hand around his, and we followed, Roy dashing a few feet ahead.
It felt different approaching this together. As we walked, I scanned the beach, remembering. “There were so many people here that night. It seemed like more than all of Sutter’s Ferry High.”
“It probably was. There were already summer people on-island at that point. You didn’t go through the crowd.”
“No, I edged around them.” Too overwhelmed to dive straight into the deep end, cutting through the crowd.
We followed the skirting path I’d taken.
“I thought for sure you’d decide you wanted to go in ten minutes.”
“I considered it. Then I found Gabi and Gwen and made friends with the dog. Looking back, I don’t even know whose dog it was. I didn’t recognize her.”
“She looked a lot like Keeley. Some kind of shepherd mix.”
As if we’d summoned her, Keeley spotted Roy from across the beach and made a beeline in our direction. Roy whined and danced, looking back at me for permission.
“Go see your buddy.”
With a joyful bark, he took off, a streak of black in the darkening night. Sawyer and I continued at a more sedate pace toward the waiting fire. It was much smaller than the one from back then, but it still gave the ambiance. Daniel, Gabi, and Bree waited at a nearby picnic table. Low strains of music carried on the breeze.
“Doing okay?” Sawyer asked.
“So far, so good. I’m anxious, but it’s more anticipatory than active, if that makes sense.”
“Absolutely.”
We weren’t the only people on the beach, despite the distant clouds. Had any of them been here that night? Did any of them know how momentous it was that I was even standing here? Was someone out there, even now, watching me, waiting to see what I’d do?
I tried not to think about that as we roasted our hot dogs and talked. Maybe I didn’t talk much, but that wasn’t unusual at social gatherings. I let everyone else carry the conversation as I soaked up the atmosphere and waited for some kind of sign that this was working. With nary a flicker, I grabbed a ball and moved to the edge of the water with the dogs, falling into the easy, familiar rhythm of fetch. I could still hear music from the little Bluetooth speaker Bree had brought. Sawyer was at the picnic table, watching me. All of them were, though they tried not to be obvious about it. I didn’t blame them. After what had happened last time, no doubt everyone was braced for me to lose my shit.
By the time full dark had fallen, I hadn’t remembered anything. I didn’t have any clear memory of leaving the beach with or without Gwen, but objectively, I knew I had at some point. How else would I have been so far north when Sawyer found me? So I trotted back to the group at the table, draping my arms flirtatiously around his shoulders.
“Time for a post-dinner walk.”
At their expectant looks, I shook my head.
“We’ll be back,” Sawyer announced.
Hand in hand, we trudged down the beach, keeping close to the waterline, where the sand was firmer. Despite the medication, I could feel my body trying to react. The edge of a headache was working its way up my temples. Though I had no clear memory, I tried to focus on those physical sensations, using them as a compass and turning toward them. I pulled us away from the water and into the woods.
“Do you remember coming this way?”
“No.” But something in my gut told me to keep going.
The canopy of trees blocked out the waning moon, so we were making our way by cell phone flashlights.
“Is this a good idea? I have a better light in my truck.”
“I wouldn’t have had a better light back then. Just something like this.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. I knew somewhere behind us, Gabi, Daniel, and Bree were following. I could just barely hear the signs of their passage, and only because I knew following us was the plan. If someone had followed me that night, would I have noticed? The wind from the incoming storm would’ve blocked out any obvious sounds of movement beyond our own. Someone could’ve gotten the drop on me. On us? To what end? I didn’t know.
We walked and walked, until I caught a hint of movement ahead. Shining the light, I saw the fluttering remains of crime scene tape. We’d made it all the way to where I’d stumbled upon Joe Anderson’s remains. And there’d been nothing.
I’d faced my fear directly, and it wasn’t some magic key that unlocked everything and brought those missing memories instantly into focus. As ever, my mind was a blank wall.
The headache was stronger now, but not unmanageable. Turning away from the crime scene, I pushed my way out of the woods and back onto the beach. The storm was nearly on us now, with clouds building above the island. The tide was rougher. I could almost feel the roll of it beneath my feet and swayed.
Sawyer’s arm came around me in an instant. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m… fine. I mean, not fine. I can still feel something. But I still can’t remember anything. There’s no flashback. No hallucination.”
His gaze turned out toward the ocean, where the swells already pulsed with the energy of the oncoming storm, but it was nothing to the crash and snarl of wind and water from that night.
“I was just about to turn back, to try searching somewhere else, when I heard you. At least, I thought it was you.” Sawyer’s voice was low enough I barely heard it over the wind.
“I heard something and turned around just fast enough to see you going under.” His shoulders went rigid, and his throat worked. “It was a fucking miracle I even spotted you. No one should’ve been on the water in that storm, let alone in it. Especially not here, with the riptides.”
“I knew about those riptides. I wouldn’t have just… jumped in on a whim.” I’d always known that, even when the popular theory that I’d gone in to rescue a dog had taken root. I stared out at the frothing waves. “I don’t know how I got there. And I don’t know how you managed to get me out.”
His voice went to gravel. “I almost didn’t. I took a monumental gamble, calculating what I knew of the tides and swimming toward where I thought you’d be, rather than where you went under.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and I wondered what he saw. What he remembered.
“You were so pale, so still, when I dragged you out. And I couldn’t find a pulse. You were dead.” He whispered the words, but the truth of them hit me like a shout.
I turned into him, tightening my arms around his waist. “But you saved me. I’m right here because you didn’t give up on me.”
“I’ve never been more scared in my entire life than when I started CPR. I don’t even remember all the deals I made with the Almighty if only you’d live. Then you started coughing.”
He pulled me closer and buried his face in my hair, and I finally did have a memory of him doing exactly this that night. I held on tighter, understanding that, in this moment, I was the one grounding him.
“I didn’t want to let you go.”
“You don’t have to. Not ever again. I’m right here.” I stroked his back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Then and now. I didn’t know what I was asking of you, coming back here like this.”
We stood like that for a long time as the wind kicked up around us, a preview of the storm to come, until a voice called out.
“Not to break up whatever li’l moment y’all are having, but this rain’s about to cut loose, and I expect we ought to get back to clean up our stuff.”
Daniel.
He and the girls emerged from the trees.
“Any luck?” Bree called.
My shoulders slumped as I was forced to admit the truth. “Nothing. I think we’ve gotta call this a bust.”