Page 100 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow
A memory flashes. I’m in the forest, running. It’s getting dark and I shouldn’t be here, but I need to get away. Someone is right behind me, and I have to get away. I trip, and he falls onto my back, hands going around my throat, choking me, telling me this is all my fault, he’s in trouble and it’s my fault, he’s grounded and it’s my fault. The wind is rising, and the sound of hoofbeats distracts him. I bite his hand as hard as I can. He curses and pulls away. I scramble out from under him and run.
Him.
Someone.
I know why that was, even if my memory wants to haze over it.
Austin.
When I don’t answer, Ben says, “By mistake. Like your aunt. You guys were having a spat, and he showed up and you argued. He grabbed your arm or something like that. You guys were…” He shrugs. “Having a little tween romance, and you broke up or whatever. That’s why you didn’t want him around. The horseman misinterpreted.”
“A little tween romance?” Josie says. “What the hell, Ben?”
I fight against folding in on myself, and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“You know what I mean,” Ben says. “Austin had a crush. Maybe Sam reciprocated, maybe she didn’t, but the point—”
“Crush? Romance?” Josie sputters. “Seriously. What thehell,Ben. Is that what you tell yourself? How your family rewrote this?”
I want to tell her to stop, please stop, but I can’t speak, I can’t move.
“AustinstalkedSam,” she says. “Even I saw that. He wouldn’t leave her alone, and when she wasn’t interested, he…” She swallows and looks at me. “I didn’t know about the rest, Sam, not until I saw the police file. I just thought he was pestering you, and I tried to run interference, making sure he wasn’t alone with you, but I was a kid. I didn’t really understand what was happening. I’m sorry.”
“Sam?”
I can feel Ben’s gaze on me, but I don’t look up.
“Is that true, Sam?” Ben says. “It’s not, right? I don’t know what the sheriff put in his report, but I saw that carving on the tree, with you and the flowers—”
“Knife,” I say. “That’s a knife.”
He shakes his head. “You’re holding flowers. Austin carved you—”
“He carved me with a knife through my heart, Ben,” I say, anger welling. “Hetoldme what it was.”
“But—”
“But what? I’m lying?” I push back from the table. “Making it up to justify what happened? Maybe you want to see your brother’s otherartwork. His other carvings. They’re a whole lot clearer. How about the one with me hanging from a noose? Or the one of me chopped into pieces and—” I slap my hands to my mouth as I see his expression.
“I didn’t mean—” I begin.
Then I scramble up and run from the cottage.
Thirty
I’m on the driveway, tucked between Ben’s pickup and Josie’s car. I’m struggling for breath, half doubled over, and when I hear footsteps, I want them to be Josie’s but they’re too heavy and slow.
“Go,” I croak. “Please. I don’t want to fight with you. We can’t.”
Silence. Then, “I’m not fighting, Sam. I’m apologizing. I shouldn’t have questioned you when you told me what… what that carving was.”
My shoulders hunch in. “Maybe I misheard him. Maybe—”
“Stop,” he says, his voice low. “You didn’t mishear, and you aren’t lying about the other carvings. You don’t want to fight with me, but I’m not fighting. If you want me to keep my memories of my little brother intact…”
He exhales. “Fuck.”
“I’m sorry.”
