He pauses, running his hands over his face, keeping me from seeing the emotion tearing through him.
My chest rises and falls heavily despite the ache. “Colten,” I mutter worriedly.
When his eyes find mine, my stomach sinks. “Your truck wasn’t the only car they pulled out of the river this morning. You found my mom, Taryn.”
FORTY-SIX | TARYN
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Staring out the windshield, my eyes scan the multiple chain-link fences with razor wires twisted at the top.
Colten doesn’t say anything.
The only sound between us is the air conditioning blowing in the cab; once in a while, his loud exhale penetrates the silence. Goosebumps break out over my unshaven legs from the chilly air drifting through the vents. Bending over in any capacity right now shoots pain throughout my sternum and fragile fractured ribs, so shaving my legs has been on the back burner until it’s no longer excruciating to reach my legs.
Tugging the fuzzy blanket farther up on my lap, we gaze at the prison looming before us.
He didn’t want me to come. But when I caught him sneaking out of bed early this morning, I knew something was wreaking havoc in that brain of his.
It’s a Saturday. He rarely works on Saturdays.
He assumed I was using the bathroom, but when he emerged from the closet, fully dressed, I asked him what he was doing, and he frustratedly pushed his fingers through his hair.
A few days after my accident, Jane’s body was discovered in her car, and Colten submitted a visitor’s application to the prison where his father is held. His application was approved yesterday, and he made an appointment to visit today, planning to drive the three hours there and back by himself.
Now that we’re here, I think he’s having second thoughts.
It’s been a week. A rough week.
Mourning has overtaken the house as if they had lost Jane just yesterday. Which I guess, in a way, they did. Besides Colten, they’ve always held on to some minuscule sliver of hope, thinking she was out there somewhere.
She was…just not where they expected.
Jane had never left the property.
Elena doesn’t understand and keeps asking why she can’t see Mommy. They’ve tried to sit down and explain it to her in a million ways that a five-year-old might apprehend, but she can’t grasp that even though they found her, it’s only the shell of who used to be her mother. Tristan remains quiet again, diving into his Switch to distract himself from a house plagued by the loss of Jane Lindenvale.
Cameron and Brennan have found various ways to keep themselves busy and keep the brutal truth from infesting their minds. Jessica hasn’t gone back to school yet; she reached out to her professors to let them know the circumstances, so she’s working online for another week until things are more settled than they are now.
On the other hand, my parents have been staying in their grandparents’ old place—my old rental—until they figure out where they are going next. It’s been nice to have them around. The heart-to-heart I had with my mom one night over a glass of wine on the porch while we watched Elena and Tristan throw the ball to Rossco will be one of my favorite moments with her.
Colten and the twins were showing my dad around the property at the time, but the moments alone that we’d desperately needed started turning into a plan for me to join them on a new adventure once a year. Maybe it was almost losing my life or knowing that the Lindenvale siblings lost Jane, but my mom and I mended something that was torn between us.
Time is fleeting.
Temporary.
And after all that’s happened, we both want to try harder.
I like to believe my parents have been a comforting presence when they come to the house. They don’t want to intrude, but Colten has invited them to dinner at the house multiple times. Elena loves my mom. One night, when I was tucking her into bed, she whispered that she thinks of my mom like her grandma. It warmed my heart, especially after all this fragile family has been through. But day by day, little by little, the air becomes a little less heavy.
I don’t think things will ever go back to normal. Jane Lindenvale will finally be laid to rest in a cemetery the boys picked out later this week.
But each movement is a step toward healing.
The sound of Colten swallowing draws my attention. “I don’t know what to say to him— It’s been five years.”
“I think you know exactly what to say to him; you just need to find the right way to bring it up.” He nods, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Rounding the front of the car, he strides up to my door and tugs it open. I peer into his green eyes as he softly reaches for my hand.
