Chapter 2
LEAH
I added ‘house doesn't smell musty’ to the short list of things I half-expected but was wrong about. I should have known, from the state of the outside of the house, that the inside would be well-maintained.
There weren't any personal items in the living room. Nothing to indicate the personalities of those who used to live here. The couch under the window was positioned precisely, as were a pair of armchairs. All of them sat within reach of mismatched tables, one coffee table and two side tables.
The place was cozy. Familiar, but not pinging direct memories in my brain.
Not really. Just… Something about gingerbread.
And a Christmas tree in the corner beside the wood stove, but that was all.
I could have seen that in a photo. After all, it was the best place for it, as if the layout was designed for just that purpose.
If Santa had a cottage, it might look like this.
I moved past the small kitchen that smelled like lemon, and into the room at the back of the house. The room, I couldn't help noticing, that was in almost the same position as my bedroom in my rental. At the rear of the building, with the best view of nature outside the window.
"This one was—" Josiah started.
"Coral's room," I finished before he could.
The lavender walls were almost obscured by shelves full of plush toys and books.
A purple plastic chain hung from the ceiling beside the bed, with more plush animals dangling from clips the entire length to the floor.
Curtains that draped to either side of the window were darker purple and covered in unicorns.
I took in all of that in a moment before my gaze dropped to the bed. The covers were purple and blue, with accents in pink and yellow. Right in the middle lay a teddy bear. A rainbow teddy bear.
My breath caught in the back of my throat. "Ms Sparkle." I reached out a hand, but Josiah caught my wrist before I could touch the plush bear.
"Don't. You've seen what you came to see, it's time you left." His fingers were almost tight enough to bruise my skin.
"Gavin didn't change anything," I whispered. "It's been exactly like this since the day Coral…"
"Died," Josiah said bluntly. "You can say it. Everyone else does."
"Except you." I pulled my hand back until he let go of my wrist. "You don't believe she died."
He was silent for a moment before he said, "It doesn't matter what I believe. It's not going to bring her back."
"That's why you took care of everything," I said. "Because you don't believe that either. You did this because you're sure she'll come back some day. You wanted all of this ready for her."
He averted his gaze, but scoffed. "That's fucking ridiculous.
This is a kid's room. It should have been cleaned out years ago.
I'll get some boxes. Throw all of this in the trash.
Gavin doesn't want it." He stepped toward the door as though he was about to do just that.
Toss everything in boxes and throw it away. Finally put Coral's memory to rest.
"If it was so important, you would have done it a long time ago," I said. "I don't believe it. You think she's still alive and she's going to come back for her things. Because seeing them the way they were might help her cope with whatever happened."
That or this was a sad shrine to a dead kid.
"You're a therapist now?" he snapped. "Don't feel sorry for me and don't analyse me."
"What happened that day?" I trailed my finger down the chain of plush animals, stopping to stroke the fur of a white plush cat.
Here and there were patches of other colours.
Paint, as far as I could tell. The cat must have sat beside Coral while she did some artwork.
Or maybe the paint was on there on purpose, as her own kind of decoration.
There did seem to be a pattern to the appearance.
A series of small dots across and down its back.
He bristled. "Why do you give a shit?"
I looked over to him, into his brown eyes. "Because someone has to. They said you believe someone took her." Connor and Riley told me he'd claimed he ran after them, but couldn't keep up. That he'd been telling that story for twenty years, and no one would listen.
Josiah closed his eyes and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah. She was playing outside and I was raking leaves. Keeping an eye on her." That seemed important to him. Like he wanted me to make a note of that particular detail.
I nodded that I understood and gestured for him to continue.
His eyes glazed as he thought back. "A car pulled up. A man, maybe two. They grabbed her, put her in the back of the car and…drove away. It was so fucking quick. I ran after them, shouted at them to stop. They didn't fucking stop." He cleared his throat and shrugged. "That was it."
"Then what happened?" I asked. "You must have told someone." Imagining what kid-Josiah saw made my heart hurt. Seeing something like that and being unable to stop it must have been a special kind of hell. A thing like that would haunt a person for the rest of their lives.
And Coral? I felt her fear as she was grabbed from her home, locked away in a vehicle and stolen. She must have cried. Must have curled up on the seat, wanting nothing more than to be taken back to her father. To her life.
"I told my dad." Josiah’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
"He told me to stay out of it and not say anything.
They'd sort it out. Next thing I knew, everyone was saying she fell into the creek and drowned.
I kept trying to tell them that was not what happened.
But they decided, and hell if they'd change their minds. "
If his jaw was any stiffer, it might shatter. His fury was barely contained, even after all these years. It would have hurt like hell, insisting he saw what he saw, only to be dismissed.
"Did your father believe you?" I asked.
"My father wouldn't talk about it," he said slowly. "Every time I tried to bring it up, he got mad."
"So you stopped bringing it up," I said. That was understandable. Kids could be resilient, but a person could only take being shot down so many times before they stopped putting themselves out there. Especially when it was your own parent who didn't want to know.
Josiah sat down on the end of the bed. He picked up the rainbow bear and straightened the front of her little dress. The gesture was touching, almost sweet, especially given he was dressed from head to toe in black. The rainbow teddy bear was a stark contrast to the badass image he tried to convey.
"Yeah, I stopped. No one believed a word I said. Fucking no one." He didn't bother to try to hide his bitterness.
I sat down beside him. "I believe you."
He snorted softly. "Why would you? Maybe I'm making it all up.
Has it crossed your mind I might have thrown her into the creek?
You know what they say about us loners. We're probably serial killers or some shit.
For all you know, I murdered my parents and you're next.
" He raised his stubbled chin, as if daring me to deny the suggestion.
"You're not going to murder me," I said. "Believe it or not, sitting there with a rainbow teddy bear in your lap says to me you're not as unhinged as you want me to think."
"I might be more unhinged." He glanced over at me and hesitated before offering me the teddy bear. "Ring any bells?"
His expression was tentative, like he wasn't sure if he should even let me touch the bear, much less hold her.
Like somehow the plush animal was a sacred object that shouldn't be defiled by a mere mortal like me.
But there was more to it than that. He hadn't had anyone to share any of this with for far too long.
He wasn't sure if he could trust me, but he needed someone to confide in.
To finally have someone understand what he'd been going through all this time.
To really listen instead of yelling at him to go away.
In some ways, this was important to both of us. Even if the truth was painful, he needed to be talked about. To finally be aired and put to rest.
I took the bear and ran a hand over the top of her head and her soft ears.
Brought her to my nose and inhaled the faded rose scent that lingered on her.
Something about that scent smelled like home.
Like a comfortable place I hadn't been in so long.
Somewhere I was loved and cherished. Not ignored and treated like a burden, or the clichéd redheaded stepchild. I wasn't even a redhead.
"When I first got up here, I thought…" I wasn't sure if I could put my thoughts into coherent words.
"You thought you'd get down on your knees and suck me off?" he said lightly.
I elbowed him. "I'm sorry to say that wasn't what crossed my mind."
"There's still time." He cocked his head at me. "Okay, I shouldn't ask, but what did you think?"
"You'll think I'm losing my mind," I said. "You'll probably ring up…whoever it is that takes away crazy people around here." I flapped a hand vaguely towards the door. As if a flood of people was going to come and drag me away for my own safety and that of the rest of the world.
"If there was such a person, they would have taken me away a long time ago," he said with a smirk. "Serial killer, remember?"
"You're not a serial killer," I told him.
A loner, yes, but not a murderer. I was safe here with him.
For some reason I couldn't put my finger on, I trusted Josiah Lachance.
It wasn't only because pretty much everyone in town told me to stay away from him.
I was drawn to him the same way as I was drawn to Aurora Hollow. He had secrets I want to uncover.
Secrets I might be a part of.
I took a long, slow breath, inhaling more of the scent of Ms Sparkle. Something about her made me feel brave. Like one small teddy bear could comfort me enough to get through the next few minutes.
Finally I said, "I believe what you said about Coral. That someone took her.” I let the words sink into his mind and into my own. Allowing the implications to become thoughts. “That means there's a chance she's still alive."
"Depending on what they wanted with her," he said, his voice a low whisper.
"They might have…" He swallowed hard, like he was trying to stop himself from being sick.
That thought must have crossed his mind too many times in the last twenty years.
In some ways, thinking she was dead might have been more merciful.
"Right," I said quickly. "They might have. But the possibility is there. What if she is alive? What if she returned to Aurora Hollow because the place was calling to her?"
He squinted at me. Froze with his expression like that. "What are you saying?"
"When I first got up here and got out of my car, it hit me," I whispered. "I've been here before. Because I used to live here. My early years are a blank, but I know this place."
"Fuck." He stood and paced to the door and back again. "You think you're…"
"I don't think… I don't know…" I shook my head. "Do you think it's possible that I could be her? Could I be Coral Clarke?"