“I need to go inside. Both of us do. This is where it started.” I couldn’t see him. It was dark. So dark. The glow of Elian’s headlights illuminated the things I didn’t need to see.
“Where what started?” Elian asked. He sounded spooked. Breathless. He gasped and wheezed. I could almost hear the thump, thump of his unreserved, painful heart.
“Me. You. Both of us.”
I watched my daddy tell his story. Sharp. Merciful. Careful. Gentle.
He smiled at me, and I smiled back.
Inside I buzzed…
I opened the door. It was unlocked. I wasn’t surprised. Who else would find this place? Out in the middle of nowhere?
“I came here,” I said, my voice echoing.
“When?” Elian came inside behind me. It was bleak. Just like that night.
Déjà vu hit hard. Hit true.
“Go back to the car, Layna.”
I had already seen everything.
I had already seen it all.
Why did I have to leave now?
“This part is over. But for you, my little, little Layna, it’s only the beginning.”
“I was eight years old. My daddy was supposed to take me to get some ice cream. That’s what he told my mother anyway. It was his excuse.”
I stepped through the puddles on the floor. Sticky. Wet. Warm. Small shoe prints on the wood. Tracing my steps back outside. To before I had seen. Too much.
“He had a girl here. Tied to a chair.” I looked around the room I remembered. All those years ago.
All at once.
But it was empty.
When had that happened?
“She was crying. Her mouth was gagged. And he loved her. I could tell,” I whispered.
“He loved her? What are you talking about?” Elian wouldn’t come in. He stayed by the door.
Disgusted.
He was repulsed.
Smart.
I could hear my daddy singing as I walked back out to the car. Sweet, mournful sounds that filled my ears and bled out into the night.
Waylon Jennings. His favorite.
And he sang and sang.
“She was really pretty. Just a girl. A teenager. And her eyes. They were the most brilliant shade of green I had ever seen…”
Elian stilled. His face went white.
He knew…
“What are you saying, Layna?”
“Are you ready to get that ice cream now?” My father asked after he returned to the car. I didn’t ask where Amelia went.
I knew she was gone.
But where did he put her?
He had changed his clothes. He threw a trash bag into the backseat before getting in.
“I feel a little sick, Daddy,” I told him, hiding my face. I didn’t want him to see me. To see how upset I was. Because of Amelia.
Daddy pulled my chin around so that I had to look at him.
“It’s okay to feel bad, Lay. It’s okay to feel good about it too. Do you remember what I told you that day after you got into the fight at school?”
I nodded. “You said that I shouldn’t feel bad for being who I am.”
“Right. And this is who I am, Layna. Is that all right?”
What was he asking me?
I thought about the pretty girl with the green eyes.
“She was unhappy, Lay. She was sad all the time. She didn’t have a daddy that loved her the way that I love you. She’s free now. She’s a memory. And there she can be whoever we want her to be. Happy.”
I nodded.
I thought that made sense.
“This place, our stars, they’re for us, Layna. Not for your mommy. Not for Matty. They wouldn’t understand. So it’s important not to tell them. But you understand, don’t you?” I nodded.
My father’s coal black eyes glowed in the starlight. “You’ll write the stories too.”
I beamed.
“So how about that ice cream?” he asked, backing the car up. Driving away. Away from Amelia.
“Can I get Rocky Road?” I asked.
“Amelia. She was there. My father, he killed her. In front of me.” I swallowed. The bile rising in my throat.
Elian let out a noise and fell to his knees. His hands in his hair, he pulled and he pulled.
“Amelia,” he groaned, and I lost him.
He cracked.
Into.
Pieces.
I watched Elian lose his mind.
So I told him about his sister. All the horrible, horrible things that for him had been guesses.
I gave him the truth.
My memories.
My long kept secrets.
And it killed him.
All over again.