Page 134 of Saving Her

I close my eyes and stiffen against a surge of guilt.

“Penny?” she repeats, this time frantic.

“She’s here,” Sarah answers. “She’s listening. I think she’s finding it hard to speak.”

I suck in a breath, dragging air deep into my lungs, praying for strength. All those emotions Sarah mentioned are right there—the guilt, the sorrow. They’re banging on the walls of my anger, trying to get in.

“Oh, God, Penny,” Nina sobs. “I don’t know what happened. Abi was excited to go home. She wanted this so much. It doesn’t make sense.”

“So it’s true?” I whisper. “She’s dead.”

I need to hear it, just once, from a reliable source. From someone I trust.

“Yes.”

I open my eyes and blink away the sear of unshed tears. I can’t cry. I won’t.

“B-Benji took us there this morning,” she stammers. “We watched from the end of the street as the police wheeled her covered body outside.”

“She was happy.” Lilly speaks softly in the distance. “She wanted to go home. Now I’m starting to think the home she referred to wasn’t with her parents.”

Bile churns in my stomach, threatening to join the party.

Heavenwas nothome for Abi. She would never mean that.

“Are you both safe?” My tongue protests against the words, making them sluggish.

“We’re being looked after,” Nina says. “Benji has given us everything we need. I’m just not sure where we go from here. We’re in Eugene, in the neighboring suburb to Abi’s parents, and were meant to be heading to my family in Gold Beach.”

They’re close. Within a two-hour car ride.

I could get to them. Help them. Protect them and make certain they’re stable enough to be returned to real life.

I could… but I won’t.

I’m not a leader anymore. My time as their protector is over.

I can’t help anybody in my pathetic state.

“I’m scared,” Nina admits. “What if Abi didn’t realize how tough things were going to be until she reunited with her parents? What if the reality of returning became too much? The same thing could happen to me.”

“It won’t.” I swallow over the dryness consuming my throat. “You’re going to get back on your feet. Build a career. Be happy—”

“Butshewas happy, Penny. How does that disappear in the blink of an eye?”

“I don’t know.” I bite my lip. “We don’t know what went on inside that house.”

“What if this never ends?” Lilly sobs. “What if we’re always going to suffer?”

Silence follows, and I know they’re waiting for a familiar boost of positivity from me. Problem is, I have the same questions. I can’t fake optimism for them anymore.

“Look, I’ve gotta go.” I wrap my arm around my belly and squeeze tight. Speaking to them was a mistake. I can’t help them. And they can’t help me. Not anymore. All this conversation has done is bring more vulnerability. More agonizingly brutal suffering to everyone involved. “If you remember anything call Luca.”

Sarah clears her throat. “Penny, you have your—”

I hold up a hand to silence her. I know what she’s going to say—that I have my own phone. That they can contact me directly if all I’d do is let Luca set up the device he bought me.

I don’t want that. I can’t give my past twenty-four-seven access to me. And if I have the internet constantly within reach I’ll succumb to my pained curiosity. I’ll search for all the names of the sisters I’ve lost. I’ll suffocate under the weight of the lives they left behind.

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