Burden Falls

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Burden Falls Page 29

by Kat Ellis


  I told him last night what I saw. Dominic listened without dismissing it or blaming it all on the drug.

  “How?” But I realize the answer a moment later. “You have the footage from the bridge camera?”

  He nods, pulling what looks like a second-hand phone from his pocket. “I downloaded it last night. Do you want to see?”

  I think about it for a minute. Watching what happened will be horrifying, but it can’t be any worse than living through it. And I need to know if what I saw was real.

  “Show me,” I tell him.

  I watch on the tiny screen as the scene unravels. There’s Carolyn, waiting. Watching the manor burn. I’m still out of frame when she sees me and starts backing toward the waterfall. At the moment where I remember Sadie appearing behind Carolyn, the footage shows an odd shadow gathering in the vapor swirling above the waterfall. It seems to wrap around her as she stumbles back, her hands flying up to her face in the moment before she tips over the guardrail and vanishes.

  It’s nothing as far as the police are concerned. But the shiver running through me as I watched it told me not to be so sure. Maybe it was the PCP conjuring up Sadie in my mind—or maybe it made me see things more clearly. Either way, it’s over. I just have to try and move on.

  We’re quiet for a long moment after the video ends. Then Dominic says, “Did you hear about what happened to Hamish?”

  I’d forgotten all about Hamish, to be honest. I pull back just enough to see Dominic’s face. “No?”

  “Apparently, your note scared him so badly, he turned himself in at the police station to make a full confession. It seems he took a bribe from my sister to secure her a spot in the summer art program, then refused to give back the money when it turned out she was too young to go. He’d already spent it on an engagement ring for his girlfriend.”

  “Wow.” It isn’t at all what I expected, but Hamish is still a giant asshole.

  Dominic sighs. “I’m sorry Freya did that to you, though. It wasn’t right.”

  “That doesn’t matter now,” I tell him. I can’t muster the energy to be even slightly pissed off about it. How could I after what Uncle Ty and Carolyn did? What they took from Dominic and his family? “Nic, I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for—”

  “Don’t,” he says, quiet but firm. “You had no control over what they did. This is in no way your fault.”

  I sigh. “Freya deserved a lot better than what she got.”

  So did Ford.

  Neither of them was perfect, but who the hell is? They should’ve been allowed the chance to grow up, be adults, build lives. Live.

  “I have to go give a statement,” Dominic says. “Where will you be later? My parents and I are checked in at a hotel in Haverford. Are you staying with someone?”

  Both Daphne and Carla have offered to let me stay with them, but I need a little time on my own to process everything. “I’ll be at the cottage whenever you’re done.”

  * * *

  * * *

  A few days later, after the literal dust settles, I sit down and talk to Madoc and Lucille Miller. About a lot of things—the crash, the manor, the bad feeling between our families. And the money Madoc gave me.

  I try to give the check back, but the Millers insist I keep it.

  “It truly was your share of the sale price for the manor,” Madoc says firmly. “I only wish I’d been able to predict what your uncle might do to get his hands on it. I’m so, so sorry, Ava.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I tell him, and for the first time I mean it. “I lived with him and Carolyn for a year, and had no idea what they were planning.”

  “What on earth could make a couple become so twisted?” Lucille wonders aloud. It makes me think of the article I read about Dead-Eyed Sadie, and the way Ephraim and Susannah Thorn murdered her.

  “I guess in any relationship, each person brings out something unique in the other,” I say, quoting Daphne’s Dimple Theory. “Sometimes that’s a really bad thing.”

  * * *

  * * *

  It’s strange being alone in the cottage. But it has given me space to figure out what I want to do. By the time Carla and Daphne come over to watch a movie the following week, I’ve come to a decision.

  “Nic has asked me to go on a road trip with him,” I say, and can’t help grinning when Daphne lets out a gasp. Even Carla pauses the film.

  Before the fire, Dominic already had his shiny new RV for the “road trip of legends” as I’m calling it. (He does not approve.) It was parked in the garage, away from the house, so it’s one of the very few items to survive the fire.

  I feel sick for the Millers. Not only are they dealing with losing Freya, but now they’ve lost their home too. And maybe the house wasn’t theirs for very long, but it was theirs.

  The manor I loved is starting to feel distant now, like a dream that fades after waking. Maybe it’s for the best that it’s no longer there. It can’t tie me to the horrors I’ve lived through—only my memories can do that. And hopefully they’ll start to feel distant one day too.

  Dominic says his parents are planning to move back to Evansville. I can’t say I blame them.

  “So when do you leave?” Daphne asks. She’s acting excited for my benefit, but she doesn’t hide her feelings well.

  “I don’t,” I say. “At least, not until after graduation. Because I do want to graduate, and keep my options open for the future. Nic’s coming back to pick me up as soon as school’s over.”

  “He is?” Daphne cheeses so hard, I burst out laughing.

  It’s going to be hard not seeing Dominic for three months, but I’m determined to use the time well. Make sure I graduate. Keep going for checkups to make sure the PCP I got dosed with hasn’t done any permanent damage. And, maybe most importantly, start seeing a therapist again. I don’t want everything that’s happened to get twisted inside me and turn me into anything remotely like Carolyn or Uncle Ty.

  In the meantime, Dominic and I can always video chat. I happen to know he’s pretty handy with a camera.

  “Who knew Dominic Miller was such a romantic asshole?” Carla deadpans, but I can tell she sort of means it in a nice way. “But what about the summer art program? I thought that was like your One Thing in Life. Aren’t you still going to fight for a spot?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Actually, what I really want is to keep working on Mostly Deadish with Nic. It feels like it might turn into something great, you know?”

  “Uh-huh,” Daphne teases.

  “Shut up.”

  “So you’re all in with the comics, then?” Carla asks skeptically. “No backup plan?”

  “I have to give it my best shot, right?”

  I’m going to try my hardest not to touch the money I got from the sale of the manor. It’s not that I feel like it’s blood money now—I would definitely have felt that way a few months ago, knowing it’d come from the Millers’ pockets. But it feels important to try to make my own way, not just fall back on the money my family took for granted for so long. And maybe one day I’ll figure out something worthwhile to do with Madoc’s money—something positive that might tip the balance back a little.

  For now, I have my savings from the Pump’N’Go, and I’ll just have to see what else is out there for me when I leave Burden Falls.

  Daphne and Carla have got college to look forward to. They both got into NYU, and will be living together for the first time when they go there. I’m excited for them. I’m excited for me too, for the first time in a looong while.

  Dominic and I are going hunting for monsters to write amazing, exciting comics about, and I cannot. Fucking. Wait.

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later

  I wave Daphne and Carla off, trying my best not to blubber again. I’ve already had to reapply my eyeliner twice, and I’m in danger of turning i
nto the Crow. Dominic is due to arrive any minute, and snotty mess is not really the look I’m going for the first time he sees me in months.

  The cottage is all packed up, the furniture sold, and the few bags I’m taking sit on the front step next to me. The only thing that really matters, though, is the necklace around my neck. This one piece of my parents is all I need to remind me what a Thorn should be.

  Daphne, Carla, and I celebrated graduation in style last week. Mateo and Casper threw a huge party, and I was actually invited. We’ve come to a sort of uneasy okayness with each other over the past three months. I can’t say I’ll ever be besties with them, but I don’t feel the urge to throat-punch either of them now, which is progress.

  My heart races at the sound of an engine pulling into the lane. A few seconds later, I see him. Or rather it. The RV is an enormous beast, and I can’t wait to take a turn driving it.

  Dominic jumps down from the cab and I run over to meet him. He looks tan and ridiculously hot, and when he spins me around I breathe him in and thank the Dark Lord he doesn’t smell like Axe-nuked sweat and Pop-Tarts.

  “You got even hotter,” I accuse.

  “I know.” I gape at him in outrage, but he just laughs and says, “Damn it, I’ve waited months to do this again.”

  Dominic Miller kisses me. Damn, does he kiss me.

  And I kiss him right back.

  * * *

  * * *

  We set off as soon as my bags are in the RV. As I’m about to pull away from the cottage, I notice Dominic peering up at it with an odd look on his face.

  “What is it?”

  He turns to me, a wicked glint in his eye. “Just checking there are no ghosts waving us off. Did I ever tell you my ancestors used to live here?”

  “Really? Ancestors as in Sadie?”

  “Maybe. I told you my family stopped using Burnett as our last name after Sadie died, and went by Miller after that. They must’ve been working at the mill for a while by then for the name to stick.”

  Of course—miller. I feel pretty dense for not connecting those dots before now.

  “There are evil eyes carved into the frames of all the windows looking out toward the manor,” I say, glancing in that direction, even though the manor isn’t actually visible from where we’re parked. I imagine some long-dead relative of Dominic’s carving them there carefully, hoping they might send the Thorns the bad fortune they so very much deserved after getting away with Sadie’s murder. “Do you want to go in and see?”

  But Dominic shakes his head. “I’m ready for something new. Aren’t you?”

  I watch the Welcome to Burden Falls sign come and go as we drive past. Sadie still stands with her back turned, gazing at the waterfall. Unchanging, and stuck there forever. Unlike me and Dominic. I’m not sure how to feel about that.

  I know I’ll never stop thinking about Sadie, wondering how much of what I saw was real or just the effects of the drug. But for now I’m focusing on what’s in front of me. This is the start of something. I can feel it.

  I look at Dominic, see the way his lips purse when he’s concentrating, as he is now. He’s pretty thorough when it comes to route-planning, apparently. I guess one of us has to be.

  “So which place on The List are we visiting first?” I ask.

  Dominic looks up, eyes shining. “How do you feel about cannibals?”

  “Uh, not generally in favor.”

  He laughs that open, booming laugh, and I realize something: I’ve only ever heard him laugh that way with me.

  “Oh my God, that’s your dimple!”

  His grin falters. “My what?”

  But I just shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. Just tell me which way to go.”

  Nic turns back to his map. “We more or less follow the river west all the way. I mean, it splits and reconnects at a few points, but it’s actually weird how our river feeds the lake there.”

  “Maybe that’s where all the bad stuff ends up,” I say. Dominic glances at me, frowning. “You know—the burdens. They have to go somewhere, right? Maybe it all ends up there.”

  I reach up to adjust the rearview mirror, catching one last glimpse of the sign as I do so. I take a sharp breath.

  “What is it? Did you forget something?” Dominic says.

  On the roadside beneath the sign, a dark figure stands with her head bowed. She wasn’t there a moment ago, I’m sure of it. I adjust the mirror back the other way, and she’s gone.

  “Ava?”

  I shake my head and fix my eyes back on the road. Ignore the churning in my gut. Focus on what’s in front of me.

  “It was nothing,” I say.

  And I really hope that’s the truth.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Here it is: another book. The difference this time is that it was mostly written during a global pandemic, and so I’ve decided that if there are any errors—grammatical, factual, or general—it’s the pandemic’s fault. Sorry about that.

  But even in a socially distanced world, I’ve been surrounded by the many wonderful people who helped bring this book to life. So here are my thanks:

  To my editors, Emma Jones at Puffin, and Jessica Dandino Garrison at Dial; you are a joy to work with, and I thank you both for your immense insight and expertise. Huge thanks also to the teams at Penguin Random House UK and US for their work on this book, from designing the gorgeous covers to catching the strayest commas; for finding me new readers and so much more: Stephanie Barrett, Jane Tait, Simon Armstrong, Jasmin Kauldhar, Adam Webling, Jan Bielecki, Beth Fennell, Sabrina Chong, Susanne Evans and Alice Grigg in the UK, and Rosie Ahmed, Regina Castillo, Mina Chung, Elaine C. Damasco, Lizzie Goodell, Lauri Hornik and Nancy Mercado in the US.

  To my agent, Molly Ker Hawn; you are my wisest, mightiest champion, and I’m so grateful for all that you do.

  Thanks to my brilliant friends Jani Grey and Dawn Kurtagich, for always cheering me on, and as always to my husband, friends, and family, for all your encouragement and support.

  And thank you to my readers; I hope you love this book. I made it extra creepy for you.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Kat Ellis studied English with Creative Writing at Manchester Metropolitan University before going on to work in local government communications. She now writes young adult fiction full-time and, when she's not writing, can be found exploring ancient ruins, watching horror movies, and spoiling her cats.

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