I had been awaiting John's return for ten minutes now. The wind thrust its way in through the backdoor, causing me to tighten my robe around myself. I ignored the bounce in my knee and folded my arms. Should I have gone out there with him to look? I felt much safer here. But I felt a lot safer knowing John wasn't putting himself in danger back there.
"Alright, Angie. There's nothing and no one back there." John closed the backdoor as he stepped inside. He kicked the dirt off his shoes before slipping them off.
"Are you sure?" I stretched on my toes to peek over his shoulder.
"Yes, babe." He walked towards me, pressing a kiss to my lips. His hands then found my cheeks, smothering them together. "I have no idea what happened tonight. I'm just glad you're safe and unharmed. Next time, call me as soon as something like this happens. Please?" I couldn't ignore the concern on his face. I nodded. He must have thought I was going insane too.
"I'm sorry." I bowed my head, glaring at the floor.
He used his finger to lift my chin, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Come on, let's eat. I brought Chinese food." He nodded towards the kitchen. Now that I wasn't as scared, I could smell the food. Oh geez. I'd been so focused on the situation, food slipped my mind.
"You both sound like you need it." He chuckled. I blushed at the sound of my stomach gurgling. John led the way into the kitchen, and I willingly followed.
Once we were both settled and everything was calm again, we began to indulge in conversation. It was the same as any other day. I asked him about his day at work, whether he spent all day at the station, patrolling, or out on the field.
My knowledge only went so far in his profession. His work hours were normally forty hours a week unless he was adding on night shifts and whatever other emergency call-ins. He asked me how my painting class went. We talked about any and everything except Cory.
"Oh, yeah! I forgot to tell you, I have a message from some important people," John said.
I frowned. "What? Who?"
"Today, I met with the parents of Mary Drake—Edward and Lucinda. They were eager to invite you to the memorial service." He shoved some lo mein into his mouth, awaiting my response.
I sat back and tilted my head to the side, scrunching my face. "They invited me to Mary Drake's memorial?"
"Mhm." He nodded.
"Um, why?" I hesitated. Not that I had a problem with it, but I didn't think I deserved to be there. It felt like I was intruding into someone's personal life. I didn't know the first thing about Mary or her family.
"Well, Lucinda and Edward said they wanted to thank you. So, they want you to stop by so they can show their appreciation. She said it will be a small service in their home until they can hold a proper funeral when Mary's remains are returned to them."
"Oh," I mumbled.
"Here"—he pulled out a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his shirt—"this is the address. The memorial starts at 3:30 if you decide to go. Your classes are only from one to three, so that works perfectly for you."
"Okay," I said and took the paper. He smiled at me, then went back to eating. The rest of the night went on like that, smiling at each other and eating in silence.
* * *
The hardened ground beneath my feet felt like rubble. October had already frozen over the air, so I wasn't surprised that the front lawn of the Drake residence was covered in solid grass. I could feel moisture against the skin on my cheek.
Tiny droplets fell from the sky, but there wasn't enough to turn the dirt into mud yet. If I'd known it was going to rain today, I would have worn a more comfortable pair of boots rather than my heels.
I spent most of the time in my car, wondering whether my attire was good enough for the occasion. I only threw on a simple pair of slacks, my booted heels, and an all-black dress shirt, nothing too fancy. I had probably missed half of the service by now. It was five minutes past four. I tried my best to get here on time, but I couldn't find the house.
I blew out a breath and studied the small house in front of me. Rose bushes decorated the front entrance, along with two medium-sized stone steps that led to the door, which was open. The door was black as the rest of the house was gray, with three large white outlined windows in the front. It was the perfect family home. Almost too perfect.
I continued down the stone pathway. Turning around to get back in my car and drive away was tempting. I'd had enough funerals for the year. Though I'd only been to one, that was enough.
My chest tightened as I neared the open door. A picture of Mary sat on a display stand at the entrance, greeting everyone who entered. In her hands was an honor roll certificate. My guess was that it was given during a stepping-up ceremony from kindergarten to first grade, judging by the yellow cap and gown.
Damn. She was only in first grade at the time of her disappearance, and that sucked to think about. It only made the situation harder to forget. I pried my eyes away from the picture and walked deeper into the house.
"And she will be missed dearly," said a voice.
Commotion echoed from another room. When I entered the hallway, candles lit the narrow space. I followed the candles straight until a large room came into view on my right side. I assumed it was the living room because couches were moved to the side for chairs to fit.
They'd been positioned into rows. Tons of people filled the chairs, dressed in all-black. Others were standing around or sitting on the floor, considering there wasn't enough space for everyone.
"Again, I want to thank everyone for coming . . . family, friends, teachers . . . Mary would have loved this, seeing all of you, that is," a woman with blonde hair spoke. The roots of her hair were brown, so I could only assume it was dyed.
Her hands gripped onto the side of the podium in front of her, a slight shake visible in her fingers. Leeched onto her words were soft whimpers as if her voice was cracking. She reminded me of myself when I spoke at Cory's funeral. There was a man standing beside her. His black hair was slicked back, his beard disheveled.
I hid behind the wall, watching the service go on.
"I can't believe our little girl was taken from us so soon. She'd only experienced six years of the world, but I'm sure she enjoyed every second of it. And though we may not have gotten to see her one last time, her memory will remain. I remember holding her in my arms for the first time. Eleanor here"—she pointed to a girl I hadn't noticed when I walked in—"was so happy to finally become a big sister."
The girl she was referring to looked just like Mary, except her cheeks weren't chunky, nor was her hair straight and long. She couldn't have been any older than fifteen.
"When we discovered you were gone, we had hope. We held onto the positivity that one day you'd be found. And you were." She nearly choked at the end of her sentence. My heart went out to her. I rubbed the side of my arms, the shivers escalating. A gloomy aura clouded the house as grief was shared among everyone.
"I know you are up in heaven now. And the person who did this to you will rot in hell. They'll pay for what they did and be punished for their crimes. May Mary's spirit live on. My little girl will always be here with us at heart.
"I know you're up there waving down at us right now, smiling as wide as you always did. So long, my beautiful child. Mommy, daddy, and your big sister will always love you. Thank you." She removed herself from the stand.
I inhaled sharply, stuffing my hands in my pockets. What happened next was a smooth transition into the end of the service. Following Lucinda's eulogy, there were a few more thank yous. Then, everyone scattered like roaches.
* * *
"I'm so glad you could make it. Your husband told me lots about you!" Lucinda threw her arms around me as if we were old friends and not complete strangers. Normally, I'd panic and make a scene. I didn't know her, and she was getting too comfortable for Rosemary's and my taste.
But I found her daughter's bones. And she was deep in grief. So, I had no choice but to let it slide.
"I'm sorry I was late. I had trouble finding your house. . ." I apologized.
She waved me off, smiling. "That's fine. You came. That's all that matters. Edward and I can't thank you enough. I'm sorry he's not here to greet you right now. I have no idea where he went. Ah, he probably went to help all the other guests. Anyways, help yourself to anything."
Being an observer, I also knew when people tried their best to be happy. It was very similar to art. I could paint a picture as realistic as I wanted to, but it would never be real. It'd only be an illusion. Right now, her smile wasn't real. It was a smile that screamed, I'm trying my hardest. But I knew the truth. Her hardest was her weakest point. And her smile didn't reach her ears, barely curved, for that matter.
"Oh no, that's okay," I refused.
"Are you sure?" she persisted.
I nodded. "Yes, I'm okay. I'm just happy to be able to give my condolences—" I paused.
As I breathed, I inhaled the smell of something tangy and sweet. At first, the scent did nothing to affect me. That was until I breathed again. My nose twitched in irritation as my insides curled. I tried to open my mouth again, but my tongue cowered away as something else slithered up my throat.
"Excuse me, may I use your bathroom?" I panicked.
"Oh, yes. When you go upstairs, it'll be to your right," she said. A frown masked her face as she tilted her head. She tried to get a better look at me, but I was too busy planning my escape. "Um, are you okay?"
"No, no . . . I mean, yeah, I-I'm. . ." I could barely finish my sentence. Backing away, the chunks in my throat shot up faster. Nausea hit me like a bucket of ice, and I sped off.