Eden (Providence #3)

It wasn’t long before I processed where we were and why, and then the tears came. “Oh,” I said, wiping my cheek. Being unsettled and upset was a strange relief. I was normal, after all.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Jared said, leaning over to kiss my hair.

“Have you heard from anyone?”

He nodded. “Claire shot me a text. They put out the fire and found the body. They think it’s you. Everyone will probably find out in the morning.”

“My mother….”

“Claire already informed her. She will play dumb and devastated to the police. She knows the routine.”

I let a puff of air escape my lips. “At least she won’t think I’m dead.”

“It could be Monday morning before anyone notices Sasha is missing.”

“I don’t know,” I said, picking at my fingernails. “She was on the phone in my office talking to her mother. They seemed close. Her family could file a missing persons report today or tomorrow.”

Jared nodded, deep in thought.

It didn’t feel right letting Sasha’s death go unannounced. If she typically spoke with her mother daily, she could be waiting for her call, her worry turning into panic. My hand drifted to my midsection, resting over the bump that protected our child. Sasha was someone’s daughter. Her mother had brought her home from the hospital, taught her to crawl, walk, and raised her to the young woman she is; was. That woman, who loved Sasha more than anything else in the world, was sleeping peacefully for the last time. The moment Sasha crossed her mind—the moment it occurred to this woman to call her daughter—would be the first moment of thousands that she would feel a horrible sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. More guilt washed over me.

“Stop, Nina. It’s not your fault,” Jared said.

“I don’t suppose we can tell Beth?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Jared only offered an apologetic expression.

We pulled into a gas station for the second time. Anyone else would have thought twice about stopping at such a nefarious-looking place in the wee hours of the morning. Bars guarded the windows, and several unscrupulous characters loitered next to the front door. Jared, however, stepped out and walked past them as if he were at the mall.

I waited in the truck hoping none of the people staring back at me would become curious enough to wander over. Jared was only inside for a moment, and then he emerged, holding a bottle of water and something deep-fried and stuffed with cheese and chicken.

He frowned as he handed them over. “It’s not the healthiest thing, but I thought it would tide you over until we could find a decent restaurant.”

I took a bite. It was disgustingly wonderful.

Just as Jared pulled back onto the highway, my cell phone buzzed. The display lit up, and I instantly tensed. “It’s Beth,” I said.

Jared sighed. “You have to let it ring.”

“She is probably sick with worry. I can’t just let her think I’m dead.”

Jared took the phone from my hand. “I sympathize, I really do. Beth doesn’t deserve that, but we don’t have a choice.”

I shook my head and looked out the window. Jared was right: Beth didn’t deserve a friend like me. She had only been patient, honest, kind, loyal, and protective. I couldn’t imagine the despair I would feel if I answered a call that Beth’s car had exploded with a charred body inside. My heart ached for her, and if I wasn’t riddled with guilt before, now I was so ashamed I could barely stand to be in my skin. Tears welled up in my eyes and fell down my cheeks. If Beth ever found out that I knowingly allowed her to suffer over my death, she would never forgive me—and I would never expect it from her.

The phone stopped ringing, and the voicemail chimed, letting me know she’d left a message. I held out my hand to Jared, but he shook his head.

“Do you really want to hear the worry in her voice? You feel bad enough.”

I covered my face with my hand and shook my head. “This is awful, Jared. This is so wrong.”

Jared leaned over and kissed my temple. “I’m so sorry, Nina. I’m so, so sorry.”

I looked over at him and could see he was just as upset as I. If he could find another way he would, but once someone knew about our life there was no going back. I didn’t want that for Beth, either.

We continued south, and by daybreak reached Maryland. The morning sun glistened on a sign that read Eden Pop.793. Trees lined the median on one side of the road; railroad tracks on the other. Other than a few billboards and a patch of land used for tractor sales, I couldn’t see much of Eden.

“That’s an interesting name,” I said.

“It fits, too,” Jared said straight-faced. “The town is just as hard to find as the garden.”

“Ha, ha,” I teased, unimpressed with his joke. “So do we have an actual destination?”

Jared smiled. “We do, now. When I saw we were on Ocean Highway, I thought of the perfect place.”

“Which is….?” I trailed off.

“Virginia Beach.”