Page 17 of Missing White Woman
“They’re not home,” Drew said.
“Which is why they didn’t answer,” Krista said.
Drew didn’t say anything. He was too busy looking at me as I stopped a few feet from them. My fear must’ve shown on my face because he looked alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. Not sure what to say. Wishing Ty was here because he would know what to do next.
Drew took me in. I, in turn, took in big gulps of air as if coming up from the world’s deepest dive. The dog barked beside me. “What’s wrong?” Drew said again.
I finally managed to speak. “There’s a woman. A body. Inside.”
It was all I could get out. So I just stood there as the gulf between us became wider than the few feet that actually separated us. My breathing sped up until it matched the rhythm of my heart.
Krista and Drew looked at each other, then at me. “Inside 110?” Drew said.
I nodded.
He looked toward 110 Little Street. I refused. Instead staring at the house across the street.
“Are you sure?” he said.
I took a step toward him. Finally looked him in the eye, my fear morphing into anger. “Of course.”
Who would lie about something so horrible?
“Okay.” He had the nerve to smile when he spoke.
He handed Krista the leash, then strolled to the gate of 110 nonchalantly, as if this was all some sick joke. What I did for shits and giggles. Run out of houses. Stop the first stranger I came across. Send him inside some strange house to check for nonexistent dead bodies.
As he made his way up the stairs, all I could think about was the blood. Krista didn’t say anything, just silently followed Drew’s progress as he opened the door, then stopped abruptly. A car plowing into a wall.
He backed up and ran down the stairs a lot quicker than he went up. But he left the door open, and the vision overtaking my head was once again a reality. The woman. The river of red. I could even make out her nails. The long juts of pale beige polish specked in what had to be blood.
He didn’t say anything when he got back, just looked at Krista and nodded. Confirmation I wasn’t lying. It was only then Krista gasped and stared at me. “What did you do?”
I took a step back. “She broke in.”
“So you fought.”
“No. I was asleep. I found her when I woke up.”
I flashed again on the body. My grandmother had lived by herself for way too long, ignored all pleas to move in with my mom. The final straw was when she fell down the stairs. I had come to drop off dinner, and she had been coming to let me in. Through the window in the door, I could see her fall. Watched her tumble face down, her arms instinctively splayed out—just like that woman in the foyer. Luckily, my grandmother hadn’t landed on a table.
“She fell down the stairs. Hit the table.” My tone was pleading.
Krista turned to Drew as if wanting him to confirm, but he had his phone out, calling 911. Within seconds he was talking. “Yes. I’m at 110 Little Street. Paulus Hook. There’s a dead woman inside.”
He paused for a beat before resuming his report. “No, I didn’t check her pulse, but I don’t think… There’s a lot of blood.”
Rivers.
He listened some more. “I don’t know. Let me ask.” He finally acknowledged me. “What’s the name?”
“Mine?”
“Hers.”
My throat started to constrict, but somehow I managed to get words out. “I don’t know. I came downstairs and she was there.”
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