The Other Side

By YvetteRussell

518K 897 170

Lenore almost had everything she wanted. In just a few short months, she'd graduate early from high school, s... More

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26

Chapter 20

266 29 32
By YvetteRussell

The rain lashed at the bedroom window worse than ever. Lenore didn't understand what the hell was going on with this increasingly weird weather. This corner of the country wasn't usually prone to these kinds of storms. Tornados usually struck where the land flattened out, not in the foothills. She'd overheard the news calling it 'the storm of the decade, if not the century.'

Despite the downpour, the police were still out in full force. Lenore could hardly see through her rain-lashed windows, but she could see their wobbling flashing as they went in and out of the woods at the edge of her yard. Regardless of what they thought of her and her family, she was thankful they were braving the weather in their search for Victor.

If Victor was out there in this weather, he had to be at risk of hypothermia. Or worse...

She shuddered and tightened her arms around herself, gripping at the sleeves of her sweater. Even though she was safe inside, all bundled up, she shivered, like the ice-cold rain was dripping down her back.

They had to find Victor. They had to.

If they didn't...

Her lip trembled, and she buried her teeth into it to keep it still.

She couldn't let herself give in to the threat of tears.

Not when she still had hope.

She did her best to focus on positive thoughts. When she imagined where Victor had gone, she tried to picture scenarios where he'd found shelter in the storm.

Maybe had stumbled and twisted his ankle, losing his phone in the fall. Maybe he had tried to crawl his way out, but when it started getting dark, he had to find shelter. Maybe he had hidden away in the mausoleum where they had first met while he waited for help to come...

If that was the case, then help was close. Her mother had kept her word to let the cops search their half of the woods, and they were now crawling through them, searching every nook and cranny. But as she thought of the mausoleum, she wondered if they'd thought to check inside. She wondered if she should go out into the rain to tell the police officers about it, just in case—

She was halfway out of the chair when there was a knock at her door. She turned in time to see her mother's face appear in the open crack.

"Oh," her mother said, her eyes widening at the sight of her daughter. "You're up. You've been so quiet, I thought you might've finally fallen asleep."

Lenore just stared back at her mother. "Obviously not."

Her mother cleared her throat and looked away, at a loss. It was like Lenore had interrupted her plans or something. When she looked back at her daughter, her features had softened, but there was something hard and distant in her eyes.

"How are you holding up?"

How do you think? Lenore wanted to snap back, but she held her tongue. She didn't have the strength to get into a petty fight with her mother. There were more important things to worry about.

She turned back to the window, looking out into the storm.

Her mother crept into the room, coming up to her side.

"Have you been watching them this whole time?" her mother said, her voice fraught with worry as she tried to squint through the rain to the busy crowd at the edge of their yard.

Lenore gave a silent nod.

"You can hardly see anything through this rain."

"Doesn't matter," Lenore said. She was sure that if something did happen, if they did find him, she'd be able to tell. "Have you heard anything?"

"No," her mother said quickly. It almost sounded like she wanted to laugh. "Not that they'd tell me anything if they had."

Lenore knew her mother was probably right about that. She thought back to her tense conversation with Officer Harris. He had been so cold to her, but she now understood why.

He was their father, her mother said. The missing twins. Her aunt's guilt. Even if basic logic said that she couldn't possibly have any involvement in that crime, he still probably hated her, too.

His daughter—stepdaughter—didn't, though. She, of all people, had a right to hate Lenore right alongside her stepdad.

And yet she didn't.

As she thought of Fiona, she wondered if she was out there, watching the same search from the other side of the forest. She wished she could reach out, but Officer Harris still had her phone.

"Why don't you come downstairs?" her mother offered. "I can make you a cup of tea."

"I don't want tea. I want to keep watching them."

"You can have a cup of tea and watch them from the kitchen window," her mother pressed. "I bet the view is better. You can't even see them up here."

Lenore grit her teeth. Couldn't her mother get the hint? "I can see them just fine from here!"

As if the weather obeyed her will, the wind shifted its direction, and the rain angled away from the house, finally allowing her a clear view through the window.

The many flashlight beams had converged on the mouth of the path, focussed on a pair of officers that were now stepping out of the forest. One of them was cradling something in their arms.

"Wait!" Lenore cried, rushing forward to press her hands against the glass. "They have something!"

Her mother joined her at the window. "They did? What is it?" Her voice was equal parts hopeful and scared. "Did they find him?"

Lenore shook her head. Whatever they were carrying was too small to be a person. But she could tell it was something important because of how the crowd reacted. The searchers appeared frenzied, the beams of their flashlight now scattered across the yard, and they ran to and fro.

The rain began to beat against the window again, obscuring their view.

"I wonder what it could be," her mother began, leaning back. "Maybe it's—"

Lenore didn't let her finish her thought. She turned and ran from the room, making it to the stairs before her mother realised what she was doing.

"Lenore, wait! You can't go out there!"

But that was exactly where she was going. She didn't care that the weather was horrible or that her mother didn't approve. She wasn't going to wait to be doled out whatever sanitised version of events she'd inevitably be fed. She wanted—needed—to know the real truth, even as the cold blade of fear was already working its way through her insides.

She slipped and slid down the stairs and then burst into the kitchen.

Delilah was still there, at the table, nursing what had to be her hundredth cup of tea. She looked up in shock when Lenore thundered through.

"Where are you going?" she sputtered as Lenore shoved her feet into whatever old boots were close by the door.

Lenore didn't bother answering. She wrenched open the back door, pushed back the screen, and threw herself onto the porch. The rain was back to its full strength, slashing at her even under the cover of the porch.

A cluster of lights had split off from the group and was now heading her way.

Lenore took a deep breath and dove into the rain. It quickly soaked her and sent her teeth chattering as its icy grip took hold. It was almost horizontal now, and she had to lean into it to make any ground.

After struggling for what seemed like forever, Lenore stumbled across the group of police officers as they made their way up the path. It took them a moment to notice her, but soon all their flashlights honed in on her face, blinding her.

"Hey!" one of them shouted. "You shouldn't be out here!"

"Someone get her back to the house," another snapped, "before she sees anything!"

Two officers stepped away from the group and took her by the arms, pulling her back towards the porch.

But it was too late. She had already seen what the officer was carrying. It was a large plastic bag with a large label of EVIDENCE printed on its front.

And inside was what looked like a wad of dirty, stained fabric...

It took Lenore a moment to realise that she recognized it. Or at least part of it. The fabric was filthy, but there were a few clean patches of green and a silver zipper zig-zagging across the front. The fabric was actually a sweater, a green hoodie—just like the one Victor had been wearing when she had last seen him.

Lenore's legs went weak. She sagged in the officers' arms, and they scrambled to catch her before she fell to the sodden ground.

The hoodie in the bag wasn't just dirty.

It had been drenched with a deep, mottled red...

As realization took hold, all Lenore could do was scream.

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