Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“I don’t think that’s the issue here,” Sloane says. “They don’t suspect him of causing the accident. But he removed evidence from a potential crime scene after the fact. That’s big.”
It is big.
It’s huge.
And the idea of Fenn being locked up for what he did makes me physically ill. For the rest of the evening, I’m on the verge of throwing up. Despite my better judgment, I can’t stop myself from texting Fenn.
Me: I heard what you did. Are you okay? Any updates?
He doesn’t respond, and I have a feeling it’s purposeful. I can almost see him pacing his dorm room, telling RJ that he refuses to drag me back into this mess. It’s already bad enough she’ll probably be questioned again, he’s saying. I can’t dump all my problems on her too.
I can hear his voice in my head saying that. Firm. Thick with fortitude, determined to keep me out of it.
I broke you.
His gruff, sad words float around in my head, bringing a lump to my throat. Fenn thinks he’s protecting me by ignoring me. He thinks he broke me.
I think maybe we broke each other.
The horrible notion stays with me all night. My phone stays silent. Hours pass and I can’t fall asleep. I lie there in the dark, plagued with a constant stream of thoughts and a perpetual stomachache that doesn’t go away. This hollow sensation in my gut won’t abate, this nagging unease and emptiness inside me.
I thought I could punish Fenn for what he did, but trying to cut him out of my life only succeeded in ruining both of us.
Eventually I drift off. I know I do because it’s around two in the morning when the nightmare forces me back into consciousness. I wake up coughing, gasping for air.
Oddly enough, I wasn’t drowning. The house was on fire. I couldn’t see the flames, but I could smell the smoke. It was filling my bedroom, seeping into every corner, curling up the walls toward the ceiling. Within seconds, the entire room was a suffocating gray cloud. I made the mistake of inhaling, and the smoke burned a path into my lungs.
I acted fast. Once I realized I couldn’t stay in this room, I grabbed the shoebox from the nightstand and raced to the door. I could feel Silver’s body jostling around in the box with each hurried step, and her loud cries pierced the quiet night. She was alive.
But now I’m awake. The bedroom isn’t full of smoke. And Silver is still dead.
A sob flies out of my mouth, ripped from deep in my soul.
Oh my God. What the hell is wrong with me?
Tears flood my eyes, a gust of agony blasting into me, making me curl over on the bed. I suck in deep, agonizing breaths as shame and horror burn my throat.
I threw her in the garbage.
I threw her body in the fucking garbage.
With loud, heartrending sobs, I crawl out of bed and stumble to my feet. I can’t remember the last time I felt this kind of pain. Not even the aftermath of the accident, the loss of all my friends, had triggered such a response.
I throw my door open and burst into the hall, startling Penny. She starts barking, and I don’t even try to quiet her. I run on bare feet toward my father’s bedroom.
He’s already awake when I stagger inside, sitting up and flicking on the lamp by his bed. He takes one look at my tear-soaked face, hears the ragged noises coming out of my mouth, and flings his blankets aside.
“Casey,” he says with the kind of horrified concern that only makes me cry harder.
“Where did you take the garbage?” I choke out, still struggling to breathe. I feel dizzy, swaying on my feet.
Dad steadies me with a strong, firm hand. “What? What’s happening, sweetheart?”
Penny is still barking up a storm in the doorway, which draws Sloane out of her bedroom, her sleepy voice filling the hall. “What’s going on—”
“Where did you put the garbage bag with Silver’s body?” I plead, staring at my dad with huge, tear-filled eyes. “Where is she? We have to bury her.”
“Casey—”
“Please,” I beg. I launch myself at him and press my face against his shirt. “Why did you let me do that to her? Why?”
“Casey—”
“Why?” I start to shake, shudder, crying like a baby in his arms. “I’m so ashamed. Why did you let me do that?”
“Casey, we buried her.”
CHAPTER 46
CASEY
MY SISTER’S GENTLE VOICE SNAPS ME TO ATTENTION. I LIFT MY head and seek out her gaze.
“W-what?” I stammer. Breathing through the tears, I look from Sloane to our dad. “You buried her?”
He nods to confirm the claim. “We did.”
“When?”
“After you threw out the box. You went up to your room, and we took her out of the garbage and buried her.”