Page 104 of Before We Fell

My throat hurt too much to drink so instead she decorated my house for Christmas while I moped on the couch, feeling everything, everything I had begun to hold so dearly to my heart, shatter into unrecognizable pieces.

Merry freaking Christmas.

Sunday, I did more moping. Read through my parents’ texts.

Travis was getting out of the hospital Monday. His arraignment was on Tuesday.

I couldn’t find it in me to give a damn. He should be in prison. He should have been hung. Publicly. His life was over practically before his teenage years began and he was finally reaping the consequences for over a decade of living in filth.

I ended up taking the week off work. There was no way I was prepared to return to school, face the judgmental looks from teachers and administration.

“Oh, your brother’s the druggie who shot our beloved Krystal and Keith’s daughter and husband?”

No thank you. I needed time before I faced that firing squad.

Did it make me a coward?

Possibly.

Did I care?

Only because I missed the kids.

Especially Riley.

Wednesday came.

According to my parents, Travis was charged with two counts of first-degree murder. His bond was so high, my parents had the audacity to ask me if I’d dip into my savings to help them. Even with the money I could have given them, which I wouldn’t have, it wouldn’t have been enough. So he was currently sitting in jail, awaiting trial which I was told would be three months from the date of his arraignment.

My parents were livid when I refused to help. I told them never to call me again. Then I promptly blocked their number.

Later that day, Brooke called me. Asked if I needed anything, said she was thinking of me…and oh yeah, Riley had been pulled from school to spend the rest of the year being homeschooled by her grandparents.

I hadn’t even considered what would happen with school. But of course,obviously, she wouldn’t return to my class.

But what did that mean for her and Noah? Would they stay in town?

How could I show my face in town again, at the risk of running into either of them or Keith and Krystal?

Thursday came, and I couldn’t remember the last day I’d showered. Or made my bed. Or thrown a dish into the dishwasher. In fact, I wasn’t entirely certain when the last meal I ate was.

Probably a week ago at Thanksgiving.

Had it been a whole week? My brain was too clouded.

A week. A week since my world and Noah’s and Riley’s worlds imploded and there was nothing left but ash and misery.

I hoped they were okay. I prayed this brought their family closure. I prayed for Riley, that she would finally be able to start putting all of the last wretched year of life in her past and begin healing.

Hopefully, at least, Travis gave them that.

I was on my couch, curled under my favorite Christmas quilt I’d bought from Tinley’s mom, Cathy a few years ago, watching mindless reality television, staring off into space when my doorbell rang.

The sound jolted me. And for a moment, a flash of Thanksgiving night sparked in my mind’s eyes before I squeezed my eyes shut to erase the image.

The high-pitched ding went off again and I flung off the quilt, trudged to the door. Tinley was working, still in her own head about Gavin’s dad being ill, and my feeble attempts over the weekend to connive her to go see them again crashed and burned.

“Coming!” I called out and almost didn’t recognize my own voice. Was it dry from lack of use? Or all the tears I’d shed in a week?

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