She Was the Quiet One

by Michele Campbell

  “Please, let go,” she said, in a shaking voice.

  But he grabbed her by both arms and yanked her to sitting. She nearly passed out.

  “Sarah, I tried to make peace with you. I begged forgiveness. I humbled myself. What did I get in return? Betrayal. You scream like a banshee, you bang on the door, like you’re trying to attract the cops? How can I trust you after a stunt like that? Where’s the good faith? Where’s the love?”

  His tone was so wounded, so disappointed, that it terrified her. He thought he was right. He thought Sarah was the one in the wrong. She wanted to tell him how insane that was, but she didn’t have the strength.

  “Please, leave me alone,” she whispered.

  “I can’t do that. You’re trying to ruin me, and I have no idea why. All I ever did was love you, and try to protect you. Everything could’ve been fine, but no, you had to go and destroy my trust in you. Now I see that the first chance you get, you’ll go to the cops. I thought we were teammates. I thought we would tough this out together. But you’re not on my side, and that makes you my enemy. I never thought it would come to this, but I have no choice. I’m actually really sad, for myself and the kids, that you’re making me do this.”

  Tears glittered in his eyes as he raised the gun. Sarah said a silent prayer and waited to die.

  Outside, Max started barking like mad.

  “What the hell.”

  Heath lowered the gun and walked to the window.

  “The dog got out,” he said. “Somebody’s in the woods. If it’s that kid, swear to God, I’ll kill him.”

  Heath ran from the room. This time, he forgot to lock the door. With tremendous effort, Sarah got out of bed and walked to the window to see who was out there. If she knocked on the window, would they hear?

  At that moment, floodlights came on, lighting the perimeter. Heath must have turned them on. Sarah squinted, but saw only trees. The window faced the backyard, and the woods beyond, which extended as far as the eye could see. The light stopped at the edge of the woods, making the woods appear especially dark and ominous, which felt appropriate. Those trees hid a multitude of horrors. Lost Lake was out there, less than a mile as the crow flies, where Heath had stabbed Bel Enright, and left her bleeding in the snow.

  Max stood at attention at the edge of the woods and barked incessantly. Maybe a person was in there, or maybe it was an animal, but there was definitely something. Heath emerged from the house. Sarah gripped the sill as she watched him cross the lawn, heading for the spot where the dog stood. The rain had turned to snow. The lawn was white with it. He slipped a couple of times as he made his way, and had to right himself, but he was there in a minute.

  A thought penetrated her fever fog. Why the hell was she just standing here? She should take advantage of his distraction, and run for the road. But her body was slow to obey her thoughts, and in that moment of hesitation, Heath reached Max, and started yelling. A person emerged from the woods, a girl, with her hands up. It was Rose. He had the gun pointed at her.

  * * *

  Sarah made it down the stairs, and stopped short in the entry hall, unsure of where to go. Her legs were like water. She didn’t have an ounce of energy to spare. This house was enormous, and she didn’t know her way around. Think. Heath had exited directly from the house to the backyard. There must be a rear exit. A stiff wind blew through, coming from the back of the house. She followed it, creeping down a long hallway past darkened rooms, her hand on the wall to keep from falling over. She couldn’t think about her illness now. She wouldn’t give into it. She had to think of Rose, who’d come here to help her and gotten caught.

  Sarah made her way to the kitchen. It was vast, industrial, and dark, but she couldn’t turn on the light, for fear of attracting Heath’s attention. Near the sink, beside a window, something glittered. Knives, hanging from a magnetic strip. She grabbed a big one, and the heft of it in her hand was terrible. She pushed the thought away, not wanting to know what it felt like when he stabbed that poor girl to death.

  Outside, Rose screamed, and Sarah rushed to the back door. It stood ajar, leading from the hall behind the kitchen onto the snow-covered terrace, and lawn beyond. Heath faced the woods, his back to Sarah, his gun still trained on Rose. As she walked out the door, a powerful gust of wind nearly pushed her back inside. The snow was falling harder now. Neither Heath nor Rose had noticed her. She picked her way across the lawn in sodden loafers, one step at a time, praying that she could sneak up on him from behind. She might have succeeded. But Max woofed at her, and Heath turned. She crossed the last few steps, staring at the barrel of his gun.

  “Run,” she said to Rose, raising her knife as if she’d attack him. But he had a gun, and she could barely hold the knife up.

  Heath stared at her in surprise. “What are you doing? Don’t be foolish. Give me that thing,” he said.

  When Sarah didn’t budge, he put the gun to Rose’s head. “Sarah, don’t make me do things I don’t need to do. Drop that on the ground right now,” he said.

  And she did.

  “Inside,” he said, waving the gun toward the house.

  When Rose cowered, and dug her feet in, Heath sighed.

  “Look, this gun thing, it’s just to make you listen. It’s freezing out here. Let’s go inside, and try to work this out.”

  Sarah looked at Rose for the first time. The girl was shaking and crying. She’d just spent five minutes out here alone, with Heath. Maybe he planned to kill them, no matter what, and Rose knew that. Maybe he’d already told her.

  “I want to know what you’re going to do,” Sarah said.

  Heath turned to her. She looked at his familiar, much-loved face, and didn’t see her husband there. She knew the answer. He was going to kill them inside. The certainty of that stopped her breath.

  “Just go,” he said.

  When Sarah didn’t move, Heath reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Sarah went limp and fell to the ground, forcing him to bend down to try to drag her up. Rose saw that he was distracted, and bolted toward the house, screaming and shrieking. As Heath took aim, a powerful blast of wind hit him hard, and he staggered backward. A shot rang out. Wood chips flew. He’d fired at Rose, and hit a tree. Rose’s cries spread out on the wind, echoing in all directions. Heath pointed the gun straight down at Sarah. His face was wet. She thought he might be crying.

  “I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said.

  “Police! Drop it!”

  Detective Melissa Howard stood ten feet from them, pointing her own gun at Heath’s head. He didn’t move.

  “Drop it or I’ll shoot,” she said.

  Sarah stared up at her husband. She pulled herself up on an elbow, finding his eyes.

  “Do what she says. I’ll help you. I’ll stand by you. I promise.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t face it,” he whispered.

  Heath pressed the gun to his own chin and pulled the trigger.

  65

  One Year Later

  At a bend in the road, just before the gates of Odell Academy came into sight, Grandma looked at Rose and saw tears on her face. She pulled over in the driveway and took Rose’s hand.

  “You’re sure about this, dear?” she asked, her soft voice barely audible over the blast of the heater, and the swish of the windshield wipers against the glass.

  “The memorial was my idea, Grandma.”

  “I know. And it’s a beautiful one. But the dedication ceremony is simply a formality. You don’t have to go. I can call, and say our flight was canceled. Or I can drop you back at the hotel, and go by myself. I don’t mind. This place holds no memories for me, the way it does for you. Maybe it’s better if you never see it again. What do you think?”

  “I’m not sure. I wanted to come. To be here for Bel. But now, thinking about seeing the place, the people … it just seems hard.”

  Rose stared out the window. Grandma handed her a Kleenex, and she wiped her eyes. Just the sight of snowflakes, melting
on the windshield, reminded her of things. Where they lived now, there was no snow, just as there hadn’t been any in California, when she and Bel were growing up together. The only cold place in her life was this one.

  When Grandma had realized the truth, she asked Rose how to make amends for not believing her. Take me far away from here, Rose said. They lived in Florida now, just the two of them, together. Grandma dumped that lawyer once she saw how he tried to come between her and her granddaughter. She showed him the door, and seemed relieved to do it. Rose and Grandma were close now. They traveled together on school breaks. They had designed Bel’s memorial together. They helped each other through their grief, sometimes just by cooking a new recipe, taking a walk on the beach or just watching a funny show on TV. They lived in a modern house, stark white, with minimalist furniture, no mementos, and no photographs, except for a single photo of Bel in a silver frame with a black ribbon across it, that Grandma kept on her bedside table. Rose went in and looked at it sometimes, when she needed to.

  Things were getting better, slowly. The quiet of her new life helped. She had a bedroom with a view of the ocean, a good therapist, and a new school, completely different from Odell. Very small. She’d made some new friends. The kids there were artsy and bohemian. They reminded her a little bit of her sister.

  “What does Judith say?” Grandma asked, after a while.

  Judith was Rose’s therapist. She was old and wise, with bright blue eyes surrounded by wrinkles. Rose had had qualms about Judith at first, because of her age, which she knew was unfair, but still. She’d imagined someone young and hip, like a friend to talk to. But Judith came highly recommended, so they tried her out. And it turned out she knew a lot of things, and was exactly the right therapist for Rose.

  “Judith says it’s up to me. That it might be traumatizing. But it might be healing. Only I can decide.”

  “You decide then, Rose. Take your time. They can wait.”

  Grandma sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap, while Rose thought. She thought about the card that came in the mail, a few months back. Rose wasn’t the only one whose instinct for self-preservation counseled her to flee. The card was from Mrs. Donovan, postmarked from the town in Oregon where she now lived with her children. She didn’t say much about herself, or what she was doing. She only apologized, profusely, for not preventing Bel’s death. She held on to so much guilt that Rose felt sick at heart for her, and wrote back immediately, a letter full of forgiveness and sympathy. Rose told Mrs. Donovan about the memorial, though she stopped short of inviting her former teacher to the ceremony. That would be impossibly painful. What Sarah Donovan went through was worse than what Rose went through herself. The only person who’d suffered more than Sarah at the hands of Heath Donovan was Bel.

  Bel. Rose thought about her beautiful, sad, maddening twin. She’d been working hard to banish her own guilt, yet the negative feedback loop was powerful enough to suck her in, even sitting here in this car. Her thoughts got away from her so easily, still. If only she’d been there for Bel when it mattered. If only she’d done more. If only she hadn’t taken every little slight from Bel so personally. If only she hadn’t gotten offended, and pushed Bel away, so that she ended up dying alone, without support, because of Rose’s selfishness.

  It would be all too easy to go down that road again. But Rose was learning how to stop. She reminded herself of the things Judith said, to help her through this. Rose had heeded Bel’s cry for help that awful night. She’d ventured into the dark woods, despite a real fear for her own safety. She had found her sister, and confronted the killer. Rose still had nightmares about that night at the headmaster’s house. But she did all those things because she loved her sister, and had wanted to do her best for her. What more could one sister ask of another? If Bel were alive, she’d tell Rose that.

  Rose thought of Bel every day. This memorial was her tangible tribute. She had to be strong, and see it through.

  Rose turned to Grandma.

  “I want to be there for her. I have you with me. We can handle this. We should go.”

  Grandma nodded, and pulled back onto the road. As they approached the Odell gates, she took Rose’s hand. There were tears in Grandma’s eyes. Not tears of sadness, so much as tears of pride.

  “You’re very brave, dear. This isn’t easy. But it’s right. We’ll remember her, together.”

  Epilogue

  There are things I wish I could tell Bel. For instance, I never wanted her to die. I never expected that. I always liked her. Naturally, I did—she was my little minion. She did my bidding. It reflected well on me. Until she started disobeying. Until she started trying to take him away from me. He was mine by right. Everybody in Moreland knew it. Bel knew it, too.

  Not just by right. Heath Donovan was mine. I won the contest. Nobody knew it because he told me not to tell, like I’m sure he told her. Only, I listened. I know how to keep my mouth shut. You’d think he would have valued that quality in a girl. But after the slipper prank, Heath turned on me. He took her side. He wanted her, more than he wanted me, I guess. It made no sense. I’m better in bed. Bel was a little priss, way too uptight. And like Anonymouse said in those e-mails, Bel wasn’t that special. She wasn’t that pretty. I’m way prettier. Seriously, people always say to me: Darcy, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. That happens, like, all the time. It’s a mystery why Heath sided with her, but I couldn’t let it slide. Nobody who knows me could possibly think I would.

  I’m Anonymouse, if you haven’t guessed by now. Like, anonymous, except a mouse? Cute, right? Okay, maybe a little dorky, but I liked it.

  I lucked out, getting my hands on those pictures of Heath with Bel. It was all because Brandon had a beef going with that sneaky twit Zach Cuddy. When Zach gave Brandon his phone to be wiped after the slipper attack, Brandon decided to keep an eye on Zach, and had his computer guy clone the phone. We could see everything Cuddy did. He was right in the thick of it with those Enright girls. How he got that sex pic, I have no idea, but it was the bomb. It freaked Heath the hell out—which, I have to admit, I enjoyed. The car photo was good, too. I didn’t even need Brandon to physically follow Bel to get the goods on her. Cuddy did all the work for me, without even knowing.

  Once I got those pics, Heath Blue-Eyes Donovan was wrapped around my little finger again. I was just about to make my demands—exoneration, reinstatement, graduation—when he killed her. And then himself.

  I didn’t ask for any of that. I would much rather have had my demands met. I would much rather have blackmailed him into submission, returned to Odell in triumph and graduated. And, oh, yeah, I would rather have Heath Donovan in my bed again than have him dead. He was worth it, even if he hurt my feelings. And I wouldn’t have killed Bel, either. I might’ve punished her somehow. Exactly how, I’m not sure. But not with death. That’s just so extreme, so over the top. And they say I’m a drama queen.

  But, you know, plans go wrong sometimes. My little blackmail scheme set Heath off. I never took him for crazy, just reckless. Turns out, I was mistaken. Don’t expect me to cry over it. Bel was a big girl, she knew what she was getting into with him. As for Heath, he got what he deserved in the end. He paid the price.

  I guess we all did.

  Though, I can’t say I suffered too badly. I’m heading off to college soon. And by college, I do mean a party school, in a sunny climate, working on my tan.

  ALSO BY MICHELE CAMPBELL

  It’s Always the Husband

  About the Author

  A graduate of Harvard University and Stanford Law School, MICHELE CAMPBELL worked at a prestigious Manhattan law firm before spending eight years fighting crime as a federal prosecutor in New York City. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Epigraph

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Part Two

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63