Page 107 of The Lost Bones
She didn’t have a cell phone and neither did he. There was no landline. She had to call for help. As she plodded back upstairs, her surroundings morphed. The walls and cupboards and furniture all slowly melted and blended into what it had looked like when she lived here.
She took a shaky breath. She felt like she was floating as she roamed around the house, reliving the fading memories—the corners she used to hide in, that chair where she always sat to eat, the top of the stairs from where she would watch Melody get beaten up.
She left bloody footprints all over the house. But being in the belly of this dreadful place, the epicenter of everything that had gone wrong with her life, didn’t spark any response. She waited. Waited for her heart to pound. Waited for her skin to tingle. Waited for her breathing to get ragged. Waited for her cells to feel like they were going to burst.
Most of all, she waited for her mother’s voice.
But it never came. Nothing happened. The voice was silenced for good. Those ugly memories had lost their sheen.
They had disintegrated into oblivion.
Venturing into the sticky night, she touched Robert’s watch on her wrist and the letters in her pocket. They made her feel something. And they always would. Because Andrew was right. He’d come into her life for a reason. He’d made her realize just how strong love could be. And then he’d gone, leaving a gaping hole.
A couple walking their dog came into view.
Mackenzie limped across the driveway into the street. They saw her and jumped, horrified at the state of her. Her shirt was soaked in blood. Her body was covered in bruises.
“I’m Detective Price from the Lakemore PD. Can I borrow your phone?”
EPILOGUE
APRIL 29
Mackenzie had spent the last two days recovering in the hospital, trying to convince Nick that she wasn’t scarred for life, and giving her official statements. Her first day out, she went to the playground.
She watched Robbie play with a golden retriever. His aunt kept a watchful eye on him from a distance. When he spotted Mackenzie, he sent the dog to fetch a frisbee and came over to her.
She bent down level with him, her heart bursting at the seams with the affection she felt for the little boy. He hadn’t stopped crying since his aunt broke the news to him. It was only yesterday that they got him the dog to help.
He smiled up at Mackenzie. But his eyes were pained. And Mackenzie felt shame, shame that Robbie was displaying so much strength and she had been so weak for so much of her life.
“I have something for you.” She touched his cheek and fished out the letter Andrew had written in the basement. She hadn’t read it. “It’s from your dad.”
Robbie took it with moist eyes. She grabbed his tiny face in her hands and planted a kiss on his forehead.
“I miss him,” he admitted.
“I know. The ones who love us never really leave us. They always stick around, just in a different way.”
Robbie gave her a small smile and went to sit on a bench to read the letter.
“Thank you.” His aunt joined her. “Andrew told me how you connected with him.”
“I did. I’m glad he has you in his life.”
She nodded. “I hope you’ll visit us sometimes. If that’s not asking for too—”
“Of course not. I definitely will.”
May 1
“Hawkins.” Mackenzie nodded, moving to stand next to Vincent Hawkins at the sports bar.
“Aha, Detective Price,” he exclaimed in his rich baritone. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
She always locked horns with reporters. They were too sensationalist for her taste, especially in a town like Lakemore. And after the unwanted attention she had received, the last thing she wanted was to interact with anyone in the media.
But Hawkins was one of the good guys. She admired both his integrity and his tenacity.
