Delaying the inevitable, I took far too much time setting upmy cameras, one for a timelapse of the sunset, and the other to snap shots as I felt like it. Once that was taken care of, I spread out a blanket I’d stolen from Finn’s linen closet and dropped onto it.
I dragged the box to my side but didn’t open it and withdraw the first stack of pages right away. Instead, I stared out at the horizon, allowing it to soothe me. I highly doubted I’d find anything in the journals that would shock me or turn the tide of the investigation into Lainey’s disappearance, but I knew I needed to rip this bandage off.
At last, I lifted the lid and pulled out the bundle representing Lainey’s first journal.
The one I got her for that first birthday after Mom and Dad died.
Was I ready to confront those demons?
Never.
But I didn’t have a choice.
Inhaling deeply and willing myself to remain calm, I dropped my eyes to the first page.
Dear diary…
It seems so silly to write that. I’m a 23-year-old woman, not a teenager spilling her inconsequential high school dramas onto these pages. Though, at the time, those high school dramas sure felt awfully big and insurmountable, didn’t they? Given what I’ve endured since, I’d give anything to go back…
My eyes blurred with tears almost instantly, some of them dropping free and splashing onto the pages.
Our parents’ deaths had hit both of us hard. For me, the survivor’s guilt was downright debilitating the first few monthsafterward. There had been days when I wished I’d died with them, simply so I wouldn’t have to endure the unending agony of living without them—of remembering their final words and breaths.
While Lainey and I had talked at length about how we were feeling in those days, and had done our best to talk about the good times with Mom and Dad in an effort to keep their memories alive, I supposed I never stopped to consider what it had been like for her. For the first time, I’d experienced something she couldn’t begin to understand. She’d been grieving for them, but also forme. Struggling with how to help me, while also recognizing the only way out was through.
Hours passed in a blink, my eyes and mind eating up the words faster than I could turn the pages.
Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t anything I didn’t already know, but I found myself reliving certain moments through Lainey’s eyes. Laughing at her commentary on the morning after a lost night in which we drank too much tequila and danced on the bar at our local dive. Remembering the trips we’d taken in the early days of Twin Flames.
The bad days had been rock bottom, a black pit I wasn’t sure we’d ever claw our way out of.
But being reminded of the good days showed me that wehad. And they were a good reminder that we still had each other.
At least, I hoped that was the case.
Lainey’s journals were surprisingly stingy on the details of our time in Dusk Valley, only a few pages in recap of our hikes and the photos she couldn’t wait to develop.
Mentions of the guy she’d slept with didn’t begin until a few weeks after our return.
He messaged me again. I keep blocking his number, and he just keeps getting new ones. I’ve considered changing mine, but I refuse to lethim win. I know I need to tell Reagan what’s going on, but I don’t think I could stand to see that “I told you so” look in her eyes…
“Oh, Lainey…”
I never would’ve judged her for that—which she learned when she did finally tell me. After all, I wasn’t a saint and had participated in a hook up of my own that night.
But what I’d never understood is why she didn’t tell me the guy’s name. Why hadn’t she given me some sort of identifying information to use in case he ever showed up—or that I could pass on to the police if she ever went missing?
Then again, this kind of escalation had never been on our radar. We thought that, because we lived across the country, we were safe.
I wondered, what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten sick? If I’d been the one to come back to Dusk Valley? Would he have taken me? Lainey and I were twins, after all, and this guy had fixated on me since I’d arrived in town.
Once I’d gotten through those first months’ worth of entries and past our return from Dusk Valley, I began scanning, knowing I didn’t have time to read them all cover to cover. I looked for any mentions of names I didn’t recognize or secrets she hadn’t shared with me.
So intent on searching for information that stuck out, I nearly missed it.
The entry was dated three days before Lainey left for Dusk Valley, when we both realized I would be too sick to make the trip as originally planned.
I have to go back to Dusk Valley. It’s not Reagan’s fault. Shitty timing for her to catch the flu, but it’s not like she did it intentionally. I am equal parts terrified and excited to return to Idaho. Excited,because I’ve really honed my craft in the last seven years, and I am excited to shoot the landscape using my new skills. I love meeting new people, so I’m really looking forward to working with the Wallis family.
