Chapter 22
ROWAN
When I hear the soft crack of something walking in my direction, I close my eyes, quickly ranking the order of which animals I most and least want to be found by.
Honestly, a bear wouldn’t be so bad. They’re not carnivores, and I can’t really see one attacking me without me being a threat in some way. If the thing walking by is a bear, it will likely just keep going.
But if it’s a coyote, or some sort of cat — a mountain lion or cougar — it’s not going to be pretty.
Even worse might be something small. A rattlesnake. A brown recluse.
I’ve already felt plenty of critters making their way over my body under the tree, and I had to take deep breaths and hope none of them would bite, and that, if they did, it wouldn’t be that venomous.
My eyes are still shut when a shadow falls over my face, mercifully shading me from the sun, and I realize that no matter what it is, the time is up for me to think it through.
“Rowan.”
And then I open my eyes and see my sister there, standing over me. Her cheeks are flushed, her golden-brown hair tied up into a stub of a ponytail. Sweat rolls over her forehead, and she looks exactly like she always does — pissed at me.
“Oh,” I say, blinking. “I’m dead.”
“You’d better not be,” she mutters, shaking her head and moving so the sun shines right in my eyes again. I wince and raise my left hand over my eyes, listening to the crunch of her feet as she moves around the tree.
“I have to be dead,” I reason, with the apparition that definitely isn’t my sister, but probably some sort of figment of my imagination. “Because it would make no sense for you to be here.”
“Oh, really? You think you’re going to move within an hour of my town and I’m not going to figure it out. I saw Pete at the gas station, Rowan.”
“That bastard.”
“No, you’re the bastard. Telling him he can’t stop to go pee?”
“Well, I was right, wasn’t I? See what happened?”
“You were making him wear a wig? And you really thought that was going to keep anyone from recognizing him?”
“He never puts it on right,” I argue, vaguely hearing the crunch of her shoes. Now, I’m not so sure whether or not she’s real. She seems real.
And I would very much like not to be dead.
“I’m pissed at you, just so you know,” she says, appearing again in my eyesight for just a moment, before disappearing once more. “I should leave you here, stuck, as a punishment for disappearing off the face of the earth. You bitch.”
“Hey.” I cough, shaking my head. “That’s not very nice. I could be dead.”
“You’re not dead,” she says, and I can make out the rough sound of her heaving, moving something heavy. “Are you in pain?”
“No.”
“Can you wiggle your hands and toes?”
“Yeah,” I say, which I know because it’s basically all I’ve been doing since the thing fell on top of me, just to make sure I still could.
“Then you’re fine. And I’m mad at you. So, so mad at you, because you know what, Rowan?
You could be dead! If this tree fell a bit to one side or the other?
” She pauses, grunting with effort, and when I lift my head, I see her appear on the other side of the trunk, where she starts the work of wedging a smaller rock in and under it.
When I feel some of the pressure lift off my arm, I sigh in relief. I never fully lost feeling, but it was like a hug that’s a little too tight. Constrictive and uncomfortable, but not causing bodily harm. Yet.
Belle returns, helping me to wriggle out of my little hole. I’m covered in dirt and sap, pine needles. When I turn around, Belle is standing there, glaring at me.
“You—” she starts, but I step forward, throwing my arms around her, breathing her in. She’s right. That could have been a lot worse than it was.
For a second, she stiffens, seeming to want to hold onto her rage, but then she loosens up and puts her arms around me, giving in. It seems to hit her at this moment that this whole situation could have been really bad — maybe she had been running on adrenaline to get me out quickly.
“Okay, okay,” she says, clearing her throat, rubbing at her face. “Now, we need to get home. Cheese is starving, and I couldn’t find her food.”
I came out early this morning, and the sun is only setting now. Some people have gone through things much worse than this — been stuck for much longer — but I feel like something has shifted inside me.
We start walking in the direction of my cabin, and I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if Belle hadn’t come across me; if she hadn’t seen Pete and beaten the truth out of him.
Honestly, I don’t even blame him. My sister is terrifying when she’s mad, which is evident in the way she so quickly figured out how to get me un-trapped.
Cheese is all over me, frantic and licking, when we open the door.
I head off to the bathroom, stepping into the shower, where the hot water does little to ease the tension from my muscles.
By the time I get out, wearing a fresh pair of sweatpants and a clean T-shirt, I’m feeling more like my old self.
Which means when I find Belle in the living room, I don’t give in to what she wants.
“Rowan. Be reasonable.” She’s let her hair down from the hair tie, and she’s scrubbing her hands through it, her eyes tired.
In fact, everything about my sister looks a little tired. Bags under her eyes that weren’t there before. And her body looks a little softer.
It’s been almost five years since I saw her last. Since I left in the middle of the night and said nothing to her about it. Her anger is justified.
But so were my actions.
“You have to go to the doctor,” she says, tilting her head in a way that reminds me of our mother.
“I feel fine,” I counter, taking a seat in the living room. Not relaxed, but not towering over her, either. I know the height difference between us is only going to make her angrier. “And you know the risks of me going to the doctor.”
“Rowan.” Belle circles around in front of me, putting her hands on her hips. “This is a non-negotiable.”
She’s wearing a pair of jean shorts — which are dusty, likely from her hike out to find me — and an old T-shirt from the high school we both attended.
When our parents died, Belle took over as both parents for me, and I’ll always be grateful to her for that. But at a certain point, just like real parents would, she’ll have to realize she can’t tell me what to do anymore.
“Unless you’re willing to knock me out and kidnap me, Belle, I’m not going.”
“Ugh!” She lets out a strangled scream, tipping her face up to the ceiling for a moment, then running her hands over her face before she looks back at me. “Why do you have to be so frustrating? It’s simple, Rowan — a tree falls on you, you go to the doctor. Just to make sure.”
“I’m well aware of emergency medical protocol, Belle.”
She gives me a look. “Right. Mr. Smarty-Pants. What if it was me? Would you let me not go to the doctor?”
“People aren’t going to recognize you, follow you, shove a camera in your face,” I counter, watching her as she paces in front of me. At least, I hope they aren’t.
The whole point of me leaving was to make sure my sister wouldn’t be in the line of fire anymore.
“Fine, that’s true,” she says, and something inside me relaxes. “But you didn’t do anything wrong, Rowan. It’s not fair that you should sacrifice your life—”
“I’m not going to put you in danger, Belle.”
“People don’t care anymore.”
“Yeah, because they couldn’t find me.”
“No, because time marches on and there are a million other scandals that are a lot more interesting than what happened with you.”
“I’m not doing it.” I say this with finality, with a tone I hope doesn’t come off as petulant, but as firm. Cheese whines and sets her head on my leg.
Belle stares at me for a long time, then shakes her head, sucking in a breath. “A lot of things have changed, Rowan. I’m pissed at you for the years you’ve wasted hiding away, but… I’m angry for you. Do you get that? You don’t need to make this sacrifice.”
“I like it here.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure you miss your fucking family. Elliot doesn’t get to win. Hannah doesn’t get to win. They got the company, they got off scot-free for all that shit, and I hope they’re choosing to live their lives differently. But if you just rot away up here, alone… I won’t watch it.”
I turn, staring at the fireplace, which is appropriate with the dropping temperatures up here.
This would be the perfect time to connect with Belle again. I can almost see exactly what it would be like to have my family back in my life. How I could make it work, especially if what she says is true and people don’t care anymore.
And then I remember the look of terror on her face when the first death threat came to her house. The way her fiancée had spoken in a hushed voice, wondering if they should install a security system.
I wouldn’t be the reason her life was upended.
“So don’t,” I say, knowing my voice is too hard, but not knowing how to change it. For her own safety, and for the sake of her life, I need to make sure Belle stays away. I’m not sure I can go through the process of finding another place to hide.
This is my home now, and I don’t want to leave it. I love it up here.
When Belle leaves, I pull up the trail cameras, watching to make sure she gets back to her car. Then, I watch the taillights disappearing into the distance for as long as I can until they blink out into nothing.