The officer stared at me for a long time, studying me. “And what do you think you did wrong?”
“I woke up in the middle of the backyard after the party, and I have no idea how I got there!” I was sobbing uncontrollably now, like a can of worms had finally popped open. All the fear, confusion, and panic that I had been bottling up came flowing out. The officer reached across the table and handed me a tissue. I took it gratefully. “I would never want anyone to hurt Leah. All I’ve ever wanted was to love her and keep her safe. But…what if I hurt her?”
“Do you think that’s what happened?” Officer Valoreo asked. He narrowed his eyes, but gazed at me with compassion, as if he was more concerned than suspicious.
“I don’t know what to think,” I said, then blew my nose into my tissue.
“Just try to calm down.” The policeman could clearly sense my fear and hysteria. “We’ve already confirmed that you were still at the house when Rob and Leah left.”
“What?” I asked in a trembling voice. “Are you sure?”
The officer nodded. “One of the girls at the party posted on her instagram story at 4:30 a.m. It was a picture of you, asleep on the couch.”
“W-Why would anyone do that?”
“To make fun of you, I suppose. Isn’t that what kids do when they’re at a party? They think it’s funny when someone’s throwing up or passed out on the floor.”
A swell of relief came over me like a tidal wave. I exhaled and dabbed at my eyes with my tissue.
The officer examined me for a moment. “You know…I can’t help but notice that you seem quite a bit unraveled. I can see it all over your face. Is there something you’re afraid of?”
I shook my head slowly. The sound of a crowbar smashing my window sliced into my memory. The way the man yanked me out of my car and pinned me down. His eyes were alive and hot with fury, like he was prepared to kill me. “No,” I muttered. “No. I’m not afraid.”
“Anyone try to threaten you?” he asked. “Make you feel guilty? Try to convince you to confess?”
“No.”
The man’s gaze lingered on my face, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. “Alright. Well, please come back if you have any new information. Anything is helpful.”
I nodded and managed to force a polite smile, despite the puffiness around my red-rimmed eyes.
On my way home from the station, I stopped at Joe Canal’s liquor store. It was one o’clock in the afternoon, but I didn’t care. My nerves were alive and set on edge, rendering every muscle in my body stiff. My neck ached and I’d had a pounding headache for the last week. Lately, Tylenol wasn’t enough to dull the ache that pulsated at my temples. I needed a suppressant to take the edge off.
I purchased a bottle of Kasser’s vodka because it was the cheapest and the first option on the shelf that caught my eye. I thanked the cashier—at least I thought I did—but I might have forgotten. My head was in a daze.
Once in the car, I twisted off the cap and took a sip. I grimaced, but willed myself to swallow it down without gagging. After my third shot, my head was swimming. I felt light, like I had just lifted a considerable weight off of my chest. The buzz felt like submerging into a pool after sitting in oppressive heat all day.
I placed the open bottle of vodka in the center cup holder.
Then, I started the engine.
Chapter Twelve - Five Years Prior
Leah’s voice hummed through the speaker of my flip phone, smooth as silk and sweet like honey.
“I can’t wait to see you tonight,” she said in a voice as low as a whisper. Every fiber in my body ached to touch her. I’d barely seen her in the last two weeks. All my time and energy had been invested in preparing for college: scheduling my classes, purchasing textbooks, packing my belongings, and setting up dorm arrangements. My roommate was a girl named Rosie. I hadn’t met her in person yet, but we’d been messaging back and forth on Facebook for the last several days. She seemed nice enough, if not a little hyper energetic and seemingly boy crazy. She was a journalism major from Philadelphia. Since I wouldn’t know anyone else on campus, I hoped that she would be the first friend I’d make.
“I’m on my way out the door,” I replied to Leah as I strode toward the foyer. “I’m dying to put my hands all over you.”
Desire fueled Leah’s voice. “Oh really?”
“Of course. I’ve been missing you like crazy all week. I—”
My voice was suddenly cut off when I slammed into my dad, who was standing in the hallway between the kitchen and the front door of the house. His arms were crossed, and he wore a stern look on his face.
“Did you forget something?” he asked.
“Uh. No?” I replied, confused.
He shifted his gaze toward my mom as she sat at the kitchen table, her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly in front of her. There was a middle-aged man across from her, dressed in a suit and tie and his hair combed over with gel.
“Shit,” I murmured, then shuffled away so I could finish my phone conversation with Leah. “God. Babe, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot that I have to meet with a networking coordinator.”
“A what?” she asked.
“This guy from the university who knows both my parents. He runs a bunch of networking events for business majors.”
“Business majors?” Leah inquired. “I thought you were majoring in journalism.”
“I’m undeclared for now,” I said. I peered over my shoulder and snuck a peak at my parents. Their eyes were glued to me while they waited for me to get off the phone. “I’ll explain later. I’ll make this quick. I promise.”
After hanging up the phone, I turned toward my dad. He stood watching me, his eyes narrow and firm. Between him and my mom, it was hard to decide which one I was more terrified of. They were both cold in their own ways. My mom always kept her voice edged and sharp with a tone of icy politeness. My dad, on the other hand, was more forthright in his aggression. His thoughts of disapproval were eminent on face, making me cower below him and speak in a meek voice.
“Can this please be quick, Dad?” I asked carefully. “This is the last night I’ll get to see Leah before I leave.”
“That’s your fault, not ours,” my dad replied. “We’ve been telling you to write this down on your calendar for weeks. If you lack the responsibility to remember one meeting, how will you be prepared to live on a college campus on your own?”
“But—”
“Sit down,” he barked.
With a deep groan, I obeyed.
The man across the table spoke for an entire hour about the different networking programs that the university offered. While I was grateful that my parents were willing to arrange the meeting for my own sake, I couldn’t help but watch the clock. I’d promised Leah we would spend my last night home with her. After all, once I left for college, it would be at least two months until I saw her again.
As the meeting was finally wrapping up, the man slipped a pile of papers into a neatly organized folder for me. “Here are the dates and times of all the events for this year,” he said, his eyes crinkling through his reading glasses. “Like I said, you’ll want to keep an eye on connections to big tech companies. Marketing positions within those corporations offer a high starting salary, and most jobs are 9-5.”
“Great,” I said, trying to hide the boredom from my voice.
“Pleasure meeting you,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’ll be seeing you around campus, I presume?”
“Can’t wait,” I replied.
When the man left, I sat beside my mother at the table while my dad paced around the kitchen, his dress shoes clicking against the marble tiles. There was a round clock above the refrigerator. My eyes flickered toward it intermittently, no matter how hard I tried to focus.
“You’re disinterested,” my dad observed. That familiar look of disapproval crossed his features.
“I have the papers right here,” I said, holding up the folder that was hand
ed to me. “I won’t miss a single networking event.”
My mom eyed me speculatively. “Not unless it interferes with your classes.”
“Don’t even tell her that,” my dad said to her. “She’ll use it as an excuse to hangout with friends or…girlfriends.”
My mom nodded in agreement, then turned toward me. “I know you’re too young to appreciate everything you have, but Danielle, I hope you realize what is expected of you.”
“I know,” I said, my mouth moving on autopilot. Conversations like this one were like a broken record, replaying on a loop until my parents’ words lost their power. They repeated themselves so often that I could predict every conversation before it even happened.
“You’re a Kent,” my father added. “We have class, dignity, and sophistication in this family. We work hard, and we pass on those same values to the next generation.”
“Got it,” I said. I rose from my chair, but the sudden slam of my dad’s hand against the kitchen counter startled me. I sat back down and stiffened.
“Do you?” he asked, his face suddenly crimson with anger. “Clearly, you don’t. Going to college isn’t just about taking classes. It’s about getting involved, maintaining a high GPA, and joining networking events so that you can make connections with business executives.” He stormed toward the table and stood over me. “You’re not an average girl, Danielle. You’re exceptional. Your coaches saw it, your teachers saw it, and your college professors will see it too. When will you see it?”
“Tom.” My mother lifted a hand to her husband to calm him. “Relax, will you? Danielle will do fine.”
My dad exhaled sharply, hands on his hips, and continued pacing around the kitchen. “We had reminded her about this meeting ten times. Ten times!”
“It was once,” I mumbled to myself.
My father’s sharp gaze swiveled toward me. “Be quiet!” he shouted. “It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve reminded you. You should’ve written it down, but you didn’t. You were too busy talking on the phone with your friend and forgetting about the responsibilities that lay ahead.”
Girlfriend, I wanted to say, but bit my tongue. I didn’t dare to open my mouth in protest again.
The three of us sat in heated silence for another minute. I watched the clock. It’s metallic tic filled the room, beating like a pulse over my father’s heavy breathing and my mother’s impatient finger tapping.
Eventually, after I offered several apologies and promised to be more responsible, they gave me permission to leave. I fled from the table as soon as I was allowed. I offered a rehearsed, “Be home by ten!” before slipping out the door. My parents exchanged an uneasy glance as I left, and I assumed that later, they’d fall into a heated discussion about my life.
Grateful to finally escape, I shut the front door behind me and skipped across the long and winding cobblestone driveway. Leah’s red truck was parked idly at the curb, it’s engine droning dully in waiting.
When I jumped into the passenger seat, I greeted Leah with a kiss. She recoiled away from me.
“Don’t do that while we’re still in front of your house,” she hissed. “Your dad will beat me to death with a fly swatter.”
I snorted. “Why a fly swatter?”
“Because they think I’m a pest.”
“Mm. That may be true, but that’s because they don’t see you for what you’re worth.”
Leah cracked a smile at that. She was dressed in her usual loose flannel, her hair coiled into a braid, leaving a few wavy strands hanging around her face. I breathed in her clean scent, my eyes closed and my heart full.
“So what happened back there?” she asked as she steered her car along the residential street. Colossal homes were on either side of us, standing erect by tall white pillars and expansive lawns. She turned right onto Egg Harbor road, toward the Route 42 exit.
“I told you,” I said. “I just had to sit down and meet with a networking coordinator. It was the most dreadfully boring hour of my life.”
“But…why do your parents think you’re majoring in business?”
I crossed my arms and slumped down in the passenger seat. “I’m just not ready to tell them the truth yet. My major is undeclared for now. It shouldn’t matter, since my freshman classes are all prerequisites. Next semester, I’ll meet with my advisor and I’ll change my major. My parents don’t have to know about it.”
“What’s wrong with telling your parents that you want to be a reporter?” Leah asked. “I mean, most parents would be thrilled to know that their child is pursuing a career like that. It’s not like you’ll be scrubbing dishes like me. Do you really think it’s worth it to lie about that?”
“I think it’s all the traveling that’ll make my parents uncomfortable,” I said. “I don’t want to be a reporter for a mainstream news network. If I can do it…I mean…really become an established reporter, I want to tell my audience the truth…independently of the corporate press. I’ll leave this town and expand my horizons, interview people from all walks of the earth. There’s so much more to life than this…” I gestured toward the brightly lit mansions that flashed past us as we drove. “This bubble.”
Leah turned away from the road and met my eyes briefly. “I’m sorry you have to hide that from your parents.”
“Don’t act so shocked. You know how they are.”
“True,” she replied ruefully.
“Where are we going, anyway?” I asked as mansions disappeared from view and flat farmland consumed our surroundings.
Leah hesitated. “There’s something I wanna show you,” she said. “There are some things about my past that I want you to understand. I can’t let you leave for college without truly knowing me.”
Leah took my hand, held it, and slipped our joined hands onto her lap. I stiffened in my seat, filled with both excitement and uncertainty. I had no idea where Leah planned on taking us, but I hoped that wherever we were going, I’d learn more about her. Because as open to love and acceptance as Leah was, she often pushed me away when I asked about her childhood. She was always so supportive of me, but dodged questions that were directed toward her. It hurt me deeply to think that she wanted to hide pieces of herself from me. It was no secret that I had fallen in love with Leah, and I was itching to be allowed access into her past. I had no doubt that I’d only love her more.
The drive took about twenty minutes. We headed straight into the country. A barren land of nothingness stretched out on either side of us. The full moon shined brilliantly in the night sky, casting a silver glow on the flat plains around us.
When Leah finally guided her truck to a stop, I fixed my gaze curiously at what looked like a dark, abandoned motel. It was two stories tall, with cracked siding, moss infesting the roof, and a shattered welcome sign that read, “Motel 6.” Through the windshield, the building loomed silently over us like a lost memory. Summer crickets and locusts hummed in the dark wilderness all around.
“What is this place?” I asked.
Leah pulled her keys out of the ignition. “This was my dad’s motel. He owned a chain of them. This one closed down shortly after he died.”
“Why did you want to come here?” I asked.
Leah smiled deviously. “I still have a key to get inside. You’re leaving for college any day now. When will we have another chance to be alone?”
My heartbeat quickened. I held out my hand to her. “Take me away.”
We stepped out of the car and I followed Leah toward the entrance. After sliding the key into the entrance lock, Leah pushed through the revolving front door, which twisted and groaned with rust. Stale, musty air entered my lungs as we entered the empty, pitch-black motel lobby. All the windows were closed, thickening the darkness around us.
Leah turned on the flashlight of her phone, allowing slight visibility. “Follow me,” she whispered.
Clutching her arm, I followed close behind, careful not to step on broken glass or nails. She guided me through a narrow h
all with numbered doors. When we reached door number seven, she stopped and slowly turned the knob.
Inside, a maroon quilt had been laid down on the bare floor with rose petals peppered across it. There was no furniture in the room—only a soft lantern that filled the room with a dim, flickering glow. The room contained one single window, which was pushed open a crack, allowing the summer air to waft inside.
“Oh, Leah…” I said softly, slinging my arm around her waist.
She grinned warmly and took a seat on the quilt. I lowered myself onto the floor next to her. Nervousness flooded me. I’d been alone with Leah countless times, but never like this. Tonight, we were utterly alone. Silence emanated for miles around us. The only two people that seemed to exist were her and I, which called for endless freedom and possibilities. As she laid down beside me, those possibilities amplified in my mind, bringing a swarm of heat to my cheeks. She traced her finger soothingly along my thigh. My imagination wandered to deep and exciting places. I was eager to know where she’d touch me next.
I cleared my throat. “So, your dad owned this place?” I asked.
“For decades,” she replied with a nod. “The business was never booming, but it was steady. This was his livelihood. I used to spend entire weekends here. I’d even work the front desk for him sometimes, which is kinda funny, come to think of it.” She chuckled lightly, bringing light wrinkles to the corners of her eyes. “He trusted a ten year old to check people into their rooms. But before he died…me, him, and my mom were a team. My mom managed the maintenance side of things. Not just cleaning the rooms, but hiring staff, managing upkeep, inventory, and business overhead. I wanted to be a help so badly that I got excited when my parents let me plant flowers in the garden out front. It was my own little way of being part of something that mattered. Something that brought all of us together.”
I watched as Leah spoke, taking note of her wistful expression. The way her eyes wandered blankly, looking at nothing in particular, but remembering.
“Go on,” I said softly, tangling my fingers within hers.
She squeezed my hand lightly. “I know I have a hard time talking about how I grew up. You probably think it’s because my childhood was awful, but actually, it wasn’t. It was good.” Her lips quivered, making me wonder if she was going to shed a tear, but her expression stilled. “My dad had an aneurysm that took his life in a single day. Seconds, actually. That’s how long it usually takes. I was in middle school at the time. Everything was broken afterward. Everything. My entire world and everything that I knew. My family, my home, my life.” Leah’s right hand tightened into a fist. “You could see in my mom’s eyes that she was never coming back. The way she used to look at me, like I was the hope that lighted up her world…it all went dark. Once my dad passed, she looked at me like she didn’t even see me. Eventually, the motel closed down and my mom just…faded away.” Tears glistened her eyes. “I swear, she’s hated me ever since. It’s like I remind her of what was lost.”
Shelter in the Dark Page 8