“I wish I could say the same,” Hadley admitted, surprising even herself. “I hated everyone and everything. For years, I couldn't even look at our family photos without feeling sick. I blamed you for what happened to me in that courtroom. I blamed Mom for the way she stared at me afterward, like I'dbetrayed her, too. Yet she was the one who allowed Chief Garber and the prosecutor to force me to relive that night over and over until I couldn’t remember what was real and what they’d suggested to me. I resented her for letting that happen to me. I hated her so much that I never spoke a word to her after I left town. She died alone, Mason. I let her die alone, and I despise myself for not giving a damn, either.”
Hadley had revealed way too much.
The words hung between them, but he didn’t seem to take offense.
“We got the short end of the stick when it came to parents.” Mason shrugged, his acceptance of their roles in life obvious. “You came out the other end. Be grateful for that.”
Hadley spent years constructing a version of her brother who was angry, impulsive, and capable of violence. The man before her matched none of those formations. If anything, all she could conceive from his body language was defeat.
He’d given up, and he’d accepted his fate.
“Mason, I—” Hadley stopped, needing time to compose herself. She'd spent so long convincing herself of his guilt that the possibility of his innocence was like standing on the edge of a cliff. One misstep and everything she'd built her life upon would collapse. But sitting in this chair meant that she’d already fallen. Unfortunately, movement from the guard in the corner suggested she was running out of time to explain herself. “I think someone has been abducting young women in Whistlerun since 1978. And I think Emily might have been one of them.”
Mason's gaze locked with hers, unwavering in their intensity. He remained silent, which meant it was her turn to give him a few moments to come to terms with her change of heart.
“I need to know if there was anything left out of the court transcripts,” Hadley said, holding up a hand to the guard. He was well aware that she wasn’t merely visiting family. She’dmade sure that those at the prison understood this meeting was official business by the State Police. “Did Emily ever tell you that she was afraid? Did she mention anyone following her or maybe someone paying a little too much attention to her?”
Mason's expression remained unchanged, but something flickered in his eyes.
Not surprise, though.
Maybe confirmation?
Mason leaned back in his chair, the sound of the metal frame creaking slightly traveling through the receiver. His eyes took on a distant quality as he shook his head slowly.
“No, Emily never mentioned anyone following her or making her uncomfortable." Mason drew a deep breath, his chest expanding against the faded fabric of his prison uniform. “I'd been saving up from yard work all summer just to make sure I had enough money for the festival.”
Mason’s voice was somewhat monotone as he recounted the past.
Hadley was strangely grateful that he was able to shut his emotions off in such a manner.
“I wanted to make sure she had fun that night. She was waiting to hear back from Clemson University. If she had been accepted, that festival would have been her last until after she graduated.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I had enough money for tickets, games, food—the works. Emily loved those cherry slushies. She always got brain freeze because she'd drink it too fast, but she didn’t care.”
A memory materialized for Hadley of Emily’s bright red lips. She’d press her thumb against the roof of her mouth when the cold hit too hard, laughing afterward. Mason had taken them both to the convenience store one day, and he’d treated them both to cherry slushies. The happy memory was both foreign and achingly familiar, like finding photographs in a forgotten box.
“I arranged for you to stay with Lisa Wheeler since Mom was working the late shift at the diner. I didn't want you home alone, and I knew you'd have more fun with Debbie Wheeler, even though she was a couple of years older than you.”
The care in that simple detail struck Hadley unexpectedly, and she pressed her lips tightly together in repressed anger. Even at eighteen, preparing for a date with his girlfriend, Mason had made arrangements for his little sister. Not her mother, but her brother.
“I saw Emily's initials carved in Gleason's barn,” Hadley said, noticing the guard’s impatience. “But not yours.”
“Mom was late for her shift, and she didn’t have time to drop you off. I picked Emily up after the group had already been to Old Man Gleason’s barn.”
Another memory came to the forefront—Mason checking that her overnight bag had everything she needed. She'd been annoyed by his hovering, eager for him to take her to Debbie’s house.
“We spent hours playing games, riding the rides, and eating way too much cotton candy. We met up with everyone around ten that night.”
“And it was Sam who dared everyone to walk through the Cox’s cornfields?”
“Yeah,” Mason replied, his gaze unfocused as if he were watching a slideshow of his past. “Sam had hit the moonshine a little too hard. He said theThreshing Manwould be out that night for sure, with the moon being so full. It was stupid teenager stuff, you know?”
“But you all went along with the idea.” Hadley was more in control of her emotions now that they weren’t focused on their own emotional trauma. “Seven of you.”
“To start with, yes. But we had to walk through the patch of woods. Before we could enter, Lori and Nicole backed out. Sam,Jerry, and Billy all ran ahead.” This part of the story had never been clear, because the police had focused solely on Mason and Emily once they had established the others hadn’t witnessed a thing. “I told Emily that we should just let them have their fun. It was getting really dark, and you know how Mr. Cox can get about his property. But Emily was fearless. She wanted to see if there was anything to the legend, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop her.”
“What happened then?” Hadley asked, though she’d already memorized his version of events. “And don’t leave out a single detail, Mason.”
“We'd gone maybe a hundred yards in when we realized that Sam and the others were too far ahead of us to catch up to." Mason's voice grew rough around the edges, the memory clearly causing physical discomfort even after so many years. “Emily tugged on my hand—‘Come on! I don’t want to miss anything’—before she bolted ahead. When I told the police how upset I’d been that she’d run off like that, nothing else mattered.”
