“And now,” he said. “All these overdoses. Why don’t you still go to the grief group on Tuesday nights? That’s what so many of the other parents are doing.” He picked up his phone and checked the time. Brushing her off again. He was right, though. It was probably getting close to leaving time if they were going to get decent seats in the gym. He needed to go get his shirt and pin on.
“It wasn’t helping.” Lauren answered his question anyway.
“What?”
“The group. It wasn’t helping.”
“Maybe give it another try?”
She looked down at her hands again, squeezed her hidden fist so tightly she could feel her nails biting into her flesh. There was no usein explaining any of her ideas to him. She could tell his mind was on the gym. He could probably already feel the pulse of the crowds in the bleachers, hear the honor song of the drums for the seniors, see the red Flathead Nation flag on the brick wall with its crossbow, white feathers, and tepee. What was she thinking, bringing this up now?
Yeah, he was right. She didn’t need his approval, anyway. It was one tiny thing she could try, and like he said, things were worth attempting. It wasn’t like she was moving mountains. She was simply going to find out a little more about this exposure idea.
And the birds. They were flying in unison today.
A Confession
Instagram: @Simone.Murray3—I worked at an assisted living facility in Strongsville, OH. I didn’t mean to let this one old woman lay there in her own urine until she got bedsores. I couldn’t deal with her moaning. Her daughter used to get so angry at the facility. At me. One bad night, I didn’t check on her at all, and when her daughter came to visit the next a.m., I finally went in. She had passed. I would like to apologize to the family that I didn’t help more, that I wasn’t kinder. I should never have taken a job in this facility. I’m not cut out for that kind of work. I really am a compassionate person. Let me know if this is enough, please! I don’t know what you want!
Chapter 46
Last Day
All-too-lucid dreams plague me during my restless few hours of sleep.
The boa Sophie described to me that night out in the woods pursues me, burrowing through a hole in my mattress, spooling its long, thick muscles around me. I’m paralyzed, unable to breathe or move.
Something trills in the distance. I want to shake loose and get to it, but I can’t. The snake has me pinned. The sound sharpens, closer to my head. The reptile hisses in my ear, prepares to swallow me whole. Finally, through whatever magic the chime possesses, the serpent pops free.
I look frantically around. I’m in my bedroom. The ceiling fan comes into focus. The ring occurs beside me.
“Did I wake you?” Alderson asks.
“Yes,” I say, rubbing my eyes, still thick with sleep.
My thoughts rush to wounded Zane. Andy. Just a kid. Andy Zane. I look at my hands to see if there’s still blood.
“Can you come to the station?”
I squint at the time. It’s seven. I’ve slept three hours. Still wired after coming home from the hospital, I searched online. I found the apartment where Vivian Petronis lives between Kalispell and Whitefish. My plan is to find her today. My eyes sting with exhaustion.
“Why?”
“Remember the guy we told you about who registered a ton of activity tracking you here locally?”
“Sure.”
“We looked into his followers.”
“And?”
“One guy who commented on a number of the guy’s posts has a bunch of photos of himself on social media, and he has a tattoo of an upside-downRon his forearm. His name?”
“Yeah?”
“Aaron Lasserio.”
At the county building in Kalispell, I sign my name at reception, step through the metal detector, and collect my bag on the other side. Greene greets me with her usual serious expression. She should give lessons in inscrutability to an aloof cat.
