Where I Left Her

by Amber Garza

  The truth hit Lauren then like a slap to the face. Hard and fast, it left her reeling. How had she not seen it before? The missing piece wasn’t that Whitney was a lesbian, trying to seduce her mom. The truth was much more sinister than that.

  She steeled herself against this newfound knowledge, instantly aware that she had to keep it inside for now. She had to play it delicately. No room for error.

  This changed everything.

  “Why would you give it to the police, anyway?” Amelia asked, eyeing the journal and picking so viciously around her fingernails, the skin was dotted with blood. “Does it say anything about Bethany?”

  “Of course not. This was her diary from high school,” Lauren answered.

  “Then...it’s not relevant to this, is it?” Amelia pointed out, once again making it clear whose side she was on.

  Not Lauren’s.

  This entire charade had run its course. Lauren couldn’t keep pushing. Sharing. It was time for her and Amelia to leave.

  Still focused on the diary, Whitney tried again, reaching out her hand. “Can I please see the journal? I’ll give it back. I just really want to read it.”

  Lauren hesitated only a second. “Fine.” She thrust the diary in Whitney’s direction. The relief Whitney felt was palpable as she closed her fingers around it. It gave Lauren a sick sense of satisfaction. Whitney was stupid if she thought Lauren was giving up that easily. Of course, she wouldn’t hand over her only copy of her mom’s diary. She had photos of the whole diary hidden in a flash drive in her suitcase.

  Hope was written all over Whitney’s face, and Lauren couldn’t wait for the day when she could erase it. Wipe it away. This was far from over. Lauren knew the truth, and one day everyone else would too.

  “So, are we cool, then?” Lauren asked, capitalizing on the moment. “To go on our trip?”

  “Where exactly are you planning to stay?” Whitney asked, holding the diary close to her side, so tight her knuckles whitened, as if she was afraid it would leap out of her hand if she loosened her grasp.

  “We haven’t made an exact plan yet. We were gonna play it by ear,” Lauren said.

  Whitney’s fear-laced frown grew deeper. She turned away from them a moment, running a hand through her hair. She must’ve gotten a text or message because she took her phone out of her pocket, peered down at it.

  Lauren and Amelia exchanged a glance.

  When Whitney whirled around, she sighed. “Fine.”

  “For real?” Lauren blurted out. It wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting. Completely out of character, from what she’d seen of Whitney so far.

  “But I have some rules, Amelia,” Whitney said. “You have to finish out the school year. You two can take a few days, a week at most. Then you have to come back. Understand?”

  Amelia’s head bobbed up and down.

  “I’m trusting you,” Whitney added.

  “I know,” Amelia answered quietly, and it was then that Lauren saw what Whitney was up to. This was just another tactic to get Amelia back on her side. Too bad for Whitney, Lauren was better at manipulation. Whitney was no match for her.

  Facing Lauren, Whitney said, “And you can keep the money. I won’t say anything about it to the police.”

  “Seriously?” Amelia’s tone was both shocked and grateful.

  Nicely played, Whitney.

  Perhaps Lauren had underestimated her.

  “It was yours, anyway,” Whitney said, her attention back on Amelia. “I saved it for you, hoping to buy you a car for your sixteenth birthday, but your dad beat me to it.” Whitney tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “When you get back,” she said, throwing Amelia a pointed look, “and you finish out the year, maybe you two can plan some type of summer trip.” She paused, and Lauren saw her chest pull in as she forced a breath. “Possibly even take that trip to your dad’s.”

  Amelia’s face fell. “Dad,” she breathed out. “Will you have to tell him?”

  “Yes, but it’s been a long time coming,” Whitney said, and Lauren could read the turmoil in her expression. It was clear this wasn’t something she ever planned to do, and even though it wasn’t enough, it made Lauren slightly content. She liked seeing Whitney off-kilter. Unsure. Scared.

  “Do you think he’ll still want me to visit?” Amelia coiled a strand of hair around her index finger. “Still want me in his life?”

  “Oh, honey.” Whitney took a step forward, reached her arm out to touch Amelia’s. But Amelia moved away, and Whitney’s fingers simply grasped at the air, as if it was something she thought she could hold. “I think he’ll be very mad at me, but not at you. Not at all. He’ll always be your dad, no matter what.”

  The sentiment made Lauren’s skin crawl. Her dad would be hers no matter what, too, and that gave her no comfort. Again, she felt anger for being the one left. The one to carry this burden. This history. The family that Amelia was able to escape.

  Lauren had spent so many years being angry with the person responsible for taking away her sister. There was no way this woman, this stranger, could make her believe that was Lauren’s own mother.

  Amelia took a step toward Lauren and then hesitated, her gaze once again finding Whitney. Lauren froze. “What will you tell the police?”

  “That I found you.”

  “No, I mean...” Amelia looked around. “Will you have to tell them about me? Like about who I really am?”

  Whitney’s gaze flickered to Lauren. “I don’t think it’s necessary. Millie made the choice to give you to me. Like an adoption.”

  It was all lies.

  A few nights before her mom went to the hospital, she tucked Lauren in. Rubbing her big, pregnant belly, she told Lauren that she and her sister were the only things she cared about in this world. Then she promised that she’d always protect them.

  Those were not the words of a woman who would give up her child.

  As Lauren and Amelia walked away from Whitney, Lauren smiled at her sister, already imagining the two of them on the beach, toes buried deep in the sand. Whitney might believe that they’d be coming back, but Lauren had no intention of ever returning. This trip was more than a sisters’ getaway. It was clear that Amelia was already seeing cracks in Whitney’s story. It wasn’t going to take much before Lauren could open her eyes to the truth.

  But even if her attempt to get Amelia on her side failed, she would still take Whitney down. She’d get that DNA test. Gather all the necessary evidence. In her bag, she had a tiny tape recorder. As much as she intended to have a good time and get to know her sister, she wouldn’t squander their time. If Amelia said something helpful to her case, she’d capture it. Use it when she went to the police, which she fully intended to do once she had all the proof she needed. No matter what it took, she would make Whitney pay for what she’d done. She had to for her mom’s sake. To avenge her death. Clear up all the misconceptions.

  One thing she knew for sure, her mom would never have willingly left Lauren. Not even for Bethany. Another thing that only she knew: her mom had a plan. A way out. Information on Mitch that she planned to use, so they could be free. She didn’t feel trapped anymore.

  Death wasn’t her mom’s only way out, and there was no way she would’ve told Whitney that.

  “Time to go, Lauren.” Her dad nudged her in the arm.

  She scooted forward on the hospital bed, closer to her mom.

  But her mom nodded, smiled. “Go. Your sister and I will be home tomorrow.”

  “You promise?” Lauren raised her chin, stared into her mother’s eyes.

  “I promise.”

  * * *

  At ten, Amelia was invited to her first sleepover. Excitement had pulsed through her like the steady drumbeat of a pop song. She’d barely gotten in her mom’s car after school, before tearing the invitation out of her backpack and flashing it i
n the air.

  “Casey invited me to her slumber party!” The words burst from her throat like an explosion of candy from a piñata.

  Her mom had responded less enthusiastically. She pursed her lips. “I don’t think I know Casey. Do I?”

  “No...I...um...I don’t think so.” Amelia’s heart faltered.

  “Then it’s probably not a good idea.”

  Amelia’s heart sank. She should’ve known. Her mom said no to everything. Why couldn’t she have a cool mom like Casey’s?

  “But, Mo-o-om,” she whined. “Please.”

  “I’ve already made up my mind.”

  Usually, Amelia let these things go. She’d never known her mom to change her mind once it was made up. But the next day when all the girls were talking about the plans for the sleepover, she was infected with a major case of FOMO. That’s why when they asked her if she was coming, she said, “Of course.”

  That night at dinner, she begged her mom to the point she thought for sure she’d be in trouble. But to her surprise, her mom gave in.

  “Fine. But I need to talk to Casey’s mom ahead of time and make sure she’s going to be there the whole time.”

  Amelia’s cheeks preemptively burned with the embarrassment she knew she’d feel when Casey told everyone about this. And she for sure would. There was no way any of the other parents were going to act this way.

  Amelia had the most overbearing mom on the planet.

  But she was willing to endure it in order to attend the sleepover. So, she gave her mom the phone number. And to her shock, no one ever made fun of her for it. Maybe Casey’s mom hadn’t even told her about the phone call. Or maybe Amelia was wrong, and her mom wasn’t that different from other moms. Either way, she was grateful.

  But her biggest challenge was still ahead of her and it was one Amelia hadn’t anticipated. The evening of the sleepover, while Amelia packed up her overnight bag, nerves attacked her insides, a sudden flurry of ants coming up out of a mountain of dirt. She’d never spent the night at a friend’s house. Her mind was filled with all the unknowns. Where would she sleep? What if she had a nightmare? Got scared? What if the other kids were mean to her and she was stuck there? In that moment, she’d kind of wished her mom had stood her ground, continued to tell her no.

  She stopped packing, sat back on her heels, her knees tucked under her body, and she began to cry.

  “What’s wrong?” Her mom rushed in. As she knelt beside her, she touched her cheek, brushed a sticky strand of hair back. It felt good. Comforting.

  Amelia leaned into it.

  “Amelia?”

  Her gaze met her mom’s. “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  “You’ll be fine,” her mom assured her.

  Amelia frowned, unconvinced.

  Her mom tried again. “You’ve been looking forward to this all week. Casey’s mom said you guys are going to play games and have pizza and cake. You’ll have so much fun.”

  It did sound like fun. Amelia sniffed. “Promise?”

  A slight hesitation. Her mom breathed in, smoothed back Amelia’s hair again. “I’ll tell you what? You go to the sleepover and if you aren’t having fun, you can call me, and I’ll come get you. Anytime. Even if it’s three in the morning, I’ll be there.”

  The tightness in Amelia’s chest loosened a bit, but then she shook her head. She couldn’t call her mommy to come get her from the sleepover. Her friends would never let her live that down. “They’ll think I’m a baby.”

  Her mom’s eyes widened as if she’d had an epiphany. She snapped her fingers. “We’ll use a secret code. One between just the two of us.”

  “A code?” Amelia sat up, intrigued.

  Biting her lip, her mom glanced around the room. When she looked into the closet, a grin spread across her face. “Red jacket.”

  Amelia laughed, the memory surfacing.

  “It’s perfect. An inside joke. Something no one else would know,” her mom was talking fast now. Animatedly. “If you call me and use the phrase ‘red jacket’ I’ll make up some family emergency and come get you. Deal?”

  Amelia smiled. “Deal.”

  She didn’t need to use the code that night, but she did end up using it a handful of times over the years. And true to the agreement, her mom was there for her. Quickly. No questions asked.

  Lauren had spent the past few weeks trying to convince Amelia that her mom was evil. A criminal mastermind. A bad person.

  But she didn’t know her the way Amelia did.

  The woman who tucked her in countless nights, singing lullabies off-key, who came up with a secret code to make her feel safe, who held her, stroking her hair when she had a nightmare and who always had her back—she was not a monster.

  And there was no way Lauren could convince her otherwise.

  When she and Lauren first met, she’d been annoyed with her mom’s controlling tendencies. She’d been rebelling. Pulling away. And she shared a lot of her frustrations about her mom with her new friend. The girl she believed to be her age who she randomly met at a party. Lauren misread it, though, clearly thinking she could get Amelia on her side.

  Truth is, deep down she was mad at her mom. She’d been hoping Whitney would deny all the accusations, offer proof that she and Amelia were flesh and blood. It’s what she’d been expecting when her mom walked up to them in the cemetery today.

  But she didn’t do that. And her admission broke Amelia’s heart.

  Amelia didn’t hate her, though. She couldn’t. They’d been through too much.

  Lauren did.

  It was obvious in her expression. Her body language. Amelia was scared of what Lauren might do. Whatever she was planning, Amelia had to stop it. She believed her mom’s story. It seemed entirely plausible that this drug addict married to an abusive con artist would hand over her baby to her best friend—a woman with a stable life and a husband. Besides, Lauren had shared a lot about her childhood with Amelia. It sounded horrendous.

  Regardless of the circumstances, whether her mom was telling the truth or not, Whitney had saved her from that. Shouldn’t she be grateful?

  The thing that upset her the most was the lying. The secrets. Honesty had always been so important to her mom. She demanded it of Amelia. Turns out, Whitney had been the biggest liar of all. That was the main reason she couldn’t just go home with her mom right now. When she said she needed space, she meant from everyone. But when Lauren brought up the sisters’ trip again, she knew she had no choice but to go, especially after she threatened going to the police. Amelia may have spent a lot of time and energy being mad at her mom, but she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. The thought of her locked in a jail cell caused her heart to ache, her mouth to fill with bile.

  And that’s why she’d sent the text.

  While Lauren was pleading her case for the sisters’ trip, she discreetly pulled out her phone, typed two words.

  Red jacket.

  Pressed Send.

  Then she’d turned Find My Friends back on.

  Lauren may have thought that both Amelia and Whitney were giving in, but she was dead wrong. It had always been the two of them. Mother/daughter. A team. A partnership. No one was tearing them apart.

  Not even her so-called sister.

  Her mom had always had her back. Now it was her turn to have her mom’s.

  Peering over her shoulder, she caught the silhouette of her mom standing in the middle of the cemetery. Her hair flew around her face, caught in the wind. Smiling, she turned back around, warmth filling her. She had to keep Lauren close until she could figure out how to get rid of her for good. But she knew that no matter where they went, her mom wouldn’t be far behind them.

  Next to her, Lauren threaded her arm through Amelia’s. Her face beamed as if she’d already won.

  Amelia grinned back. Pretending. Mayb
e she was more like her mom than she’d thought.

  41

  SUNDAY, 9:30 A.M.

  FORTY AND A HALF HOURS

  AFTER DROP-OFF

  WHITNEY STOOD IN the center of the cemetery, a ghost lingering over the gravestones. She watched the girls’ backs as they retreated. Then she glanced down at her phone and logged in to the Find My Friends app. Amelia’s picture appeared on the map, moving away from her. Relief flowed through her chest. She lowered the phone, still holding it in her palm, its existence tethering her to Amelia.

  Red jacket.

  If not for that text, she never would’ve let Amelia leave. Even though a lot had changed in the past couple of days, she trusted her daughter. She had no other choice than to believe in their strong connection.

  Lauren had the power to take Whitney down. To destroy her life.

  But if Amelia was on her side, there was still hope.

  Staring down at Millie’s name, she drew in a ragged breath. She’d come here many times, but never knew what to say. Other people would stand at their loved ones’ gravesites, spilling all the words. But Whitney didn’t know how to talk to a piece of granite. Dirt. Grass. Millie wasn’t here. She’d just be talking to the air. All around her it was quiet and still. It seemed odd to think of Millie here. Millie, who had always been so full of life, in this place of death.

  Shivering, Whitney turned away, hurrying back to her car. First things first, she fished around in her glove compartment until she found a book of matches and a rag. Sitting down on the edge of the cement sidewalk that looped the parking lot, she struck one of the matches, watching the flame dance in front of her eyes. Then she picked up the diary. When Lauren had first handed it to her, she’d been curious about the contents, wondering what Millie had written about her.

  But reading it wasn’t an option. Not now.

  Besides, Millie was gone.

  Buried. Dead. And that’s where Whitney would leave her.

  Holding the match to the bottom right corner of the diary, she watched the flames lick up the thick paper covers and move quickly to the pages inside. As heat licked the tip of her fingers, she dropped the journal onto the cement, allowing it to burn down. As it faded to ashes, she thought about Lauren’s words.