Sever

by Jesse Grey

  “Good. If you want answers as to what this is all about, all you need to do is find a certain patient’s file.” Blanche insisted.

  “Why? Who’s the patient?”

  “Frankie Ellery.”

  Athena instantly knew the name. The patient she was bringing up hadn’t been on her own round of people to assist, but Frankie Ellery was one of the few patients injured during Blanche’s escape. And ever since the excursion, all those involved in the escape were confined to solitary, every employee being brought up to speed that no interaction with these patients would be tolerated, by any means.

  “Why Frankie Ellery? What does she have to do with all of this?”

  “Find the file, it’ll lead you to the answers.” Blanche checked the leather watch around her wrist. “Look, I’m trusting you with this, to figure this out in case something happens to me tonight.” Blanche’s eyes wavered with substantial emotive indicators, tears singing their goodbye from her dark blue irises.

  “Wait, Blanche, tonight? What’s happening tonight?”

  “Tonight, I stop hiding.”

  Shaking her head, Athena refused to accept this as a good enough re-sponse. “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to.” Blanche, reaching into her jacket pocket, revealed a flash drive and thrust it toward Athena. “If...if I don’t make it, you can re-lease this video. But not until you figure it out by yourself first, with the file. I need someone I trust behind this, someone who uncovered the full story so people don’t just go off the video confession of a…dead girl.”

  The look on Blanche’s face told Athena that she honestly didn’t think she was going to live to see morning. She was confused. Athena wasn’t under-standing why Blanche was holding back the information she so clearly pos-sessed.

  “Blanche, we should go to the police! Or just let me watch this video!”

  “Athena, dammit, you have to trust me! Trust me that this is the way everything has to happen, okay? And you can’t tell anyone. It’s your choice, Athena. This is where you decide whether to run or stick around and trust me. Are you in or out?”

  Without really meaning to, Athena was reminded of the event that hap-pened back in Maine with Kirby. Back to the reason they had moved to Ar-mor Falls, one that no one knew. And back then, she had done the impossible to protect Kirby. Blanche didn’t have her mother, didn’t have a constant to defend her legacy. She needed someone like Athena on her side, to help her settle this for good.

  Leaving her actions to speak for her, Athena grabbed the flash drive Blanche was still extending to her. If she wanted Athena to be her Plan B, to piece everything together if the worst happened tonight, then she had to honor Blanche’s plea so that for the first time since her mother’s accident, someone could protect her.

  “Thank you, Athena.” Blanche said, letting out a pure tinged breath. “I owe you everything.”

  “I’ll do everything I can. I promise you.” She nodded.

  “I know you will.” Blanche bore a half halo of a grin. “I have to go. Thanks again, for everything you’ve done, and everything I know you’ll continue to do for me. My death...it won’t be for nothing, thanks to you.”

  The young fugitive woman started to run out of the gazebo like an Olympian, ready to go off into the shadowy drapes of the cool night. But Athena had to ask one final question before she disappeared. Possibly forev-er.

  “Blanche,” she roared, causing her to turn around and stare back into the dark eyes of the stoic and sympathetic woman that was curating her legacy, awaiting her further directory of dialogue. “It’s him. The reason why you’re scared about tonight. It’s Sumner, right?”

  Scoffing, Blanche bobbed her head appropriately, as if she were waiting for Athena to ask for the validation so that it could finally be set in stone. “It always is, isn’t it?”

  Blanche retreated from Westbrooke Park, Athena clutching the lifeline that was the flash drive and hoping that everything worked out tonight so she wouldn’t have to uncover the happenings that were being kept by her former patient, and she really hoped her young friend wouldn’t meet the end of her life for attempting to tell her what Sumner’s entire breakdown was all about.

  Kirby just sat in finite quiet, looking at her mother with open, astonished eyed. She figured her mother had probably met with Blanche, but confirming that Athena was the last person to see her before the killer had slayed her like a fantasy dragon...it was a lot to take in.

  “Frankie Ellery?” Kirby pondered aloud, not needing her mother to respond. “Well, did you find the file?”

  “It’s being taken care of.” Athena nodded.”

  “Mom—”

  “No, Kirby. I’ve told you enough. I only told you because of the note you found.” The matriarch ascended, changing the core of the energy in the room. “We should get ready. The funeral is in an hour.”

  Her mother headed upstairs, enabling Kirby to re-open her lap-top and try to find everything she could about Frankie Ellery. If she was the key like Blanche said, Kirby was going to dedicate her every waking moment to making it unlock everything that was the shrouded mystery of Sumner Shadows, even if it meant not telling a single soul what she was about to embark on.

  When Bridge offered to answer the door to the Meadows house while everyone else finished getting ready, he hadn’t planned on see-ing Salem Simon. So when he threw the azul door open and was met with Salem’s dashing handsome face, a smile sizzling on his lush lips, Bridge immediately pushed him out of the doorway and closed the door so they could talk outside without the fear of being overheard.

  “What are you doing here, Salem?”

  He was dressed in his mourning best, a dark tuxedo pressed to perfection that rested tightly against his clearly muscled and toned body. Mentally getting over his apparent thirst, Bridge cleared his throat while Salem answered him.

  “Just wanted to see how you were doing.” Salem winked. “Do you really live with Kirby’s boyfriend?”

  “I told you,” Bridge scoffed. “Mercer is my best friend.”

  “What about your parents, why don’t you live with them?”

  The question stirred a roaring stab to his heart, even though he knew it wasn’t Salem’s fault. Bridge just shook his head, stepping back from the crushing gravity of the subject.

  “We don’t have to tell each other everything, like we’re a couple or whatever, so I don’t know why you’re here, and—”

  Salem stepped forward then, eliminating space between the two young men. “I haven’t stopped thinking about the bar.”

  “Salem,”

  “I’m not asking you to marry me, Bridge.” he laughed it aside, like it was preposterous, which Bridge agreed. It really was. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to share a pizza together, or see a movie...get coffee…” All while he kept his sentence sputtering between his lips, Salem seductively inched closer until Bridge felt his hot breath against his mouth, one of his hands on his own hips while Salem’s other hand loosely skimmed against Bridge’s chest. “Or grab another drink and swap further damage.”

  And then they were kissing, viciously making out while their tongues each fought for the crown of their royal battle. Their hands found each other’s bodies with such simplicity. Bridge somehow found his better judgment during the heated endeavor, lightly yet firmly pressing Salem off of him. He felt strangely proud of the look of discomfort on the taller man’s rugged face.

  “I can’t.” Bridge finally said. “I really want to, you have no idea. I’m just not ready for...anything right now.”

  “I get it.” Salem assured him with a brush-off-his-shoulder way about him that Bridge couldn't help but be fascinated by. “Can’t blame me for trying.” He paused to wag his eyebrows at him before his smirky nature was replaced by genuine concern. “I’m sorry if I pressured you or—”

  “No.” Bridge stated, calming the other boy’s cloudy concern with a tiny laugh. “You seem like a great guy. But I broke up wit
h my ex-boyfriend practically two hours ago. I’m just not in a place for any-thing more than the one time at the bar.”

  Salem agreed with a tilt of his head, grinning at him brightly. “Bridge, I got it. We’re good.”

  “Good.” he smirked.

  They broke apart abruptly when the front door snapped back open as the three Meadows’ men rolled out of the grandeur house.

  “Oh,” Clay said, seeing how close Salem and Bridge had been be-fore their exit from the house and they had stumbled upon the pair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Salem, right?”

  “That’s right, sir.” he grinned. “I better get going though. I have to pick my mother up for the funeral.”

  “You and your mother are attending Blanche’s funeral?” Araec inquired.

  “As respect,” Salem told them. “Since Mom is the new face of Ar-clan.”

  “Right.” Araec smiled warmly at him.

  “We’ll see you there then.” Mercer gave up a sincere smile that caught Bridge more off guard than Salem’s arrival on their doorstep.

  Salem just beamed again, letting his eyes linger on Bridge prior to him returning to his sleek Mitsubishi Eclipse, the latter doing his best to keep appearances as they got ready to attend Blanche Baxxen’s untimely funeral.

  “So, are you hooking up with Salem?”

  Mercer’s outright inquiry didn’t really raise suspicion to Bridge as they walked across the vast expanse of lawn as a storm cloud of peo-ple gathered for Blanche’s funeral. Personally, Bridge was just explo-sive with gratitude that Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, who were funding the dark event, hadn’t agreed to have the funeral at Armor Falls Ceme-tery, something Mercer couldn’t have thanked them enough for ei-ther. The last thing all of them needed was a reminder of the night that they were attacked, through the death of someone their age that had fell victim to murder.

  “Seriously?” Bridge smirked as they glided across the lawn to find their friends. “Is that jealousy I detect under all that bravado?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m so mad he took my man.” Mercer scoffed, laughing as he shoved himself into his friend, their shoulders rubbing together off key. “I just wanna make sure you’re careful.”

  “Is this because Salem is Kirby’s ex?”

  “It’s because you just completely ended it with Ben.” Mercer sighed, knocking his head back and forth, like a metronome of pure thought. “Although, that fact is still very...new.”

  “At least you’re not freaking out about the former pregnancy meets former flame phenomenon.”

  “It’s weird,” he said truthfully, rolling his shoulders thusly. “But if Kirby’s alright, then I’m cool with Salem. Look how she’s been around Harley. That being said, it worries me if you two are hooking up since you’re still so freshly wounded from the Ben incident. And everything with Emmy Walker and—”

  “When have you ever known me to act like a wounded animal?” Bridge draped an arm around Mercer then, rocking both of them as they continued to amble on the grass. “I’ll be okay, Merce. I love you for caring, but I’m good. And I’m not casually hooking up with Sa-lem.” He hugged briefly as their trek to Alex and Abram came to an end. “No matter how much I wa...I mean, no matter how much he wants to.”

  Stopping their give and take, Abram and Alex both looked up as their friends joined them just outside the group of people in attend-ance.

  “Okay, so what couldn’t wait until after the funeral?” Bridge quickly prompted, ready to get to business as usual.

  “We don’t have long before it starts,” Alex nodded, looking to Abram first before giving his other friends the smallest of smiles. “Abe found the brother.”

  “What brother?”

  “Reyna has a brother, remember?” Abram said, responding to Mercer’s question outright. “We found him. His name is Rephaim Walker, and we made contact with him. Sort of. Anyway, what’s important is that we know that he was her husband. He was married to Emmy Walker.”

  “That’s good. Really good.” Mercer stated. “Maybe he can help us find her, or at least why Sumner seemed to know her.”

  “That’s great and all, but what about what Reyna said?” Bridge countered. “What did she mean by her ‘one of you’ comment?”

  “We don’t know.” Alex told him. “But we have a lead. And that’s what we should focus on after all of this.”

  “Rephaim is our key to Emmy. And by proxy, the solution to un-locking the reason behind Sumner attacking us in the cemetery.”

  “Can we talk about this later, like when we’re not in another cemetery?”

  They agreed with Bridge, so they turned away from each other to join everyone else. Everyone in the mournful congregation took their seats as the funeral procession began, the friends finding sanc-tuary by their families’ side. The funeral had just started, every mem-ber of the Jacobs family standing by the leader of the funeral, when a team of policemen, led by the ever lethal Alston Dagger, made their lawful wave commence, marching towards the funeral. Many eyes flew to their adamant stampede, whispers among the dark characters wondering why they were intruding upon their grief.

  Adelaide leapt up out of her seat just as everyone’s eyes fell on the brigade of blue donned officers. She focused on Dagger, her eyes vigorous slits of intensity.

  “Alston, what is going on?”

  “This doesn’t concern you, Officer Llewellyn.” His tone surprised her, a cold front invading the voice she had known for years and years to an unrecognizable baritone as he slipped past her, scanning the crowd for his reason in coming.

  “Is there a particular reason you’re here, detective?” The man storming over to Dagger then was Mr. Jacobs, followed by his wife and their children. Straton and Sterling looked on with confused, blurry eyes as tears thrusted against the outside world, a grimy film threatening to burst at any given moment.

  “My apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, but this can’t wait.” Dagger flexed his eyes over to where Sumner’s former best friends sat hud-dled together with their families. He walked over to them, standing before where Mercer and Bridge sat with the rest of the Meadows family.

  “I’m sorry about this.” Dagger said, and it was evident that his sentiment was just and true when he looked at both Clay and Araec, but once his eyes fell on the young man sitting to their left, he was back to business mode, intent on fighting crime in every shape and form it happened to manifest. “Bridge Mathison, you’re under arrest for the murder of Blanche Baxxen.”

  He stood up in horror, Bridge staring at Dagger like he was pub-licizing that he was addicted to methamphetamine, like he was utter-ly insane and on his way to admit himself into a private room at Ar-clan, but it was spelt all over his face in highlighted letters. He truly believed what he was accusing Bridge of committing.

  “Are you crazy?” Clay said, standing up with him. “You come to this poor girl’s funeral and accuse—”

  “That’s enough, sir.” Dagger silenced him with a stare that could stop a speeding Ferrari. An officer came around to Bridge, handcuff-ing him as his friends came over in an uproar, their parents not far behind.

  “Detective, Bridge didn’t do this!” Mercer screamed, Kirby run-ning up to his side, looking on, terrified by what was happening.

  “Mom,” Salem said from a little distance, looking up at her. “You’re a lawyer, help him!”

  Maxima Simon sauntered over to the debacle, sifting through the shocked facades of the crowd in attendance as Clay and Araec, and really all of the other parents, glued their eyes to Maxima as the offic-ers started to push Bridge away from them and towards where Dag-ger stood a few feet from them.

  “You’re a lawyer?” Adelaide said, none of them really knowing how she had acquired the means to help save Arclan Asylum before hearing about her career.

  She didn’t speak to any of the parents, or Bridge’s friends, but in-stead yelled at him directly from behind the officers that were leading him away from the funeral. “Bridge, don’t say a word until
I get there.”

  As they watched their friend being shoved into the posterior of a cop car, Bridge’s friends all felt their previously silent phones buzz in unison, all of them receiving a message at that exact moment. Every-one was so distracted by the funeral being interrupted by the law that they backed away from the hysteria to glance at each other together.

  “All three of us?” Alex said, all of them pausing to look at their phones, seeing that the message was from a blocked number, which was way too ABC Family for them, considering that the person that they knew it must be from had been speaking to them in the form of letters, so that nothing could be electronically traced.

  The message was undoubtedly from the stalker, the person who knew about what they had done right after Sumner had tried to kill them at the cemetery. And its message was clear that they had been watching everything that had just happened, or maybe that they had even played a hand in making it happen, not to mention that this person was most likely the same person that had taken the pages from Bridge to begin with.

  It only takes one to bring the rest of you down. How long until he breaks and spills the truth?

  In true paranoid fashion, they looked around to see if someone was looking, their eyes finding the police car as it sputtered to a start, taking Bridge to the police station for a murder they all knew he didn’t commit. But one that the person who knew explicit infor-mation about the night at the cemetery could have framed him for.

  19

  IT’S HER

  I swear to you, I didn’t kill Blanche.”

  Five days. That’s how long it had been since Bridge had been arrested. Since then, Dagger had resolidified his belief that they were all helping Sumner. That they were dedicated to covering for him, even murdering for him if it came to it. Of course this wasn’t close to the truth, but Dagger wasn’t just convinced, he was obsessed. He needed them to be guilty, to be the ones behind everything that was going on in Armor Falls. Because if they were guilty, if they were the sick and twisted accomplices, then they could lead him to the real mastermind, the real killer; Sumner himself.