Questions for Answers

Chapter One

Everyone knew my story, so I was treated like a celebrity; but not in a good way. People bombarded me with questions about what happened to my parents, or if they were bad people. I had no privacy and always felt like I had to watch my back.

Aside from that, life was pretty normal until recently. The nightmares came back, and I couldn't shake the feeling that they meant something. I agreed with Kat that I should try going back to the house, but I wasn't sure. Even if the police left something behind, would the new family even give it to me? I didn't know.

My free period passed and I met Kat for history. We mostly read and took notes on a movie. Then it was time for physics.

I took my seat and saw today was the assessment. Ms. Kentri had warned us a week ago. The class filled, and she passed out the test papers.

"As I pass out this assessment, I want no talking," she said. "It's also not open book, so put away all notebooks and textbooks. Don't write on the test; you'll use a scantron. You have two hours. Turn in your test when finished and you'll be free to leave. Keep your eyes on your paper or it's an automatic zero. You may begin."

I tried focusing on the test but got distracted, remembering everything from that night. Waking up sick, stepping in warm blood on the wooden floor, my mother's deep throat slits and gash revealing her organs, the terror of seeing my father tied up and shot, his eyes gouged out.

It couldn't have been random. My parents had regular jobs. Who would want to hurt them? There weren't any serial killers in Michigan, especially not where we lived. Why were they murdered? And why was I left alive?

Maybe it was a message. I was too young to understand. The police were secretive. They tried to convince me they died peacefully, that I didn't see what I did. But I never forgot.

"River?" Ms. Kentri's voice pulled me back.

I looked up, confused. The classroom was empty. "What's going on? Where is everyone?"

She gave a sad look. "Sweetie, everyone left. Two hours have passed. You're the only one still here."

"What? No, we just started. I haven't even written my name."

She sighed. "You seemed lost in thought. I have to collect your test now."

I shook my head, disappointed. "Ms. Kentri, please, five more minutes. I didn't realize. This will drop my grade to a C."

"River-"

"Please. The nightmares... they came back. I can't focus in class or even when my friend talks to me. This isn't normal. I'm traumatized. That's why I'm not doing well. I don't know what to do."

Ms. Kentri sat beside me. "I can only imagine what you're going through. I think seeing the school therapist could help. I know therapy didn't work when you were little, but you're older now. Give it another chance. As for the test, I can't give you more time. It wouldn't be fair. I want the best for you, River. I'm sorry you're struggling. I can offer extra credit later, but I have to grade this as is."

I almost broke down, but I knew it was my fault. I nodded. "Okay. Thanks. Have a nice day."

I got up and went to the hallway. Kat found me. "Hey, I thought you left."

"I was just finishing up. What's up?"

"You ready to go to the house?"

"The house? Now?"

She giggled. "Yeah, silly. When else? The sooner the better. Let's go before it gets late."

I hesitated but followed her to the car. I wasn't sure, but if it helped stop the nightmares or gave any type of closure, I needed to try. It was only twenty minutes away.

Kat looked at me. "You okay? You're quiet."

I sighed. "I'm nervous. They never found my parents' killers. What if they moved in as a sick joke and answer the door to finish the job?"

She gave me a concerned look. "You have a wild imagination."

I laughed softly. "I'm serious. Or what if seeing the house triggers a panic attack?"

Kat held my hand. "Calm down. I'll go with you if you want. We won't leave without answers."

"We'll see when we get there." I gently pulled my hand away.

One turn and the street came into view. The neighborhood I'd tried to forget. We passed Brenda's house and stopped in front of mine.

It was mostly the same. The fence was up, the outside was repainted a bright grey, and most of the trees were cut down.

I took a deep breath and stepped out, looking back to see Kat's thumbs-up. I laughed and faced the door.

Just before knocking, a flashback hit; me at six, frantically knocking Brenda's door.

My hand shook. I steadied it and rang the doorbell instead.

I hoped no one lived here so I could enter, but I knew better.

The door opened. An older woman stood there. I smiled. "Hi, I'm River Ashton. I used to live here. When you moved in, was there anything left after the police searched the place?"

She looked me up and down. "You're Vivian and Richard Ashton's daughter, yes? It's a shame what happened to them. The whole town was shaken. Now you're back to do what exactly?"

I gave her a weird look. "I was hoping my parents left something. I didn't get anything when everything happened."

She shook her head. "Poor baby, this place was picked clean. They checked everywhere."

"That can't be right. Were there any books or anything the police took?"

Her mood changed. She stepped back. "I told you there's nothing here. Now go home."

Confused, I didn't say more. She slammed the door.

I turned and walked back to the car, frowning.

Kat could tell. "Why are you back empty-handed? Did she slam the door?"

"She did. Just take me home," I said, defeated.

She respected my silence and started the car.

I didn't know why I let myself hope. The police were thorough. Even if something was left, would it help?

I needed help. Maybe I did need to see the school therapist.

"We're here," Kat said outside my house.

I hugged her. "Thanks for the Uber. I should start tipping you."

She laughed. "I was thinking the same."

I got out. "See you tomorrow."

She waved and drove off.

Trisha, my adoptive mom, greeted me. "How was school?"

"It was fine," I said dryly and went to my room.

I shared it with Tilly, my closest sibling.

She asked, "What's wrong with you? Favorite show got canceled? Someone ate your pizza?"

"No pizza was eaten," I said, sighing. "I just feel like a failure."

She frowned. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Maybe later." I sulked in bed and scrolled social media until I passed out.