"You saw nothing, heard nothing, and know nothing. What happened today must stay secret forever, or our family will be destroyed."
I stand frozen. Father lifts the rug onto his shoulders, walks off the patio, and heads toward the fence.
I turn to my brothers, "Go to your rooms. Now."
"But why, I don’t want to be alone," Skye says in a trembling voice.
"Then go together to Storm’s room. I don’t want you here, understood?"
With sulky faces, sniffling, dragging their feet, they go upstairs.
I step out onto the patio and stare toward the fence until I see Father and Dad heave the first body, wrapped in the rug, over it.
A moment later, the second one hits the ground with a dull thud. Bam, bam.
Neither of them speaks, which is rare for them. Dad almost always has something to say, but not this time. Between them lies a heavy, wordless understanding.
Dad goes for our SUV, drives it around the back, and together they fold the seats down and load both bodies inside. They work in sync, efficient and silent.
At one point, Father looks up and sees me standing still on the patio.
He makes one gesture, raising his index finger to his lips. That’s all.
A moment later, they drive off.
It happens just in time, because only a few minutes later, Jordan’s car rolls up the drive, bringing Sun and Rain with him.
I don’t say a word, just watch. Jordan heats up food for my brothers, chatting with them casually, as if nothing happened, as if this horror day hadn’t just unfolded. Well, I wish I could be so blissfully unaware.
When my parents come home a few hours later, they talk with Storm and Skye in their rooms.
Then they want to come and talk to me, but I’m not interested. I tell them right away I’ll keep my mouth shut and won’t question their reasons.
Dad tries to explain something, but I just shake my head, because I already know what those people must have done to him. I know, because I’ve been through it myself.
And if anyone thinks I feel even a shadow of guilt that they’re dead and that their bodies will probably never be found,well, yesterday’s Bay might’ve thought about it for a second. But not the person I am today.
Today’s me would kill a thousand more of them. And make it hurt.
Sometimes new life is born in death. Thanks to them, I’ve been reborn. Only… what am I made of now?
???
When I’m finally back in my room, I sit on the edge of my bed for a long while.
Numb. Vacantly staring at the wall.
Eventually, I reach for the drawer and take out my diary. It needs an update. I stare at the previous entry for a moment, the one about the rape.
Then, slowly, I write underneath it:
They’re dead. My dad killed them. And maybe I did too, at least I finished one of them off. How did my life shift so suddenly from being a kid to being… an adult? And not even a normal one, just a messed-up, unready kind. How am I supposed to handle this? What am I supposed to do? Who can I even talk to?
Suddenly, I think of Alex.
Maybe him…? No.
No, no, no! It's a stupid idea.
