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July 2009

When I returned to Devil’s Bay in the summer of 2009, I did not expect the waves of sorrow that washed over me, nor did I expect the wedding at my home.

The same bitterness that surrounded Kane’s departure returned as I stepped foot onto the dilapidated grounds. It was now the Wren Estate as I had purchased it in total after my parents’ passing.

This fact did not stop the two thorns in my side.

After leaving Archmouth two years prior, Daisy and Kane had fully moved into the East Wing of the mansion and planned an entire wedding without my permission.

We learned from my father’s will that Kane had no claim to the estate as his father had squandered their previous assets. But I relegated myself to showing kindness, after all, he did live in this house for the entirety of his life up until he left his mother and myself behind.

But there I was hosting and attending their wedding. Though, if I hadn’t returned home at that exact time, I wouldn’t have learned of Chloe’s disappearance.

Devil’s Bay had already housed a few missing person scandals during my teenage years. However, Ash and I had bypassed the curfew that followed many times and even wound up getting caught by his father.

Ash’s new reign as Sheriff was wrought with many missing women, bodies that washed along the shores…and rumors of dark ritual happenings at the Lazarus-Wren Estate. But here was no time to process all that had changed. My friends were getting married. Friends who shouldn’t be joined in any sort of union.

This wedding happened on the 15th of July.

In our part of the world it was a cool summer. And we were all together, from Cassandra Valentine to Killian Bishop and even Daisy’s affair, Dr. Arik Marlowe.

And I was there just…excluded. Even Ash had become close with Kane and associates during the two years I was completing graduate school.

The estate’s gardens were crafted into perfect hedges and colorful arrays of potted plants that bowed to the strength of the wind skating off the sea.

As Daisy’s maid of honor, which was really a joke, I insisted we move the affair into the solarium. She, of course, insisted the wind was romantic. I, of course, was always confronted with being the invisible friend who didn’t have any sway as a best friend would.

This story I’m writing now makes me understand that I’ve perpetually directed my pen towards others, and within that fact lies the most profound tragedy.

Later that night as we all filed into the ballroom, I stood at the periphery beside Ash, who was mine, but not mine. I had to tell them this wasn’t their home anymore. This was mine. My family’s belongings still lived in every room of the West Wing. I could share…or I could sell and leave this dreadful place behind.

“You alright?” Ash had leaned toward me, voice low. I wasn’t sure why he’d asked at that precise moment. He’d spent all of the early evening speaking with Kane. When did the pair ever speak? Never.

“I’m fine,” I replied.

“You’re staring,” he said.

“I’m actually observing the scenery.”

“Same thing, little bird.” He pressed a cold glass of champagne into my hands.

I rolled my eyes but the truth was I had been ruminating over Daisy’s demeanor. How had she gone from the cute young woman I met years ago to this woman who carried malice in the contours of her face.

Later, when Kane suggested photographs I begrudgingly allowed myself to be pulled into the fray. Daisy pulled me forward, positioning me right beside her. It was Kane who suggested a group photograph first, gathering several of us together near the center of the ballroom where the candlelight was strongest. Daisy pulled me forward without hesitation, looping her arm through mine as if to make certain I stood beside her.

The memory is so clear. It was such an odd placement for me to be.

Kane looked straight ahead, Daisy angled herself inward—and there I was standing between them, smiling as politely as I could. I always hated that picture. When Daisy had given me a copy, I’d shredded it into pieces. In retrospect, I wonder if the reason why I felt off that night was because I had unknowingly tangled myself into a web I couldn’t climb out of.

It was a room full of people who would make awful life-altering decisions that would ultimately weave us together in ways that we’d never imagined.

FORTY-FIVE

“Do not invite them in for if you do they shall remain.”

— EXCERPT FROM THE SHERIFF’S LOG

A dizziness rushes through my head. “Oh my god. Oh—my god.”