The Forgotten Girl

I don’t say anything, just hang up. I put the phone in my pocket, not bothering to cover up the short black skirt, knee-high socks, and tight t-shirt I’m wearing. My mom’s not home to see me, but quite honestly it doesn’t really matter anymore if she sees me dressed like this. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be today, a mixture of someone, perhaps Lily and Maddie.

I pull on a jacket as I prepare to head out because it looks like it’s going to rain, heavy clouds rolling in, a grumble of lightning in the distance. I hate the rain. I go over to the security box and try to unset the alarm, even though I don’t know the code. After several failed attempts, Lily gets irritated and pretty much forces me to walk out the door, setting off the alarm and sprinting out into the rain.

I take the bus because it’s the only form of transportation I have at the moment. On my way there, I debate getting off and taking another bus that goes up to the foothills, taking a detour up to the cabin, and just blowing off River completely. I haven’t seen Ryland since the night Sydney was killed. I want to talk to him about it, because he’s the only one I can talk to openly, but at the same time I fear that even he might think twice about being near me if I divulged I think I might have killed someone. What is his limit? How much is too much? Do I trust him No. I don’t trust anyone.

But I need to go see River and find out what he knows, whether I want to or not. So I head to the bar. By the time I get there, raindrops are splattering against the window and the ground like the blood I see in my memories. I can hardly see through it, it’s coming down so hard. I can make out the building across the street as the bus slows to a stop; the parking lot where I saw Sydney splattered in her own blood. I try to picture myself luring her over there. What would I have said that would make her go with me. Maybe we were fighting and she tried to run away from me. Maybe I chased her down and then just at the right moment, I stabbed her multiple times. But where would I get the knife? And what about Bella? Why would I hurt her? I liked her, well more than I liked anyone else.

“I think I really did it,” I say as I get off the bus and once again Lily has nothing to say. “It seems so easy to picture—someone dying because of me. And what happened at Bella’s… I can’t deny the blood.”

I stand on the sidewalk, staring at the bar, afraid of going inside. I listen to the rain drown the world. The thunder boom. The lightning crash. I remain there until a memory of me wrapping my fingers around a woman’s neck starts to slither into me, a venomous snake slipping its fangs into my skin. Until I can feel the rain drenching my body, the cold concrete against my flesh, hear the deep voice calling me a whore and that I deserve to be punished, see the flames ignite through the storm, her voice that sounds just like mine telling me not to be weak, to do whatever it takes to be strong. Be the darkness within you. It’s so much easier. Once it gets to that place, I jog inside, trying to outrun the images, but they’re always behind me, chasing at my heels.

The bar is empty as I stumble in, drenched in rain from head to toe. The place doesn’t open for another half of an hour. The faint smell of sweat and tequila is in the air, the lights are low, the chairs turned up. I think about the last time I was here. The chill of the freezer. The voice. The blood. I try to remember the rest. Connect the dots, but everything is still hazy.

I find River in his office, just like he said, talking on the phone. Lily is screaming inside me. Don’t do it! And then suddenly she’s out, walking around in River’s now clean office—he must have had someone clean up in here.

“No Glen, I don’t think this is a good idea.” He shakes his head as I stand in the doorway and wait quietly while he talks on the phone. “I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.” A pause. “Look, I don’t f**king care if I owe you, this is wrong… not to mention illegal.”

“Hmmm… interesting…” Lily says, watching him have the heated conversation. “He’s doing things with Glen, the drug trafficker.”

I want to ask what she’s implying but that would require talking aloud and making me look as insane as I am. So instead I stand there, listening to River argue with Glen while Lily wanders over to a shelf, glances at a stack of papers, then grins at me and says, “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

I’m about to go over there when River sees me and his face drains of color. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.” He quickly hangs up. He stares at me for a moment or two then casually says, “We seriously need to get a bell on you so I know when you’re coming.”

I don’t respond, trying to measure him up before I go any further into the office. He looks the same as he always does, faded jeans, a dark grey shirt, a hint of scruff on his jawline, and he has a beanie on his head. He doesn’t seem afraid, like he thinks I’m a killer.

But then why did he need to talk to me?

Don’t trust him. No matter what.

“You look tired,” he notes, taking in my appearance as I inch closer to his desk. “And wet. Is it raining outside?”

“It is… and I haven’t been sleeping well.” Deciding I should sit down, I cross the room, combing my fingers through my wet locks of hair. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” I take a seat across from the desk.

He reclines back in the chair, crossing his arms, studying me with his head cocked to the side. Always watching you. “The police came to talk to me this morning,” he says. “They wanted to ask me a couple of questions about Sydney.”

“Oh yeah.” I pick at my nail polish, pretending to be blasé, even though I’m a nervous wreck. “Do they have any leads yet on who they think did it?”

“I don’t think they do yet.” He pauses, making heavy eye contact with me. I know what’s coming even before he says it. “They wanted to ask me a couple of questions about you, too.”

I drop my hand to my lap, refusing to look away from his penetrating gaze. No eye contact shows a guilty conscience. “Oh, yeah? What about?”

“About how you said you were here that morning because apparently we spent the night together.”

I twist a strand of my hair around my finger. “Technically we did.”

He tugs off his beanie and rakes his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. “Are you in some kind of trouble? The detective seemed really interested in you and if I’d spent the entire night with you or if that was a lie… he seemed convinced that it was.”