No one can hear me, and I don’t have anyone left who cares about me. Maybe Savannah and some of my parents’ friends. But family? No. My dad was estranged from his, and my mom was an only child like me. I roll onto my back, my vision blurry from the tears that pool in my eyes. The clouds pass by in the clear blue skies above, and on any other day, I would enjoy the perfect weather,but not today. A storm rages in my heart, threatening to burst with anger and sadness. Most of all, those feelings combat each other because I know I never got to say goodbye. I never got to hear my mom’s voice one last time, and for her to tell me what caused her such sadness during our previous conversation. I thought I could just ask her the next time I saw her. But that chance never came, and now everything remains a mystery. The broken mirror and perfume bottle, her signature scent, are forever tainted by the destruction I walked into in their shared bathroom. I’ll never know the absolute truth.
I stand, pick up the fresh flowers I brought to their grave site, and place them on the mound near the top. When asked what I wanted to have etched onto their headstone, words escaped me. A forever reminder of the day they left the world and, most importantly, when they left me. They left me utterly alone. When the ground settles, I will return and have a proper headstone placed as a memorial of their life. Until then, I’ll continue with my summer plans, minus my parents, and go to the lake house one last time this summer.
I’m walking back to my car when I hear my phone ringing. Opening the door quickly, I reach over to the front passenger seat. “Shit,” I mutter as I reach into my tote and pull out my phone from the side pocket in a hurry before they hang up, and almost drop it in the process. “Hello?” I say as I start the car engine, and the phone automatically switches to Bluetooth as I place it down.
“Hello, Ms. Kennedy?” I glance down at the wireless charger that cradles my phone. Hm. It’s the police department. I sit there and place the car back in park.
“Yes. This is Nadia Kennedy speaking.” I reply hesitantly while waiting for the person on the other end to speak. Silently pleading up at the sky above not to receive any more earth-shattering news, I also remain hopeful about receiving some closure. Maybe they will have something else to report as to what caused my parents’ deaths and about the person involved in causing the accident.
“This is Officer Stanley.” Without pause, he gets straight to the point. “Do you think you can come down to the station?” His deep, baritone voice lacks any emotion. “I have some information thatI’d like to share with you.” I gulp the bile down, which threatens to erupt from my churning stomach. “Ms. Kennedy?” he asks, and I nod even though I know he can’t see me.
“Yes,” I manage to say, clearing my throat and looking in the direction I just walked from mere moments ago. “Yes, I can come now.”
“Great,” he replies. “See you soon.” Disconnecting from the call, I continue to look over at my parents’ grave, hoping that this will provide some insight into what happened, who was responsible for their untimely death, and my undoing. Without thinking, I dial the only person I have left who loves me—her name, my SOS.
By the timeI arrive at the police station, I am a nervous ball of energy. I called Savannah, and without hesitation, she promised to meet me here to provide some level of emotional stability that I currently lack. I walk through the police station door, and Savannah is already there waiting for me. When she sees me approach, she stops biting her nails and rushes over to wrap me up in a tight embrace.
“You beat me here,” I say rhetorically, but the meaning is clear, and I feel relief. She’s silent, but her presence is more than words could ever convey. She nods, letting me go, pivoting over to walk toward the desk, where a female officer sits with her eyes locked on the computer screen in front of her.
Savannah stares at me. “Of course!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up. Like she can’t believe I said that. “I will always come when you need me. That’s a promise, Nadia.” I want to tell her that she shouldn’t make promises she can’t keep, much like my parents, who have said similar phrases to me over the years. But because they didn’t keep theirs either, I hope that today I can gain someinsight into why that was the case. Regardless of my roller coaster of emotions, I keep myself in check.
So instead, I smile at my best friend, taking her hand in mine and squeezing it reassuringly. I drop it when we are standing before the counter, and the officer ignores us.
“Can I help you?” she eventually asks without looking up.
“Yes. I’m here to see Officer Stanley. He called and wanted me to come down to the station.” Without further question, she picks up the phone.
“Mitch,” she says informally, “I have a woman here who says you called her about wanting her to come to the station.” She removes the phone from her ear, places her hand over the receiver, finally looks my way, and spares a glance at Savannah. “What’s your name, Miss?” she asks as her fingers fly over the keyboard. The noise grates on my every nerve, and I want to scream at her to fucking stop.
“Nadia Kennedy.” I watch her return the phone to her ear and relay my name to Officer Stanley. Whatever she hears on the other line causes her to stop typing. Her eyes shoot back to mine, and I wonder what he told her.
“I’ll send her in,” she says and hangs up, hitting a button under the desk. I hear a loud click as she motions at us to proceed with her hand. “Go through that door, and he will meet you as you walk down the hall.”
I nod. “Thank you.” She smiles at me, sympathy shining in her eyes. I don’t smile back. I don’t need her second thoughts about compassion. Savannah takes my hand, and we walk through the door. It abruptly shuts, locking us in on the other side with finality.
Just as she said, Officer Stanley is heard before I see him. His shoes make a percussive, thunksound on the polished tile floor. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Ms. Kennedy.” He looks over to Savannah, and I begin the introduction I know he is waiting for.
“This is my best friend, Savannah. She is here to support me and is coming in with me.” He lifts a brow quizzically. I understand the implication of what he silently asks. “I’m okay with her hearing whatever you tell me.”
He nods once. “Okay. Then follow me, ladies.”We turn the corner of the monochromatic landscape of the police station, enveloped in varying tones of grey. He holds a door open for us and motions toward a sitting area with a small couch directly opposite his desk, along with a couple of upholstered, straight-backed chairs. All that is lacking is just a tray of Prozac pills to help aid in the depression that this place evokes. We take our seats, and rather than proceeding to his desk to sit, he plucks a folder from the desktop and drops himself down onto one of the armchairs next to us. His position on the seat comes across as intimate. My spine stiffens at his actions. His body mechanics quickly place me at unease, and I know that whatever he tells me will be bad.
I gulp loudly, and Savannah reaches for my hand, clutching it in support. Officer Stanley clears his throat. “We did some investigating after you told us something had upset your mom.” He pauses, opens the chart, and slides his hand inside, holding its place but not yet disclosing what is inside the dossier. “We did find out something that could have been the reason as to why your parents were fighting.” He withdraws a single sheet of paper and places it before me. “Your father was having an affair.”
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. I shake my head. “No, that’s not possible. My parents loved each other. He would never do that.”
Savannah bristles beside me. “So much for subtlety,” she mumbles angrily under her breath.
Officer Stanley pretends not to hear her and continues his verbal diarrhea without acknowledging my outburst. “Your mom had gone to his office, and the staff heard her threatening to file for divorce and calling him names regarding his bouts of infidelity.” After hearing such shocking news, I bite my bottom lip to stifle any sound that threatens to erupt from all my emotions. A metallic taste coats my mouth as I release it, welcoming the pain that reminds me how fluid this life is.
I don’t see how this can get any worse, but I know I will be proven wrong before he opens his mouth. The look on his face tells me everything. He points to the picture he placed on the table of a girl around my age, maybe slightly older. Her features look familiar, but I can’t place them. I stare a bit closer, looking over her face once again. Then I see it, and Savannah must jump tothe same conclusion as me, gasping. The full lips and the dimpled chin are uniquely similar to my father’s. Those facial features that are unquestionably my father’s genes. Officer Stanley sees the recognition on my face as he continues explaining his discoveries.
“She tried to contact your father—her biological father—but found your mother at the house instead. She didn’t have to tell your mom anything for her to know the truth. It’s as plain as day on her face—your father’s face.” And just like that, a cacophony of chaos erupts inside me, and emptiness replaces any love I had in my heart. The betrayal is too great.
CHAPTER FOUR
“We tried for years to have a child. I found myself so depressed, Nadia. Year after year of not being able to conceive, and then I felt your father pull away. It’s like my world was falling apart. I can’t say that I blamed him for staying away. I was miserable, and he didn’t know what to do to help me. Hell, I didn’t know how to help myself. I noticed your father took on longer hours at the office. I pulled away both physically and emotionally. You know, I thought I had a stomach bug.” Her fingers reached up to ghost over her lips. A smile forms around the outline of her hand. “And when I found out I was pregnant…” She trails off, her smile widening with joy. “I called you my miracle baby.” She giggles. “Your dad and I became closer than ever after that. Because you fixed us. You are our whole world, Nadia.” She places her pearl necklace around my neck. The one that belonged to her mother once, when she was sixteen. “Now it’s yours. Happy birthday, my love.”
I blink, and the memory is gone. This news shakes me to my core and rocks my world so off its axis that I don’t know what to believe anymore. How could two people who were so in love and shared that same love with me cause each other so much pain? How could my dad do this to my mom as she was drowning in her sadness? Maybe he felt so helpless that he found solace in another woman. Although my mom isn’t totally innocent of this, anything she could have done was negated by my father’s indiscretions, which are unforgivable to me. No condom? The worst. How could he do this to Mom? To us?
