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“You won’t tell me what you’re feeling!” she yelled, her eyes wide and shining with newly formed tears that had yet to fall. “And you have no idea how much that hurts. I’m your wife, Ethan. You shouldn’t be afraid to share anything with me.”
“Even if it’s something you don’t want to hear?”
“Especially that. Because how can we fix it—together—if only one of us knows what the problem is?”
“There is no fixing it,” I said. “That’sthe problem.”
“Then just tell me.Please.” Claudia stared at me from across the room. One of the tears had slipped free and was sliding down her cheek. “Ethan, I need to know why you don’t want kids.”
I wearily dropped onto the bed, knowing I was about to break my wife’s heart.
“Because kids disappear,” I said, the truth feeling not like a weight had been lifted from me but like it had suddenly been doubled.
Claudia touched my cheek and kissed my forehead. “I understand,” she said softly, and I believed her. She knew what happened to Billy. She knew how much it had fucked me up. And she knew that, because of it, I would never, ever change my mind.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I know,” Claudia said.
Then she left our bedroom for the very last time.
“Here we are,” Ashley says, jerking me back to the present by setting a plate of quartered limes and a saltshaker on the table in front of me. She pours us both a shot. We lick our hands and sprinkle them with salt before licking it off, downing the tequila, and ending with a suck of lime wedge. The tequila, cheap but strong, burns its way down my throat. I bark out a cough. Ashley slaps the table.
“God, I needed that,” she says. “I bet you never thought you’d be doing shots with your old babysitter.”
“I can honestly say I never did.”
“Life is full of surprises, isn’t it? I mean, I never thought I’d be back living in this house. I bet you didn’t, either. You, of all people, had every reason to stay far, far away.”
“There weren’t many other options,” I say, pointedly not getting into the why and how of it all. It’ll take more than a shot of tequila to get me talking aboutthat.
“It’s scary how little the place has changed.” Ashley looks around the room, and I know she’s really gesturing to what’s beyond the kitchen walls. To Hemlock Circle. “The houses are the same. The people are the same. In some ways, it’s like I never left. When all I wanted to do was get the hell out and never come back.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Dad needed me,” Ashley says. “I mean, he needed me after mymom died, and I stayed a few weeks, but no more than that. I knew how easy it would be to get sucked back into life here, and I refused to do it. But then Dad started forgetting stuff and getting confused, and it seemed to get worse and worse every time I visited. Once Deepika Patel found him standing at her door saying he couldn’t remember which house he lived in, it became inevitable.”
She refills the shot glasses and we do it all over again. Lick, shoot, suck. This time, I manage to refrain from coughing, but the tequila loosens me up enough to say, “So all that stuff your father said—about seeing Billy in your yard and following him into mine—is just his imagination?”
“More like confusion.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Ashley gives me a curious look. “Are you drunk already?”
“No. I just thought—” I stop myself, trying to think of a way to say it without sounding crazy. And delusional. And utterly pathetic. “I thought I sensed Billy’s presence. A few nights ago.”
“Where? In your house?”
“The backyard. And all around Hemlock Circle. I’ve…seen things.”
“Is that why you bought that camera?”
“Yup,” I say. “To try to figure out what’s going on. Because ever since your father said he’s also seen things, I’ve been wondering if—”
“It’s true?” Ashley says, her tone making it clear she’s skipped past crazy and delusional and gone straight to thinking I’m pathetic. “Oh, Ethan. It’s nice to think about those we love still being near after they’re gone. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.”
“How can you be so sure?”