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“Yes.”
He shifts around. “What did he message you?”
“To call nine-one-one.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t wait for a second and fires off the next question. “But you didn’t call them?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t.”
“Eve, look at me.” He waits and waits, and then he’ssuddenly on his knees in front of me, with his hands gently on the outside of my thighs. “What made you change your mind? Why did you call the cops a few days later?”
He stares at me like he can figure it all out as long as his gaze is on me.
The body tremors have reached uncontrollable levels, and I’m shaking violently from head to toe. The sensations attack me from all sides: the crawling feeling under my skin, my suddenly sluggish heartbeat, the unbearable pain in my chest, the dizziness and nausea.
I want to curl up into a tight ball and cease to exist.
My chin drops to my chest, and all of my emotions come out in a pained noise that sounds inhuman. “Because my sister died. I was supposed to make a phone call but didn’t do it. I killed her, Phoenix. I’m the reason my sister is dead.”
Phoenix’s hands are on me. He pulls me into his arms. Gently. I bury my face into his chest, wanting nothing more than to disappear. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Pain, guilt, and shame are all ripping me apart from the inside.
Phoenix walks us to the bed and maneuvers us onto it, his embrace solid and unyielding, never letting go of me. He makes me feel safe in a way I’ve never felt before. Nothing bad can happen as long as I’m with him. It’s a faulty notion, an illusion to screw with me because we both know we’re not safe. No one is safe from the devil.
“Shh.” Phoenix rubs his hand over my back.
My body seems to remember the soothing motion, immediately calming down. Silent tears run down my cheeks, but I do nothing to stop them. Weirdly enough, theyoffer me solace. Maybe I can cry all of this pain out once and for all.
“Eve, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know you were dealing with a psychopath. There was no way you could’ve known. You can’t blame yourself.”
It takes me several tries to get words out of my mouth. “If only I had told someone right away. Maybe things would have gone differently. But I thought it was just some idiot playing games.”
He blows out a breath, the motion tickling my hair. “Most people wouldn’t have taken it seriously, and I honestly don’t think it would’ve made a difference had you told someone.”
“I don’t know. I just feel like I should have done something.”
“Even if you’d gone to the police with one text message from what I assume is a burner phone, it wouldn’t have mattered. If they had acted on it, which is doubtful, they probably wouldn’t have found him in time.”
In time to save my sister. That’s what he’s not saying.
And maybe he’s right. That’s the whole thing about retrospection and could haves and should haves. There’s no way of knowing. Logically, it makes sense the police probably couldn’t have prevented what happened. Involving them could have actually made things worse. But my heart doesn’t want to hear anything about that. It’s hurting, even after all this time, and I don’t think it’ll ever not hurt when I think about my sister. The grief is my living proof of how much I loved her. Just like there can’t be happiness without unhappiness, maybe there can’t be love without hate or loss either.
I sniff. “Connie didn’t deserve this.”
He shifts us around so we lie facing each other and cups my cheeks. “You’re right, she didn’t. But listen to me, you didn’t deserve any of this either. And you certainly are not responsible for her death.”
I stay quiet and focus on keeping my breathing as even as possible.
He wipes a thumb over my tears. “So you haven’t told anyone about this in all these years?”
I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head.
“Eve.”
His voice is laced with pain when he says my name.