Bury Us Alive | Hemlock Grove|

Chapter 3 | What Gets You |

"Where'd Peter go?" Roman asks.

"He's over there." She nods towards him. The girl seems interested, she's smiling at least. She shoots him a thumbs up. In the far corner of the bar, there's one woman who stares instantly at Roman. It's nothing unusual, women tend to do that. This one is different, she doesn't stare at him with lust, rather interest. Emma catches her eye- then she's gone.

"Want another drink?" The bartender offers Roman. She's good at her job, speaking in a way that is suggestive, but not so much to upset a girlfriend. Roman nods. "Another for her as well." The glasses appear quickly and are empty almost as fast.

"There hasn't been another," he says somberly.

"Huh?"

"The uh... The animal attack. There hasn't been another one, and Destiny can't get a reading on anything."

"That's good," she says.

"I'm not so sure about that." Roman motions for another drink. "Christina's body is missing," he says lowly, using the loud music as a blanket. "But there hasn't been another attack. It seems like an isolated incident. Peter couldn't smell anything unusual when he was out."

"That all sounds positive, Roman."

"I just have a feeling. I don't want this sneak up on us with everything else going on."

"I think you should focus on Nadia," she hesitates before saying the child's name.

"I am-"

"Just focus on Nadia. If anything else happens we can check it out, but now isn't the time to worry about it."

"How are you not worried about this?" He asks.

"Bold of you to assume I'm not." Emma sips at her drink with a smirk.

"Well, are you?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Why would I be?"

"Uh- y'know, maybe the constantly lingering prophecy of your death," he says with a sarcastic casualness in his tone. Emma shrugs, uninterested. "After all this time, you are still a mystery."

"Thank you."

"Of course," he says and picks up his half-empty glass. She mirrors him and clinks them together.

"What are we toasting to?"

"Me fucking up the case today-"

"No, you didn't-"

"Yes, I did-"

"I told you from the beginning they're going to be inclined to give custody over to Olivia. It would basically take an act of God to change that."

"It's just crazy to know all these things about her and not be able to share them." Roman finishes his drink. "If only people knew."

"If only..." Emma agrees. She wonders what other things Olivia had done that she hadn't seen. She has a hard time imagining that Roman even recognizes his own trauma. Trauma is a heavy word and it lingers like a bitter poison on her tongue. It never feels right to use on oneself. Trauma is what soldiers return home with after a tour in a war-torn country.

Drinks, drinks, and more drinks. A higher drinking tolerance and a fading tan is all she has left of the summer. Roman's in the middle of a sentence- something or another about work- when she abruptly excuses herself to the bathroom. The bar is more crowded than she'd noticed, and when she finally pushes her way into the bathroom she feels sick.

Behind the closed stall door, she takes a moment to close her eyes in a pathetic attempt to feel soberer. It works for a moment, but not long enough. She washes her hands slowly and stares at them with all her concentration. When she glances up at her reflection, she sees Olivia Godfrey standing behind her. She frantically turns around, water flying off of her soapy hands, to look for her. But behind her is only a woman waiting for a stall to open.