Page 82

Entering Hollis

I slow down when we near the turn.

Emma hollers, “Where are we going?”

“There’s something I want to share with you,” I yell in return.

It’s been over a year since I’ve been down this path. Nature’s already reclaiming it, grass and weeds covering up decades of tire tracks.

I still know every divot and rock, weaving around them down the never-ending driveway. I’m delaying this—driving slow and careful. It’s not every day I return to the place where I was born, and life ended.

The two-bay garage is the first thing to come into view. My father’s life’s work is still intact, although crowded in by tall weeds and young trees. But what was once our home is not. A charred skeleton with a stone chimney spine is in its place. The fire was so hot, so big, it devoured everything in its path.

“Jonathan, why are we here?”

I hear Emma’s voice faintly, but I’m not able to answer. I’m not here with her. The cracking of glass. Splintering of boards. Screaming… coming from the second floor—banging on the window. I close my eyes, but it doesn’t silence them.

It’s not fear that’s surfacing. It’s rage.

“What are you afraid of, Emma?”

“What?” My question catches her by surprise.

“What is it that keeps you up at night? What is the source of all of your nightmares? What are you afraid of?”

The realization of where we are and what happened here sharpens her gaze. “This was your house, wasn’t it?”

More than that—this is the source of my nightmares. They met me each morning when I woke up. They didn’t feed off my sleep as they do now. Every day I got out of bed, the nightmare began, waiting for me to breathe wrong so he could inflict pain. This is where I hid my secrets from the world. My best friends. At times, even from myself.

Denying the truth doesn’t make it any less real.

“What happened here?”

“I thought I would feel different. More afraid, I guess.” We’re surrounded by stillness. The chirping of birds. The soft rustling of branches. There is nothing here to fear any longer. He’s long dead and buried. Ashes returned to the same earth from which he constructed his castle.

“It’s so much worse in my dreams. Fire’s coming out of every window. Smoke blacking out the stars. And I can’t get close because it’s so hot; it feels like my skin will melt off.”

“Jonathan!” Pounding on the glass. “Jonathan, help me!”

I walk to the steps. The last time I touched this stone, it felt like lava. But now it’s cool and solid beneath my hands. I couldn’t do anything other than watch his fortress burn to the ground.

I’m still waiting for the fear to tighten my chest. Steal my breath. It’s the heat in my veins that rises instead. Maybe my fear isn’t what happened this night, but what it did to me afterwards.

“I just sat in the woods and watched. Watched it all burn away. But the screams…their screams all sound the same.”

“What?” Emma stands beside me, trying to understand. “Did someone die in the fire?” Everything suddenly clicks into place. “Your father. This is how he died.”

I look into my brother’s eyes, the same blue as our mother’s, as he pleads for me to help him from the other side of the window. But it wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard I pulled. And the flames started crawling up under my feet.

“So did my mother and younger brother.” I haven’t talked about them since the last interview I had with the police. I lower onto the bottom step and rake my hands through my hair.

Emma eases down next to me, like she’s afraid I might spook if she moves too quickly. “Did he set the fire?”

My heart pounds as I try to control my breathing. I’m still here, and Ryan’s not. In what world is that fair?

I shake my head, not ready to talk about how this all happened. It’s not something I can face myself. I’m sorry, Ryan.

“Is this why you brought me here? To show me your nightmare—the one you keep having over and over again?”