Years later, though, the sheriff finally used the number she'd kept all along.
The sheriff instructed me to come down when I felt ready to deal with my mother's situation. She also mentioned a note my mother had written before she did what she did to herself.
The thought haunted me. My mother dying, alone, in that cold and dark house. The image, aching and haunted, wouldn’t fade.
Come home.
A hushed voice drifted in my ear, and I screamed.
The oak door creaked open, revealing a shadowy interior; I stumbled back, a cold suffocation seizing my breath, my muscles rigid with fear.
“Are you okay?” The shadow spoke, and I blinked.
It was Caiden.
I nodded, placing my hand to my chest, feeling my rapid heartbeat beneath my fingers.
“Yes. Something startled me. I’m fine,” I lied, my voice quivering like a leaf in a sudden gust. My eyes darted to the dim corners of the room, searching for some hidden threat.
He closed the distance between us in a few silent strides, brow furrowing as he studied my pale face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Amelia. And you’re shaking.”
I sank onto the edge of the unmade bed, the thin cotton sheet twisting beneath me. Wrapping my arms around myself, I felt the old ache bloom in my chest. He saw right through my act, and the exposure stung.
“I…I don’t think I’m handling my mother’s death very well,” I admitted, voice trembling. I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes.
Caiden sat beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight. His voice was gentle yet edged with grit. “There’s no right or wrong way to grieve, especially with everything you had with her. The world doesn’t stop, though we wish it would.”
I swallowed, tasting the metallic tang of tears. “How did you deal with your father dying?”
His jaw snapped shut as if I’d struck him. I winced. “Sorry,” I murmured. “That was a dumb question.”
He exhaled, a rough, humorless sound. “No…It’s fine. Months after you left, I came home to find him face-down in his own vomit. He’d drunk himself to death.” He gave a low, bitter laugh that vibrated in his chest. “I was relieved. I know how fucked up that is.”
My heart lurched. “You…you found him? I didn’t know.”
He shrugged, as though shrugging off ash. “I didn’t say. After that, I joined the military. His death broke the chains that kept me there. I’m haunted by him, but at least I’m free of his living presence.”
Freedom. The word echoed in my mind like a distant promise. Guilt, thick as tar, coiled in my veins. My mother and I had had moments of light. Sunlit laughter between storms. That memory made the pain of her absence ache.
No closure. No redo. Time flowed only forward. Like he said, life didn’t pause. I pictured myself plummeting into a cold, empty void.
She left me emotionally, then she was gone physically, and now forever.
My voice cracked. “I envy your strength, Caiden. I wish I could find freedom too.”
His hand rested on mine. Warm, steady. “You are strong, Amelia. I’ve seen you survive worse. You’ll get through this.”
Maybe it was his nearness, or my raw vulnerability. Maybe it was the need for someone who truly understood. “Could you come with me?” I blurted, eyes pleading.
He drew back, stunned. “Come with you?”
I nodded, heart pounding. “Back to our hometown. I can’t face it alone. You’re the only one who understands.”
He hesitated. “What about Sabrina?”
“She wouldn’t understand, her world’s too different. She can’t carry this.”
He fell silent for what felt like an eternity. Each second, regret gnawed at me. It was selfish, asking him to return to his own nightmares.
