Page 1 of In Death, Love Survives

There’s a chill in the air, but that’s typical for this time of year. It’s officially fall in Montana. Soon enough, snow will blanket the entire area, and the state will turn into a winter wonderland.

Checking my desk clock, I see it’s a little after nine at night. My boyfriend is late getting me for a party we’re meant to be going to.

A friend of his is throwing the first major barn party of our senior year, and practically everyone from our high school will be there.

I’m wearing my signature fall look—jeans, cowboy boots, and a cozy sweater. It’ll be enough to keep me warm yet look cute when I’m with my girlfriends.

I debate texting him not to bother showing up at this point.

It’s late at night, and with the drop in temperature, this feels like the perfect conditions to just crawl into bed and scroll social media instead.

I could be looking up the college I’ll be going to this time next year instead of pretending like I’d rather be drinking a warm beer in a barn.

I was only going because he and my friends expected me to anyway.

I applied for early admission to Montana State and found out I got accepted last week. I’ve been ecstatic ever since. Since I’m a planner, I’ve been researching everything from what classes I should take to how I find a roommate for the dorm.

My mom has already had to remind me that we have time to figure it all out, and she and my dad will be there to help every step of the way.

Glancing at my desk clock again, I’m becoming more inclined to stay in with every passing minute.

I could also go join my parents, who are downstairs about to watch a new movie that was just released on a streaming service. Even though I have time to figure out my college plans, I know they won’t mind if I bring my laptop down and talk about it while we watch the movie together.

I pick up my cell phone and try calling my boyfriend one more time.

It rings repeatedly but is another call going unanswered.

“Nova, your dad just made popcorn if you want some,” my mom shouts from downstairs.

Hearing my mother’s voice, I can’t help but smile. They both love when it’s the three of us hanging out, like it’s always been.

Decision made.

“I’ll be right down!”

I text my boyfriend that I’m staying in tonight but to still reach out when he gets this. Then I send him another one saying how worried I am that he hasn’t been answering.

It doesn’t matter how familiar someone is with the roads around here; they’re still dangerous, and conditions can change easily. That, coupled with the wildlife roaming nearby, makes for scary driving conditions late at night.

It’s a Friday, so I’m hoping he’s just working late at the Bramwood Diner and doesn’t have his phone on him. He’s a server there, along with his mom. She’s a sweet woman who is just starting to date after the loss of her husband.

Despite how much I’ve told my boyfriend I’m here for him, he doesn’t talk about anything surrounding his dad much.

Sometimes it’s easy for people to internalize stressful situations, and I just want to be there for the person I love. I know he would be there for me if roles were reversed.

“Should we wait to start the movie?” Mom shouts.

It breaks me out of the trance I had fallen under.

I smile again. They’ve been waiting to see if I was actually going out tonight or not. Always thinking of me.

“Yeah, just give me two minutes!”

“Hurry, sweetheart! Your dad isn’t getting any younger,” my mom teases.

“I’m still a stud!” he shouts back.

“Of course you are,” my mom replies in a normal tone.

I laugh as I pick up my cell phone and laptop. I’m lucky that I’ve been given such a great example of what it’s like to be in love. The two of them have shown me the blueprint of what I want to be as an adult, a loving partner, and parent.

Looking around my bedroom, I try to see if there is anything else I may want downstairs to avoid coming back up in the middle of the movie. I know I’m being lazy, but I have a feeling the indoor fireplace is lit, and my dad has saved me my special couch blanket to get cozy under.

My dad and I pretend to fight over who gets to use it, but every time, he “gives in,” and I do.

It’s a hand-knit one that my grandmother made before she passed away.

It’s not only the best blanket on the couch but also the most meaningful.

Secretly, I know my dad loves that I want to use something of his mom’s too.

As an only child, I’ve always been close to both of my parents. Really, we’ve always done so much together, so hanging out with them on a Friday night isn’t strange.

The transition from hanging out with friends over them has always been odd, even during my adolescence and early teenage years.

They always gave me the freedoms that they thought I needed to grow up without siblings, which is probably why we’ve remained so tight-knit.

I know heading off to college next year is going to be a bit weird for all of us.

It’s one of the reasons I decided to stay close and attend college in Montana rather than going out of state. That, and the out-of-state tuition fees, really helped me make my decision.

My parents would have found a way to pay for any college I wanted to attend, but there’s really no need with the programs available at Montana State. I’m not sure what I want to study yet, but right now, I’m thinking of something in medicine or the sciences.

I’ll have my freshman year to really figure it out.

With a final glance around the room, I remember I left my new Montana State sweatshirt in my parents’ room. My mom gifted it the day after we found out that I had been accepted. They’re both as excited as I am that I got into my first-choice school for my undergraduate degree.

With my stuff in hand, I head to their bedroom.

I set my laptop and cell phone down on their bed as I look around the room for the sweatshirt.

I really can’t believe I haven’t worn it yet. My dad will no doubt make a joke that I’m finally excited to go to Montana State, as if I haven’t been talking about it nonstop and every chance I get.

In actuality, it’s just been a crazy week, and I forgot all about it. Hopefully, my mom doesn’t take that too personally when she sees it. She won’t, but I just hate hurting either of their feelings when they go above and beyond.

A loud banging downstairs distracts me from my search. I glance toward their bedroom door. It’s completely wide-open, giving me the opportunity to see the staircase and part of the first floor.

Trying to make out what’s happening, my eyes slowly adjust as another loud bang sounds.

One of my hands flies over my mouth.

Our front door is slammed inward, with broken pieces all over the ground. I can see the dark night on the opposite side of where the closed door should be.

Suddenly, my brain starts to play catch-up to what I’m witnessing. Loud shouting is happening downstairs, and I don’t recognize the voice I’m hearing.

Everything starts to turn to a hazy fog as I freeze in place with the broken door in my line of sight and screams buzzing in my ears.

A loud gunshot, followed by another and another, goes off. Five shots in total, if I’m processing this correctly.

What is happening?

Oh. My. God.

Someone has broken into our home.

Those were my parents’ screams.

I’m upstairs alone with a murderer downstairs.

As I continue to try and process what I’m hearing and seeing, I stand as still as a statue. Home goods are being thrown around, breaking and smashing as the intruder stalks around the first floor.

I can’t see or hear my parents anymore.

Adrenaline finally kicks in.

I grab my cell phone off the bed and slink into a corner of the room.

Deep breath, Nova. Deep breath.

I dial the police as quickly as I can, and it rings once. A female dispatcher answers my call.

“What’s your emergency?”

“Someone has broken into my house.” I take a huge breath. “I think the person just killed my parents downstairs. Please. Please help me,” I whisper-shout.

A split second of silence goes by.

“Get somewhere safe. I’m dispatching officers to your location.”

“Th-thank you,” I stutter.

“I’ll stay on the line with you until they get there.”

“Do you need my address?”

“I have it here.”

“Thank you,” I stumble out the words again.

Loud pounding on the stairs makes my heart race frantically.

“I think the person is coming up here.”

“ Hide . Hide somewhere now. Where they can’t see you easily.”

I look around the room from where I’ve cornered myself already. I hear the sound of my bedroom being searched, with more objects being smashed and tossed.

I know I’m on borrowed time before they come in here next for whatever it is they’re looking for.

Wait. Is this the robber the news has been featuring for weeks? Is the person here and committing murder now too?

This can’t be happening.

I frantically try to find somewhere to go in the room but feel helpless.

“The police are pulling up. They’re almost to you.”

“Please, please help me.”

“They’re almost there. Stay on the line.”

I sink down in the corner I’m in, hoping for the best. I can hear someone padding down the hallway in hurried footsteps. The person is close, so close to where I’m hiding. I’m not going to make it.

I squeeze my eyes shut as the footsteps finally stop… in my parents’ bedroom.

When I open them, the masked man and I make eye contact. His eyes and mouth are visible, and those eyes look familiar.

“He’s here.”

The man has something in his hands, and I drop my phone.

“Hi, pretty.”

That voice sounds familiar, too, but I can’t place it.

He swings the object he’s been holding onto, and it hits me hard across the face.

A bat. It has to be a bat. This hurts like I’ve been hit with a baseball bat, but maybe now’s not the time for semantics.

As I collapse to the ground, I see him standing over me. Then darkness takes over.