by Katie Sise
“What are you doing here?” Haley asked him, unable to hide her surprise.
Dean flinched, which was what he always did when she’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Not that she’d ever caught him doing anything terrible, but even little things: like if she walked in on him checking his phone when he’d told her he just needed to change clothes. She’d always thought it was sort of cute, but now it put a pit in her stomach. “I came to see Josie as soon as I could,” he said, his voice all business, like Josie was a client or a coworker he was checking on, which was true in a way. It wasn’t like Dean and Josie were close; it was Haley who’d developed a friendship with Josie. And that’s why Haley was so surprised Dean would even feel comfortable enough to come here without her. “But why didn’t you call me first?” she pressed. No one spoke, and the way Dean was looking at her made her realize how petty she was being to nag him with Josie lying there in a hospital bed. “Sorry,” she muttered. She crossed the tiny room to stand next to Josie and put a hand on her forearm. She still looked like a wreck with her matted hair and deathly pale skin. “How are you feeling?” Haley asked softly.
“I’m okay,” Josie managed.
Chris moved closer to Josie, and something about it struck Haley as too territorial. And then Noah said, “She’s not okay, because today she was stabbed by some maniac.”
Haley recoiled, unsure of why his anger seemed to be directed at her. “What’s the latest from the doctor?” she asked. She’d grown adept at redirecting difficult family members in the hospital—recently one of the residents had commented on her ability to defuse tension, and the compliment had made her month.
No one spoke. Dean glanced at Noah like he should be the one to share any news, but he didn’t, and in the silence Haley lost her ability to stay calm and rational. “So where were you guys today?” she blurted at Noah and Chris. “The cops said they couldn’t find you.”
“I was showing a client a home, and I didn’t have service,” Noah said, and before Chris could answer, Noah asked, “Are you accusing us of something?”
The room went still. Chris cleared his throat. Dean said, “I think we need to calm down and stick together.”
“Stick together?” Haley repeated, incredulous. “What are you talking about?” She stared at Dean, trying to recalibrate.
Josie chewed at the edge of a fingernail, and Noah’s sour expression faded. Chris wouldn’t look at any of them. “Your professor Brad,” Dean started, the slightest waver in his voice. “He was a teaching assistant ten years ago at Yarrow. Your sister was sleeping with him.”
Haley felt blood drain from her face. Dean reached for her hand, but she didn’t take it. “No way,” she said, not because she couldn’t believe it, but because something this big had never been uncovered during the course of the investigation. Emma had been sleeping with a teacher at the university?
“She was sneaking around with him,” Dean went on. “And they were definitely in some kind of relationship when she disappeared.”
“Are you absolutely sure?” Haley asked, holding on to the rail of Josie’s bed like an anchor.
“We’re sure,” Dean said, exchanging a look with Josie. “Brad never came forward or told the cops, obviously. But you know his wife, Priya, who he was with at the open house today? She taught Emma and Josie art at school. Priya and Brad weren’t married when Emma disappeared, but they were engaged.”
“But how did you find this out?” Haley asked, her thoughts racing. “The police?”
Josie burst into tears. They fell over her cheeks, and she tried to sweep them away with shaking hands. “You’re going to hate me, Haley, I’m so, so sorry,” she said, crying even harder. She flinched as though the crying hurt her wound, and Haley wondered what kind of painkillers she was on—she seemed so lucid given what she’d gone through.
Chris and Noah moved closer to Josie, their synchronicity jarring to Haley. Chris got there first. He lowered himself onto the bed and put a hand on Josie’s arm. “Please calm down, Josie,” he said. “It was such a long time ago.”
“Maybe for you it was,” Haley spat, her cheeks burning. “Maybe you guys have all gotten over Emma’s disappearance; good for you.” Beeping monitors filled an awkward silence. What was wrong with all of them? She whirled around to glare at Dean. “I don’t get it, Dean. How did you find out about this? Did you know something about it before today?”
Dean tried to take her hand. “Of course I didn’t know anything about your sister and Brad,” he said.
“I’m sorry I kept this from you,” Josie was saying through tears as Chris held her arm, “and from the police, from everyone. I just honestly thought your sister killed herself, like everyone else thought. The last thing I wanted was for her reputation to be dragged down, too.”
Haley’s insides were twisting thinking of her sister and Brad, who must have been in his late twenties at the time. “Was Brad the one who gave her that bracelet?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Josie said, like it was nothing, just another thing she knew about Emma that Haley didn’t. Haley bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood. Chris was still staring at his hands, but Dean and Noah were watching Josie carefully. “Haley,” Josie said, lifting her eyes, looking so indescribably sad when she said, “your sister was pregnant.”
Haley’s hands flew to cover her face, and then she couldn’t stop herself from shrieking at Josie. “How could you not have gone to the police with this?” She leaned toward Josie, and then Chris lunged forward to restrain her, which infuriated her further because obviously she wasn’t going to hurt Josie. “Stay away from me!” Haley hissed at Chris as he raised his hands to grab her arms.
“Get your hands off her,” Dean said to Chris, his voice low.
Chris backed off, and Noah said, “Haley, listen, we all loved your sister, don’t you see that?”
“And we were kids back then,” Chris said, sounding so slick and sure of himself, like any of this was even close to excusable.
“So what?” Haley growled. “You’re not kids now. You could have told the police any time during the past decade what you knew about my sister sleeping with a teacher who was engaged, and Emma being pregnant!”
Josie cried harder. Haley didn’t care. “Tell me you didn’t know anything about my sister being pregnant,” Haley said to Dean.
“Not until a few minutes before you did,” Dean said, calmer now. His gaze seemed surer, as though the ground was getting steadier.
“Your sister was my best friend,” Josie said, but she sounded like she was trying to convince herself. She swiped at a piece of blond hair flecked with blood. “Why would I ever tell anyone her secrets?”
“Because they make her death seem suspicious,” Haley said. “And you said nothing.”
Dean stood there, his face changing again. Haley was pretty sure she’d never seen him look like this, his expression so anguished and tortured.
“Josie’s coming forward with it now, and it’s better late than never,” Chris said. Haley looked at Josie, at the way her normally olive skin looked yellow, her eyes bloodshot. Keep it together, Haley. “Do you think Brad or Priya killed my sister?” she asked Josie.
Josie nodded, and said, “I do, Haley. I think Brad did.” Haley tried to swallow, but she felt like she was being choked. The hospital air was too hot, too thick.
“Brad and Priya aren’t our clients,” Chris said, his fingers working at a small tear on the arm of his flannel shirt. “We’ve never worked with them on a house.”
“But couldn’t they have been there to see an open house like anyone else?” Haley asked.
“It’s a small town,” Noah said, agitated as he moved a hand over his face. “We have no records of them ever coming to see one of our properties. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“And who else could it be?” Josie asked, still crying. “Who would have attacked me if not Brad, or even Priya could have attacked me if she were trying to shut me up
about what Brad did. I’ve talked to Priya over the past years about everything, and I’ve always really liked her, and I don’t think she would ever try to hurt me, but I also feel like I don’t know anything anymore. If Brad and Priya heard the cops were reopening the case—and people talk in this town—then they have all the motive in the world to shut me up. They both know that I know Brad was sleeping with Emma before she disappeared.”
Dean’s dark eyes were wide and hollow. Noah looked down into his hands. Haley stared at all three of them, and as her gaze settled on Chris, a chill passed over her skin. Something wasn’t right.
“Do you have proof?” Haley asked.
“Proof?” Noah asked. “You don’t believe her?”
“I believe her,” Haley said. Her toes scrunched against the insides of her boots as she tried to ground herself. “But I also want the cops to.”
“There’s a pregnancy test,” Josie said.
“And you have it?” Dean asked, barely able to mask how horrified he was.
“Where is it, Josie?” Haley asked. “We need to give it to the police.”
“I already did,” Josie said. “Well, I mean, I didn’t exactly hand it over, but I told them where it was in our house. They searched our house today after everything that happened this morning. Noah says it looks like its own crime scene.”
“But as far as the cops know, couldn’t it just be your pregnancy test?” Dean asked.
“It’ll have Emma’s DNA all over it,” Haley said. She swallowed hard, trying to stop her imagination from picturing her sister all alone, taking a pregnancy test and finding out she was pregnant. Why hadn’t she told Haley what was happening to her? “Did she tell you back then, Josie?” Haley asked, trying to will herself not to cry again. “Or did you find the test after she disappeared?”
“She told me,” Josie said, and jealousy flashed through Haley with such fury it was hard to hide it. Her fingertips tapped her legs in an erratic rhythm. She wanted to ask how Josie got hold of the test and why, but the whole thing felt so macabre. “How do you know the baby was Brad’s?” she asked instead, the tapping growing so wild she knew the others saw it.
Noah averted his eyes from her. “I don’t!” Josie said. “That’s part of the reason I never turned in the pregnancy test, because the last thing I wanted was for her to be known as the girl who was pregnant and didn’t even know who the father was, the girl who plunged to her death to escape it all.” Josie sobbed harder, and Noah jumped in, saying, “That’s enough, Haley. For God’s sake, you’re studying to become a doctor. I’m pretty sure this kind of stress isn’t good for anyone in her condition.”
“Then why don’t you answer my question, Noah?” Haley snapped.
“I didn’t kill your sister,” Noah said, his words eerily calm, like he was explaining a math problem to a child, “and I didn’t try to kill my wife today.”
“You’re still not answering her question, Noah,” Dean said.
“What I’m asking you,” Haley said, her voice a whisper, “is if the baby could have been yours.”
Josie looked up at Noah, her eyes wide. “You don’t have to do this,” she said.
“I think he does,” Dean said. He reached out his hand and took Haley’s, and she steadied herself for whatever she was about to hear.
THIRTY-FIVE
Emma
Ten years ago
We stumble once more, and then Brad rolls off me and onto his back. His breathing is so heavy he’s almost gasping. For a second I think he’s having some kind of heart attack, but then I remind myself he’s not really that old. “What is wrong with you?” I ask, still so unsure of what just happened, trying to digest the fact that someone I was sleeping with just tried to attack me. My lungs are still burning when I ask, “Were you trying to hurt me?”
He’s just lying there with a hand over his chest. I can see the rise and fall of his parka, the zipper sticking straight up in the air. “No,” he finally says. “Obviously not.”
“Obviously not?” I glare at him. “You just pushed me down.”
“I was trying to get the pregnancy test back. I panicked, okay? Rational thought dictates that you could just take another one.” He turns onto his side with a muffled sound, and it occurs to me that maybe he hurt himself when we fell. I sit a little closer. Branches scratch at my arms, and tiny rocks and twigs poke my butt. “The baby isn’t yours,” I say, trying to get remotely comfortable in the brush.
He looks at me with bewilderment all over his face, and then pulls himself up to sit. We’re both sitting cross-legged like two campers at a campsite about to roast marshmallows and tell ghost stories. “Then why did you act like it was?” he asks.
My heart is still pulsing in my ears from the struggle, my blood too hot as it swirls through me. “I don’t know,” I say, suddenly filled with so much shame. I run my fingers over a smattering of stones between us, wanting to feel anything other than this feeling. “Probably because I wanted to hurt you back.”
When Brad reaches forward, I see dirt on his hands, and maybe blood, but it’s too dark to be sure. He almost touches me, but he must think better of it because his hand freezes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says.
“You have a fiancée—a pregnant one, no less—and you slept with me anyway,” I say.
He shakes his head, and a strand of strawberry-blond hair falls in front of his eyes. “I’m messed up,” he says.
“We’re all messed up,” I say, starting to stand, because the ground beneath us is too cold, and I need to leave this place, to find Noah and Josie. Even seeing Chris right now would be a welcome relief. My legs are aching as I straighten up, and I think about Noah and wonder if I love him. I’ve never loved anyone before except my family members. College would be easier if I’d ever had a serious boyfriend, but my parents were so strict about me dating. Maybe I’m doing it all wrong.
“Are you going to keep the baby?” Brad asks, rising, too.
It’s weird that he doesn’t ask me whose it is, but the undergrad boys are probably all the same to him. “I think so,” I say. And then, when I add, “I hope so,” I’m struck with the saddest, most lonely feeling. I think of Chris and Josie, and how they were all alone until they ended up in the same family, and I think of how they would protect each other over anyone else.
Family. The truth is that this baby is my family—and it’s maybe the only truth I know for sure, the only one that matters. I swallow down tears and manage to say, “I need to go, Brad. I need to find my friends.”
“Goodbye, Emma,” he says.
“Goodbye,” I say. We don’t touch, not even to embrace. I turn and walk carefully back to the trail.
THIRTY-SIX
Priya
What the hell was that?” Brad asked when he bounded onto the porch.
Priya didn’t answer, and a moment later Brad collapsed onto the chair across from her and let his head fall into his hands. “Did you tell the detectives about our history with Emma and Josie?” he asked before raising his eyes to look at her. “Did they ask you?”
“Our history with Emma?” Priya repeated, curling her hand around the arm of the wicker sofa, pressing hard against it with her fingertips and bitten nails.
“Yes, our history with Emma,” Brad said. “Emma as your student—Emma as my lover.”
Priya’s jaw dropped. “Your lover,” she said, tasting the word and all the things it meant. Shadows fell across the porch’s floor, mostly in the shape of foliage, and Priya’s eyes landed on her cold-weather plants, the catmint and prickly wintergreen boxwoods.
“Stop repeating my words, Priya,” Brad said. “This is serious.”
“I’m aware of how serious this is,” Priya hissed, inhaling the smell of mint. Elliot could be back any minute, and where would that leave them? “I’m also aware that the mess you made all those years ago still haunts us now. So before you start questioning me, I’d just like to ask you, once and for all: How much of a mess did
you make back then?”
Brad blinked. “What are you talking about?” he asked. The collar of his oxford shirt was stained with something that looked like coffee. Had he really been relaxed enough back at the precinct to accept the cops’ offers of coffee?
“Did you kill Emma?” she asked, the words like marbles dropping on a hard floor.
Disbelief contorted Brad’s face. Priya waited. The plants seemed to take on dark, ominous shapes, as though they were threatening to outgrow their pots and twine around her ankles, keeping her trapped and tethered to this place.
“I can’t believe you just asked me that,” Brad finally said into the chilled air between them. “Didn’t you believe me years ago when I told you I didn’t?”
Priya’s body felt on fire with nerves, her hands making fists against her legs. Brad stood too slowly. A candle flickered on the side table next to him, glistening amid a squat stack of coffee table books. “Do you really think I could hurt Emma?” he asked, seeming so genuinely offended that she was taken aback. “Priya,” he said, stepping closer to her. “Is that what you’ve always thought?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “But after today . . .”
“You think I stabbed Josie? You think I killed a girl ten years ago, and that for some reason, today, I tried to kill her former roommate? You think I’m a serial killer, is that right?” He was coming closer, his gait unsteady, unfamiliar.
Priya bit her lower lip. It sounded ridiculous when he said it like that. “People do unimaginable things,” she said, stalling. “Maybe Emma was going to out you to your bosses at Yarrow. You would’ve had your career ruined.”
“I’m a doctor; my job is to protect people!” Brad said, still so incredulous. “You think I would kill someone to protect my career? I took an oath! Don’t you think that means anything to me?”