Page 36 of Deliverance

I don’t look at her. I just nod.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Shaking my head, I continue staring at the flames, for I don’t know how long.

When the entire box and all its contents are reduced to nothing but soot and ash, I turn to look at her. Of course, she looks the exact same as she did an hour ago, but something is missing. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like the light has been snatched from her bright blue eyes, leaving behind practically colorless orbs in their place.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She looks at me and just stares. No answer, no gestures, just her soul peering into mine. I want to ask her what her father wanted. What he said to her, because clearly, it wasn’t good. As selfish as it sounds, though, I don’t feel like I’m capable of taking on anyone else’s pain right now. So, instead, I decide a distraction is best for both of us.

“You want to go somewhere with me for a little?”

“Where?” she asks.

“Does it matter?” I counter.

A humorless laugh leaves her as she nods, standing to her feet before offering me her hand. I take it, not able to ignore the rush of butterflies I get just from touching her. It’s there and gone as quickly as it came when she lets me go and heads for the door. I grab my purse and keys on the end table and I hear my mother call out to me, but I don’t engage. If I even set my eyes on her right now, I might just snap her goddamn neck.

We head for my car, wordlessly climbing in before I fire it up. We stay silent the entire way as I bob and weave through traffic. Salem on a Friday night can get a little chaotic despite how small the town is. It’s summertime, though. Everyone is out and about doing something.

When we reach downtown, I take a left and head for the outskirts for a bit before pulling over to my usual parking spot. Bridgette gives me a confused look, but follows along as I slip out of the car. Together, we walk side by side as we pass through the gates of a graveyard. We move through rows upon rows of headstones, some elaborate, others simple and plain, before stopping at my spot. Well, his spot.

His grave is right beneath a tree. It casts perfect shade on a sunny day and provides good cover on a rainy one. For the first month, I came here every day; practically slept out here. Over the last few months, I’ve come less and less, and now, I can’t remember the exact date I was last here. And I fucking hate myself for it.

“Hi, Dad,” I say with a watery smile and a tight voice.

Slowly, I lower myself to the ground, crossing my legs as I do. Bridgette sits beside me, tucking her legs under her skirt as she stares at the gravestone.

“This is Bridgette. I’m sure you know her as your disgusting wife’s new stepdaughter. Don’t hold it against her, though. She’s great.”

Bridgette’s brows knit together.

“Do you think he can see us? I mean, you think he’s like watching over you or something?”

I turn to look at her. “Don’t you with your mom?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “My father told me it was impossible. That we get one life. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. All that.”

I lift a brow at her. “That’s not what the Brethren teach.”

“Don’t lie and say every person in Salem follows the Brethren’s teachings to a T.”

She’s not wrong, though, I wouldn’t be saying it out loud if I were her. You never know who is listening.

“I do,” I answer before she gives me a confused look. “Believe that he’s watching over me. It gives me peace. I think it’s much easier for the living to believe that the dead watch over us, taking care of us. I mean, wouldn’t you rather believe that your mom has been looking after you, watching you become the woman you are today as opposed to her never knowing you? Just one minute she’s here, and the next gone forever?”

Bridgette thinks of that for a moment before she nods.

“I should have known the goth girl would spend her time in a cemetery,” she says, nudging her shoulder into mine.

Somehow, that pulls a laugh out of me and I shrug.

“If you’re going to be labeled, you might as well own it. That’s why you’re a raging cunt, right?”

I expect her to get mad, to be outraged and defend herself. Like Bridgette always seems to do, though, she surprises me.

“Exactly.”