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After dropping Alex off at Joyce’s, Katie finally drove back home,
not wanting to return but knowing she couldn’t put off the
inevitable forever. Even if she didn’t intend to stay there, she
needed to pack up some of her belongings.
Dust rose from the gravel and she bounced through the potholes
before pulling to a stop out front. She sat in the jeep—dented and
scraped, but still running fine—and stared at the door,
remembering how Kevin had bled to death on her porch, his gaze
fixed on her face.
She didn’t want to see the bloodstains. She was afraid that
opening the door would remind her of the way Alex had looked
after Kevin struck him. She could practically hear the sounds of
Kristen and Josh crying hysterically as they clung to their father.
She wasn’t prepared to relive all of that.
Instead, she started toward Jo’s. In her hand was the letter that
Alex had given her. When she’d asked him why he’d written to
her, he’d shaken his head. “It’s not from me,” he’d said. She’d
stared at him, confused. “You’ll understand once you read it,”
he’d told her.
As she approached Jo’s, she felt the trace of a memory stir to life.
Something that happened on the night of the fire. Something she’d
seen but she couldn’t quite place. Just as she felt her mind closing
in on it, the memory slipped away. She slowed as she drew nearer
to Jo’s house, a frown of confusion creasing her face.
There were cobwebs on the window, and a shutter had fallen to
the ground where it lay shattered in the grass. The porch railing
was broken and she could see weeds sprouting between the
planks. Her eyes took in everything, but she was unable to process
the scene before her: a rusted doorknob, half dangling from the