Red Moon Rising

46. wrong

Chapter Song: Zombie - The Cranberries

XX

It's hard to forget about him in this place. There are traces of Sam in every corner of the kitchen, messy notes scrawled on top of stained recipe cards, haphazardly organized cupboards, meticulously arranged spices. It's hard to look at these things and try to ignore the weight of my heart being wrenched to the floor. It's hard not to look at the brick column, long since clean of blood, but still bearing the spidering impact of the bullet.

Reiner hasn't forgotten either. I watch him from the cafeteria window as he tries to eat while his gaze is torn to that bit of chipped brick. When he looks my way, I turn back to the kitchen and begin to clean up after breakfast. I wish I didn't have to see the pain in his eyes and remember my own. I've been trying to do what Isaac asked; for a week I've been trying to move on. But somehow the memory of Sam only becomes more firmly etched into my brain.

"Layla." I jump at the hands that settle onto my hips. Isaac leans into my back and presses me against the cool countertop, his lips finding their way to my neck. "Come back to the room."

"Aren't you patrolling this morning?"

"I can be late." He kisses along my jaw before slipping away from me, and I know, like always, that I am meant to follow. I've tried to be better this week—not just better, but perfect. I've tried to be what he wants.

It feels like living at a distance, and it's more comfortable than I would have imagined. When I lean back into his chest, it's like someone else is receiving his embrace, someone else is shivering beneath the teeth sliding over my neck.

And I'm about to ruin the peace between us.

"Isaac," I whisper, and by the way his fingers tighten into me, I know he sense the tension in my body.

"What?"

"Where did you bury him?"

Isaac is quiet, lips brushing absentmindedly up to my ear. "The ground is still frozen, Layla." He says my name like the ending of an argument.

"Where—"

"It's done. You have to let it go, okay?"

"I just want to know—"

"Layla," he says, and there's an edge to his voice that makes me fall silent. "I'm done talking about this."

I nod and try to swallow back the tears threatening. He doesn't want to tell me because he knows it will only upset me more, which means that Sam's body is likely buried in snow somewhere beyond the school yard. I want to ask if he's been covered, if he's protected from animals that wander in at dusk. But I just nod and brush my fingers over one of the hands gripping my hips.

"Go ahead," I manage in a voice that's steadier than I expect. "I'll follow you in a second."

"I don't want you to bring him up again."

"Isaac..."

"Okay? You're only making yourself more upset."

"I know. I'm sorry."

He sighs against my neck before stepping away from me, and I can't bring myself to turn and look at him. If he sees how upset I am, he'll only be more frustrated. Instead, I begin to pile dishes in the sink, aware of Isaac's presence hovering in the kitchen behind me.

"Layla," he says quietly over the rush of hot water over dirty dishes. "It'll get better."

He waits a moment for me to respond, and when I don't, he slips quietly from the kitchen without another word. I've wanted to ask him, for so long I've wanted to learn what became of Sam. I've been so focused on the question that I posed it at a terrible time, and now I'll have to go back to our bedroom and face a version of Isaac that is less gentle, less forgiving than usual. He was trying to be loving toward me and I brought up someone else.