They keep telling me that I should just let her go, let that night rest and move on with my life.
They don't realise that I still wake up in the middle of the night, sobbing for Chance and sobbing for myself and sobbing for the fucked-up world with...
The next morning, I get into school at an average time — wanting to let Greene read what I wrote of my conversation with Max last night, but also not wanting to stay there for ages.
"Rory..." Greene looks up, surprised when I barge into his room. "You had me thinking that you wouldn't be coming."
"Well, I'm here now." I huff and shove my journal of sorts across the table. "That's all I remember."
Putting on his rectangle-shaped reading glasses, he squints down at my half-scrawled, half-neat handwriting. It's legible, but maybe it's not the lettering he's squinting at it. Maybe it's just what he's reading.
A segment of the unhinged undoing of Chance Noah Harn.
He folds it shut quietly and passes it back to me. "You are going to try and remember what else happened, aren't you?"
"There must've been more to that night." I insist, "I mean, if not that night specifically, events leading up to it. People don't just up and run unless they've been thinking about it for a while."
Greene purses his lips and nods slowly, and I can tell he's not really been listening to me. "You probably already know the local police have informed me of their investigation into Chance's disappearance."
I did not know that, but I nod my head all the while, feeling the need to add: "They didn't find a body. Or any of her blood, or anything tying it to her. I'm not saying she didn't disappear; I'm just saying they didn't find anything."
"And you think you, of all people, will?" There's a trace of a smirk, a heavily anticipated chuckle on his thin lips.
"I knew her best. Know her best." I correct myself. Trying to sound as confident as possible. Trying not to let him sway my certainty.
But did I really know her best? I didn't have any clue that she was planning to run away. Sure, things had been hard for her for the previous few months... but I never would've guessed that she'd think she could solve everything by just disappearing.
I pass the school day in a trance. Barely even talking to Max, avoiding Lilia entirely. Somehow making it through my lessons without getting yelled at.
There is only one thing from today that truly sticks with me — a few handfuls of words on a scrap of paper that I found on the floor of the library. It's a simple quote, though I can't find who it's attributed to.
to understand another person, you must swim in the same waters that drowned them
It sticks with me because to understand Chance, and what happened to her, I have to put myself in the same situation as her. While I don't plan on swimming in the waterfall that supposedly drowned her, I sure as hell won't let that stop me from figuring out the truth.
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The end of the day couldn't come quick enough, though neither could the urge to escape my own home.
I've barely been home 10 minutes before I grab my coat and the Count and make my way to the beach. Dr Greene, the overqualified, underpaid school counsellor is well and truly in my head. And I want him out of it; I don't want him psyching me out, no matter if he's trying to help or not.
