Climbing up from the floor, I strip out of my clothes on the way to the bathroom, leaving them in a trail and then dump my panties in the trash before I climb into the shower and turn it on, the water rushing out ice cold before it eventually warms.For a long time, I stand beneath it, letting it run over my face as it disguises the tears that have ceased to stop since they started back at the track.
I replay it all. The cold indifference and cruelty River sent my way, the way my brother only smiled. The way they bothleftme there. My knees are busted up from where I fell, the blood crusted to my skin, leaving red trails down my shins.
I’m ashamed. I feel dirty and humiliated. How many people saw? How many listened as River admitted to using me? Are they laughing at me now? The rich girl who didn’t see it coming. A scream builds in my throat, but I don’t let it out. I let it sit there and build, like pressure in a boiling pot.
Lathering my sponge with soap I start to scrub at my skin as if I could wash away the feeling. My skin becomes red and sore the longer I do it, but I still don’t stop. This feeling of being dirty doesn’t go away.
I fear it never will.
My knees sting as I clean them, making them bleed again with how hard I’m scrubbing but I let them, and then drop the sponge so I can wash my hair. When I’m done, I switch off the shower and climb out, toweling myself dry.
The Sinclair Motors tee is laid out on my bed, and I know I should toss it, cut it up, burn it even, but when it’s in my hands I feel another fissure settle into my heart, cracking it even more. I pull the shirt on, running my hands over it before I grab a pair of shorts and slip them on beneath it.
Curling onto my side, I lay in the middle of the bed, my hair soaking my sheets and stare at the windows. I expect him to come through them, but he never does…
It’s two AM and I haven’t slept, I physically cannot even though exhaustion is tugging at my bones, it’s my mind that isn’t shutting down.
With a groan, I sit up, my face feeling tight thanks to the dried-up tears and my eyes sting. My open closet door catches my attention, and I remember the folder I stuffed inside. With weak legs I cross over to it, pulling it out.
My name is scrawled across the front, the handwriting so familiar it only adds to the pain inside of my chest. With my fingers, I trace the letters, feeling the indents on the paper from where my grandmother’s pen pressed in too hard. She always had a heavy writing hand, it used to drive my mother nuts when she could hear the pen moving on paper.
I slide a finger under the flap and open it, turning it upside down to empty the contents. Theres a folded letter, a USB drive and another unsealed envelope inside so I reach for the letter first.
My Marly,
If you’re reading this letter, it means I am no longer with you and everything in this letter that you’re about to read is something I truly wanted to tell you before I left, but there were some things in the way. I know, however, that if you have this, you’re ready to hear the secrets I took with me.
Please understand I regret the decision not to speak up and I understand I am part of the problem. I can make excuses, but I will not.
Know that if I were still alive, I’d understand if your view of me changes but know I would still love you anyway.
This is going to be hard to hear, my Marly, but you need to know. You’re a strong, bright and resilient young lady, you always have been. I asked my dear friend Calvin to look afterthis for me and to only give it to you if you were to stumble onto the South Side of West Rock. I know you so well Marly, I know what you see will hurt your heart and I know you will want to do something about it. Be stronger than me, Marly. Be better.
We all see what your father, my son, is doing to those people, he’s done it for years and he gets away with it, but he’s gone too far. He is not the boy I raised anymore, and your brother is following right along with him.
Nine months ago, there were a series of tragic fires that started on the South Side, this was deemed faulty wiring, electrical and other things I can’t recall but they were happening so often that I got concerned. When I spoke with Calvin, he was also deeply concerned, it was unusual and when they started to condemn buildings and plan demolitions a man named Logan Sinclair decided to investigate.
He found out the fires were being set intentionally.
I stop to swallow, feeling my heart pound inside of my chest. I know about the fires thanks to that dinner, but I never even thought they could be malicious. What have Liam and my father done? Did they want that side of town gone so badly they could hire someone to do this?
Marly, it was your brother setting the fires by instruction of your father.
I have evidence of this, along with evidence to show that the police and fire chiefs were paid off to make it seem that the fires were an accident, but I am afraid it gets worse.
When Logan found out, he decided to gather evidence on Liam and recorded him setting fire to a restaurant downtown. But Logan didn’t count on the Police already being aware of the fires and who was involved, and Liam found out that he had been caught.
They decided to remove the threat.
Liam murdered Logan Sinclair by trapping him in a barn and setting fire to it. There is also evidence of this, you can find it on the drive, along with the other evidence I have compiled. Logan left behind a brother and a young woman who was pregnant with his child.
River and Sadie.
I only realize I’m crying when a tear lands on the paper, instantly soaking into it and smearing the ink. I swat at them, moving the paper away so I don’t ruin it further and continue reading, blinking rapidly to keep my vision clear of water.
I am led to believe that Logan’s brother planned on bringing Liam’s crime to light and even had the evidence, but your father stopped him before he could do anything, forcing him into silence.
I know this is a lot to take in, Marly, and I know these people have been keeping these dark secrets locked up tight, but I also believe you are not like them. You never have been.
