by Jesse Grey
“What? You’ve been interrogated by the police for the Sumner Shadows case?” Sterling’s cries quit instantaneously after learning of her brother’s apparent criminal involvement. “What’s going on?”
Straton heaved heavy yet again, preparing to tell his little sister about the night an attempted murderer dropped by his dorm room, and all the encapsulating events that had aspired from the bloody late night visitation from the infamous Sumner Shadows.
15
A VESSEL AND HER SKELETONS
Abram was just finishing getting ready when he heard his phone bleating on his bed from his bathroom. Running a hand through his hair for a completed tousled look, he went back into his bedroom and picked up his phone. It was a text from Alex, asking him if he wanted something from Hardee’s. He sent Alex a quick order before his thoughts wandered.
He was in a predicament when it came to Alex. Abram had told Alex that they should just enjoy their time together and not define what was going on between them, but Homecoming was in two days, and he knew that it was a big deal to Alex. Or at least, it had been.
Back when they were Abe and Liss, he always knew they’d go to Homecoming together, and eventually, Prom. But things had changed so much since Lissa had become Alex. Sure, he knew he still had feelings for Alex, but he didn’t exactly know what that really said about him and his sexuality. And he needed to talk to someone about it.
It also didn’t help that they were at a standstill with the Emmy Walker situation. Throughout the entire surrounding areas of New Hampshire, they’d found four Emily Walkers and ten total women with the last name Walker that were within driving distance, since they figured that Sumner had to know the person well enough that they were relatively close by. But Abram and Alex had both left mes-sages for all of them, and they hadn’t heard anything the two days that had passed. Just thinking about Alex again brought up the ur-gency for him to talk through his emotions.
Abram headed downstairs, seeing his sister talking on the phone, presumably with Faith or Kirby. “Hey, where’s Dad?”
Willa covered the receiver end of her cell phone. “Patio.”
He left his sister to ramble on the phone about what sounded like Homecoming as he went through the kitchen and glided out of the back door, seeing his father sipping some coffee and reading some-thing on his Kindle, leisurely reclined at their patio table.
Steven looked up upon his son’s entrance to the St. James back-yard, putting down his e-reader. “Morning.”
“Yeah, morning.” Abram said nervously, suddenly knowing that this was a terribly embarrassing thing to even think about talking to with his dad. But at the same time, he knew he needed to. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
Abram sat down in front of his dad, anxiety eating away at every edge of his skin. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
His phone chimed again in his pocket, taking a pause from his conversation to glance at it to see that Alex was headed to the St. James residence to pick him up for school.
“Is Alex on his way?” Steven asked.
“Yeah.” Abram nodded back with weak enthusiasm. “It’s actually Alex that I wanted to talk to you about.”
Steven’s brow quivered. “You and Alex? Are you back together?”
A severe sigh dangled from Abram’s lips, a cliffhanging answer clutched in the shadows of his mouth. “I don’t know. I mean, it was a huge shock when I found out that Alex had transitioned. But throughout the past month, I can't ignore the fact that the feelings are still there.”
“Okay.” Steven nodded. “So what’s the problem?”
“I’m just a little confused about what it all means. Alex is a guy. Does this, wanting to be more than friends with him, make me gay? If Alex and I started dating again, I don’t know what that means as far as who I am to other people.”
His dad smiled a little bit, regarding his son with warm features on the horizon of his face. “Son, do you love Alex?”
“I don’t know,” Abram admitted without conflict. “I definitely did before. I don’t know about now, but for whatever reason, I can’t stop thinking about him. And now, when we kiss—”
“So you’ve kissed, huh?”
Blushing slightly, Abram laughed. “Yes, Dad, we’ve kissed. And when we have kissed, it’s just felt so right. It’s felt like we’ve never been apart these past few months.”
“Then why worry about what that makes you?” his dad went on. “If you want to be with Alex and Alex wants to be with you, then be together. Life’s too short to worry about what label to give yourself. Just be happy, Abram. That’s all your mother and I have ever wanted for you and your sister.”
All Abram could do was smile at his father as he got up and gave him a hug. “Thanks, Dad.”
Being with Alex, he was coming to realize, didn’t make him any-thing but lucky to have found a person to share his life with. He had found a palpitating, kindred soul in Alex, a bright being that knew him better than he thought he knew himself. To Abram, maybe lov-ing Alex meant he just loved people, not genders.
He went to leave, but his father caught his attention again. “So then what’s next for you and Alex?”
“Ask him to Homecoming.” Abram beamed as he went back in-side the house.
He re-entered the house just as there was an unruly visitor out-side the front door. He walked through the kitchen and watched as his mom reached for the handle, a smile pulling Abram’s lips upward as he expected to see Alex on the opposite side of the door, but Abram wouldn’t have bet on seeing the blonde that was currently at his doorstep when the door swung open and revealed their visitor.
“Celia?” came November’s voice, her tone drawn back in a high pitch of bewilderment.
Celia Shadows gave a curt grin to the two St. James family mem-bers in front of her. “Nova, it’s been a long time.”
Abram hadn’t seen Sumner’s stepmother in a long time, since the night that Sumner attacked them. She looked like she always did, with hazy gray-blue eyes and pinched facial features that made her look leagues younger than she truly was. She fiddled with her finger-tips as she eyed the St. James matriarch with extreme intent.
“Do you have a minute?”
She had just slipped on her favorite nude pumps when Kirby heard a car pull up outside of her house. Her mom had been gone from their restored Victorian when she had woken up this morning. Not an-swering her phone, Kirby was left to wonder where her mother was the entire time she had been getting ready for school. So when she heard the vehicle rustling outside, she raced to the window to see what was going on. Kirby couldn’t have possibly prepared herself for what was waiting to assault her retinas.
Athena Wheaton got out of the police car laughing, Detective Al-ston Dagger opening up the unmarked police car door for her. The smile on his face reflected the same giddy expression her mother wore like a new expensive perfume, and Kirby’s jaw lay open at the surely mirage of action through the blinds that she was witnessing.
When her mom entered the house, Kirby was there, glancing at her from the foyer with grand eyes. Athena jumped once her eyes fell on her daughter.
“Lord, Kirby. You scared me.”
“Why did Detective Dagger just drop you off?”
She saw hesitation scurry across her mother’s face. But she quick-ly did her best to replace it with a neutral sentiment. “Just some business.”
“Mom.” Kirby approached her, not believing the feign attempt at an excuse.
“I’m serious. He brought me down to the station to ask me some questions about the escaped patient.”
Interest caused her eyebrows to bob for a few seconds, like waves crashing over on her forehead. “Blanche Baxxen?”
“She was one of my patients, along with many others. He was just questioning me about my interactions with her.”
Wrinkling her nose at a familiar aroma, Kirby scoffed. “Okay. So you went down to answer some q
uestions and you swapped stories over coffee?” When her mother’s irises flexed in reaction, Kirby knew that her silent assumptions were right. “I can smell the dark roast on you.”
Losing the facade, Athena sighed. “He may have invited me out for a cup of coffee afterwards.”
“Are you forgetting that he accused me, really both of us, of help-ing Sumner back into town?”
“He’s a good guy, Kirby. And it’s been a really long time since I’ve met one of those.” Athena said. “He’s one of the good guys. And he’s...sweet.”
The smile on her mother’s face was enough to make the need to retch rise within her. “Just be careful.”
“I’m fine, darling. Who knows, maybe it was a one-time thing.”
As her mother passed her, Kirby saw the stereotypical schoolgirl giddiness glaze over her features again, making Kirby think that she’d be seeing a lot more of Alston Dagger in a more personal setting, one she wasn’t sure she was prepared to be a part of.
Something fell out of her mother’s jacket as she walked into the kitchen. Kirby was quick to retrieve it and was just about to yell at her mother about dropping the seemingly innocent piece of paper, but something told Kirby not to.
Picking it up, Kirby stood in the foyer and traced her mother’s name on the front of what she realized was a letter. She was unsure if she should actually read the letter, hoping that she wasn’t crossing some huge line of trust between her and her mother, but she had to know. So when she opened the letter and saw its contents, Kirby gasped so loud, her mother appeared from the kitchen, causing Kirby to shove the letter in the pocket of her blazer before Athena could see what she had in her hands.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?”
Kirby plastered on a smile. “I’m fine.”
Athena smiled back. “I’ll grab us some muffins and we’ll head to school, okay?”
“Yeah.” she held her grin.
Once her mother receded back into the kitchen, Kirby ripped out the letter again, gawking at the strokes of the pen that had been writ-ten. She wanted to confront her mother, ask her what in the hell was going on, but she knew she couldn't. Not just yet. She knew she needed to mull things over before she asked her mom why in the hell Blanche Baxxen was writing to her and asking for her help.
Walking onto the campus of Westbrooke High School felt weird for Sterling. She’d only known the familiar halls of her high school in Hanover, vibrant color schemes along the walls and warm inviting decorations strung up by overly energized faculty. But Westbrooke was all dark paint and noncommittal upkeep, something so foreign to her it made her wonder how anyone got anything done in such a state of colorless environment.
Sterling followed the flow of the crowd toward the cafeteria, searching for the people she longed to talk to. Pushing her way into the heart of the cafeteria, she scanned the room with severe focus until a couple minutes passed and she found the four of them sitting at a table in the back.
With a high-strung breath, Sterling marched over to them, hear-ing their laughter grow louder and louder in her ears until she saw their faces drop from laughter to a collective of unspoken inquiries as they looked her over.
The first one to stare into her eyes was the one who seemed to ooze charm and confidence, his wildly styled black hair as untamed as his personality. “Can we help you?”
His friends joined him in glancing over the honey brown haired vixen. But she kept her cool as she rolled her shoulders before she spoke, steeling herself for the topic at hand.
“You’re all Sumner’s former friends, right?”
“Yeah.” the black haired boy said with caution. “And you are?”
“Sterling Jacobs.” She gave them a small smile. “I believe you all know my brother, Straton.” All of their eyes strained at her words. Sterling wasted no time in continuing on with her mission. “I want to talk about Blanche Baxxen.”
The tallest of the group, a scruffy blond that would, under differ-ent circumstances, totally be her type, stood up from the table. In a faint whisper, he leaned toward her. “What do you know about Blanche Baxxen?”
“Maybe we should talk somewhere less public?” Sterling suggest-ed.
They were all in agreement that they should move the exchange elsewhere. The four of them led her to a small little area between the cafeteria and another school building, secluded from the rest of the student body.
“Straton never mentioned having a sister.” The small boy with light brown hair spoke softly. “Does Faith know about you?”
The stain of a smile accosted Sterling’s lips. “You must be Alex.”
He nodded, returning the grin. The rest of them quickly intro-duced themselves, allowing Sterling to put their faces to the names her brother had given her. Not that he knew she was here and skip-ping school to talk to them about her best friend.
“So, Sterling, what are you doing here?” Mercer asked.
“I want to know what you know about Blanche. Because if you know anything about Sumner using her—”
“We don’t know anything. We never even heard of her before the news report.” Bridge explained, picking at the handful of tater tots he’d brought with him from lunch.
“Nothing? You never saw her with Sumner at a party or anything like that?”
Abram shook his head. “He never talked about a girl. Really ev-er.”
“Anyway, we think he met Blanche after everything happened the night of the first attack.” Alex added.
“None of this makes sense,” Sterling began to pace, giving con-trol over to her frustrations. “This isn’t Blanche.”
“How do you know her?”
Sterling tossed her hair to the other side, biting her lip in small slivers. They waited for her explanation as she quietly gathered her-self. “You swear you don’t know anything about Blanche’s involve-ment with Sumner?”
“If we did, we’d be sitting in a police station having every detail pulled out of us.” Abram told her. “We’re as clueless as you, Sterling.”
Quieting her mind, she nodded at them. If Blanche had met Sumner after he fled from police, they really wouldn’t know any-thing. If they did, they probably wouldn’t have wanted to hear what she had to say because they would already have some of the answers. Slowly, she began to explain herself.
“Blanche and I are best friends. We met in middle school when she moved to Hanover from Virginia. She was a grade above me, so when she went to the high school, we were separated. But that’s when she got close to Straton. My freshman year, when Blanche was a sophomore and my brother was a senior, they started dating.”
“Straton and Blanche?”
Sterling shook her head positively at Alex’s question. “For a little while. Once Straton graduated, they split and it was back to me and Blanche against the world.” She paused to laugh it off a little, re-membering the dynamic between her and the girl she considered a sister. “But then Blanche graduated this past summer and we were separated again.”
“Where did she go after graduation?” Mercer said.
“Her plan was to go to Heartmyth, but because of some issues with her mom, she couldn't go right away. She always wanted to travel, so she took the opportunity to see more than just the sights of New Hampshire. So, she left town."
“And she ended up finding Sumner along the way.” Bridge scoffed.
Sterling raised her shoulders noncommittally. “I guess. But there’s no way Blanche put her mother in the coma.”
Alex’s eyes bulged, and he saw all of his friends were reacting in the exact way that he was. “Coma?”
“That’s why they sent her to Arclan Asylum. She returned back to Hanover and the day I was supposed to finally reunite with her, they found her mom unresponsive. Blanche was blamed, and sent to Arclan.”
“This entire thing is insane.” Bridge sighed.
“But she didn’t do it. Blanche and her mom had serious issues, and I’m not saying that there were times that she didn’t have
just cause to at least wish her mom ill will, but she would never bash her own mother’s head in.” Tears stung at the brims of her eyes. “I think Sumner is the one who hurt Blanche’s mother.”
“Sumner?”
Sterling affirmed Bridge’s curiosity, shaking her head as she went on.
“She met Sumner, got involved with him, and finally realized that he was actually dangerously crazy and stopped helping him. Then a couple days later, Blanche’s mother is comatose and she ends up in Arclan, where Sumner just happened to be hiding beneath? I don’t believe in such a huge coincidence.”
The friends took in her words, staring at Sterling and then at one another. If somehow Sumner had framed Blanche for her mother’s condition, then that meant that Sumner was even more of an at-tempted murderer. He was a calculated and cold-hearted vessel of vicious assault.
“How much did Straton tell you?” Abram said.
“He told me about his and Hugo’s interactions with Sumner at the start of August. And about how the police knew about him but not about Hugo and to keep it that way for as long as possible. Then he told me about you guys, about what you must have went through that night.” Sterling concluded.
“We’re really sorry about Blanche,” Alex began. “But we have no idea where she’s hiding.”
“I’m sorry if I seemed to accuse you before. I just want to find her. She must be terrified, being on the run.”
“We want to find her too. “Abram nodded. “She spent time with Sumner right before he showed up at Straton’s doorstep. If she knows why he was practically bathing in blood, we have to find her and get to the bottom of why Sumner started this hysteria all those months ago.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Sterling said, her demeanor straight-laced and determined. “Because after Westbrooke’s Homecoming, I’ll be transferring here.” She ignored the crazed way their eyes constricted. “Because even if Blanche wises up and flees this place, I’m not giving up until I know every detail of what Sumner Shadows did that led him to destroy my best friend’s life.”