Page 42 of The Missing Half
Chapter Forty-one
Light from the outside bulb glints off the shiny black metal in Jenna’s hand, and the air around me electrifies.
“Wait,” I hear Kasey say from the doorway. “Please, just—wait.” I’ve never before heard her sound so scared, and it’s this, almost more than the sight of the gun itself, that clarifies what, deep down, I already knew but wasn’t willing to believe: Jenna isn’t here to get a confession out of my sister. She’s here to kill her.
For close to a decade, I’ve lived with a hole in my heart, the space carved out when Kasey disappeared. Now, after all that time, we’ve found our way back to each other and that emptiness in my chest has filled. I’m not willing to lose her—not again.
My world narrows to one objective: Get the gun out of Jenna’s hands.
“Just say it,” Jenna says. Tears are choking her speech now, slurring her words. The gun, which she’s pointing somewhere between the floor and Kasey, looks heavy in her hand. “Say you killed my sister.”
Holding my breath, I take one tentative step up the stairs. It’s impossible to be completely soundless, but the edge of the staircase is more fortified than the center, and I’m praying that Jenna’s too distraught to hear the almost imperceptible noise it makes. Plus, I’m still hidden in the house’s shadow, which should obscure her peripheral vision.
“You took away the one thing in this world I loved most,” she says, and I take another step, the sound of her voice masking the slight creak of wood beneath my weight.
“Please,” Kasey says. “Let me explain.”
Jenna lets out something between a scoff and a sob. “Explain what? What could you say that could possibly make a difference?” She’s shouting now, tears streaming down her face and into her open mouth.
I use the opportunity to keep moving.
“It was an accident,” Kasey says.
“Do you honestly think that changes anything?” Jenna waves the gun wildly through the air. “She was going to be an artist, did you know that? She was supposed to have a goddamn life.”
“I…” Kasey’s voice chokes out.
Finally, I am close enough to lunge at Jenna, but just as I’m about to try to knock the gun out of her hands, she walks over the threshold and disappears from my sight.
“Say it!” I hear her shout from within the house. “Just fucking say it!” She sounds unhinged. There’s no time to rethink my plan. I take the final steps onto the landing and turn to face the doorway. Jenna’s back is to me, her body shaking.
And there, over her shoulder, is Kasey.
Her hair is in a pixie cut, much shorter than I’ve ever seen it before. Her cheeks are slimmer too. I’ve thought of her face many times over the years, but it is so much more nuanced in real life than my own memory could ever conjure, more alive than any photo ever captured. My heart clenches at the sight—she looks terrified.
“Please.” Kasey lifts her palms, and it’s then that I see her register my presence, her gaze flickering with confusion.
Stall, I try to tell her with my eyes. Buy me time. Jenna’s still pointing the gun down toward Kasey’s legs. If I can get it out of her hands, I can save them both.
“Give—give me a minute…” Kasey stammers out. “Give me a second. To explain.”
“You’ve had seven fucking years,” Jenna says, lifting the gun and aiming it at Kasey’s head. “Your time’s up.”
There’s a metallic clicking sound as she cocks the gun, and I realize there is no saving them both. If I spare Jenna, she will kill my sister. To spare my sister, I’m going to have to kill Jenna.
It’s as if I’m suspended in time. I see Jenna bringing me a bag of peanut M&M’s, Jenna slipping her arms gratefully through my cardigan, Jenna throwing her head back and laughing at my joke, Jenna smiling softly as Banksy curls into my lap. For these past few weeks, the woman in front of me has become the closest thing I’ve had to a sister since my own went missing. I realize now that I’ve come to love her.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I lift up the hammer, impossibly heavy in my hand. And then, with all my might, I swing it down on the back of Jenna’s skull.