Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 188966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Tomorrow...
No.
It has to be today.
Now.
Because now was the only moment any of us had. If I’d learned anything in my long life, it was that. It was the unarguable knowledge that living didn’t happen in the future or the past. It happened right now, and it was up to us to focus and live it because if we didn’t...it was gone.
Sitting taller, I cleared my throat and asked, “What was the question, Dylan? I want to continue. I’m okay to push on.”
He studied me carefully before finally repeating, “Did he survive? Ethan...? Did he survive what Aslan did to him and the midnight swim?”
My lips stretched into a smile. A smile that I hoped wasn’t too smug as Ethan was a person, after all. He’d been someone’s son. Someone’s brother. He’d done something awful and paid an awful price. But I held no animosity or fear toward him anymore. Not like all those years ago. Then I’d drowned beneath feelings I couldn’t deal with, ensuring Karma visited us in an equally awful way.
“To this day, I don’t know.” I stared at my age-stained hands. “He was never found. Just like Aslan’s family was never found. All of them vanished without a trace.”
“Do you think Ethan was...eaten?” Margot winced. “Could that happen? Could the very shark that you helped with the hook have eaten him as a thank you?”
I smiled. “Perhaps. The ecosystem of the sea doesn’t discriminate between flesh from male or whale. What is no longer needed by one is needed by another. The cycle of life is merciless and predictable.”
“So...Aslan was never charged with his murder?” Dylan asked carefully.
I winced.
His question was a little too close to what was coming next.
The second incident in the long line of dominos, all lining up ready to crash.
“No. He wasn’t. No one knew. Well...no one knew until we told them.”
“Wait. Who did you tell?” Margot asked. “I mean...I’m frankly surprised you’re telling us, if I’m honest. I know the incident took place decades ago, but...Aslan could still be found guilty. He could spend the rest of his life in jail if they suddenly went looking for Ethan’s remains based on this article.”
Dylan stiffened. “Margot has a point. Personally, I’m glad Ethan got what he deserved. If Aslan was here, I’d shake his hand for doing what all men would love to do if their wife was hurt in that way, but...it might be risky being so upfront about it, Nerida. Perhaps we should redact a few parts—”
“No. Keep the story in its entirety.”
“But aren’t you worried—”
“No.” I didn’t wait for them to ask why I wasn’t worried. They wouldn’t get an answer to that question.
Margot and Dylan shared a look, deliberating if they wanted to continue with my tale or stay stubbornly on Ethan’s possible murder. Not having a conclusion to his survival or demise had always felt like a loose end in the saga of my life.
Had he swum to shore, limped to the nearest hospital, and begged for treatment? Had he lied about why he had a hole in his leg and two missing fingers? Perhaps he was living his own tale, with a wife who had no idea what he’d done, with children of his own. Or...maybe his bones were now coral. Calcified and practically stone, mutated with crustaceans, picked clean by eager fish.
I would never know.
And, depending on my mood each day—on the days I actually spared him a thought, which was never now—I would either hope he’d survived or hope he’d died. I could control the narrative on his ending, giving me comfort, even though, for so long, not knowing if he was still alive gave me nightmares.
Trying to distract them, I said, “Remember those little nudges I told you I was good at following? Those little knowings that seemed to come and go? Well, they started nudging me rather loudly that something was coming. Something painful and hard. An incident that would change the course of our lives forever.”
“Something worse than rape?” Margot’s mouth fell open.
“Something because of the rape.” I shrugged sadly. “Something that could’ve been avoided if only I’d done what Aslan had asked of me.”
Margot sat upright, suddenly understanding. “You didn’t talk to him...did you?” she asked quietly. “You didn’t let him help you through the aftermath....you shut down.”
I gave her a smile, sharing feminine understanding. Women were hardwired to be strong, invincible. It was that conditioning that ended up breaking most of us.
“My cousin was drugged and date-raped.” Margot placed her hand over the microphone, muting what she said next from being recorded. “She slept through the entire thing and only found out, thanks to my sister taking her to the hospital. They found at least three men had abused her, according to DNA. She told all of us that she was fine. She said she wouldn’t let three faceless men scar her for life. She told us she got counselling. She hid how badly she was hurting. It wasn’t until she couldn’t hide anymore that we finally knew how much she couldn’t cope. It was a long recovery once she reached out for help and actually began to heal instead of hide.”