I sat in the rocking chair, watching over Mama as she slept, exhausted from another nightmare. My thoughts raced as I sat in her room, the serenity of my surroundings doing nothing to calm my mind.
My first priority was to protect Mama and Sara, that was a given. But I couldn’t shake the other issue that weighed so heavily on my mind. Over the last year, it was a passing thought, but now I knew it was inevitable.
When I was sure Mama was sleeping soundly, I made my exit from her room and met Sara in her office/craft room. I silently watched her for a moment as she organized different sized ribbons in a bucket. It was obvious she was deep in thought. I didn’t want to disrupt her, but I had to get my own thoughts out in the open and get her opinion.
“Hey.” Taking a seat on the floor next to her, I grabbed the hot glue gun and wrapped the cord around it tightly before placing it next to the glue sticks in the woven basket.
“Hey,” she repeated, tossing the roll of ribbon into the bucket next to various plastic pumpkins and pine cones. Then she organized them so they lay in perfect order.
“I think I want to ask Jackson for a divorce,” I blurted out, unable to keep it to myself a moment longer.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she picked at the chipped, black polish on her thumbnail.
“Hello? I could use your input.” My voice came out a little snippy, which wasn’t my intention.
“I think it’s about damn time.” She shrugged and then crossed her arms.
“You do?” My voice became softer, and I realized maybe this decision wasn’t out of left field after all.
“Well, yeah. Listen, I know he was your first love, and he’s all you know. But damn, you deserve better than the bullshit he’s put you through. He’s fucked up these days, Rach. And if he can’t get his shit together, then it’s time to let it go. Life is too fucking short to live it the way you have been.”
Her points were all valid, and she was absolutely right.
“I mean, there’s someone out there who will treat you so much better than what you’ve been getting.” She lifted her left brow and stared at me.
“I’m not interested in getting with anyone else. That’s not even on my radar. I think I’ll be fine being alone—happy, even.” When the words came out of my mouth, I actually believed them.
“Well, you’ll never be alone. You can’t get rid of me.” She smiled big, sticking her index finger in the dimple on her left cheek that she was blessed with.
“I know that all too well.” I giggled as she stuck her middle finger in my direction while sticking her tongue out at me.
The muffled ring of my cell began to sound from my purse in the living room. I stood and went to grab it, worried it was Jackson. I knew I would talk to him, I just needed to wait until the right time. And right now wasn’t it, not on the phone. And definitely not at Sara’s house.
I grabbed my cell and saw a number I didn’t recognize scroll across the screen. Part of me didn’t want to answer it, and fear leaped into my throat. But I slid my finger across the screen anyway.
“Hello?” I tried to hide my anxiousness as I made my way back to the craft room.
“Yes ma’am, is this Rachel Fisher?” A strong, prominent Southern accent rang in my ear.
“It is.” I glanced down at Sara who was still sitting on the floor and gave her a nervous look, immediately thinking it was the police ready to interrogate me.
“Hello, dear. This is Wanda, Amie’s sister-in-law. I understand you work for her.” Her voice was soft, but there was pain latched to it that caused a lump to form in my throat.
“Yes. Is she okay? Did her husband find her?” My stomach was tied in knots waiting for her answer, which took way too long. I needed to know she was okay, that she just took off and she hadn’t been caught up in this whole evil mess.
“They found her.” Her voice came across raspy and emotional.
No. No. No.
“She’s okay?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.
“No, she’s not. I can’t give out details, but she’s no longer with us. God rest her soul. My brother, Benjamin, asked me to call to let you know. He wanted you to know he will make sure you get paid until you find another job, dear. He would have called himself, but he’s very distraught.”
“Oh my God.” My voice cracked and I tried to gather my thoughts enough to finish the conversation. “No, it’s fine. Tell him not to worry about that. I’m so sorry for his loss. For your loss. I’m sorry,” I rambled until she finally cut me off.
“Thank you, honey. But Benji was adamant that you get paid. He said Amie always bragged about what a great employee you were. I’m sure he will contact you soon, or I will if he asks.”
“Thank you. She was the best boss anyone could ever ask for,” I spoke quietly into the receiver.
“I’m sure she was. You take care of yourself now, okay, dear?” Her accent dripped like honey in my ear.
“Yes, ma’am. Same to you.”
“Bye-bye now.” She ended the call, and I dropped the phone onto the floor.
Sara came to my side in an instant.
“She’s dead,” I whispered while staring at the fibers of plush carpet at my feet.
Guilt riddled me, washed over me, consumed me.
“Stop. I know what you’re thinking, but you need to stop right now,” Sara demanded, and I peered in her direction. “This isn’t your fault. Don’t think that way. We don’t even know for sure it’s him, but if so, it’s still not your fault. He was crazy a long time ago—you didn’t cause that. You didn’t make him evil, Satan himself had a hand in that, and you know it.” She did everything to reassure me, but I wasn’t so sure.
“But he’s coming after me because he saw me. He knows I left him there to die. He wants to punish me,” I whimpered, leaning into my sister.
“Did he ever need a reason to punish us? Did he?” Sara’s voice sounded angry, but I knew it wasn’t toward me.
“No.” I shook my head.
“For all we know, he doesn’t even remember you seeing him. He was in a fucking coma for years. He’s fucked up in the head, period. You know that, Rachel. Stop blaming yourself because he’s the fucking devil.” Everything she said made sense, and I wanted to believe it.
“Maybe I should go to the police and just tell them my theory.” My hands began to shake, and the thought of doing so scared the hell out of me, but I couldn’t let more people die and not say anything.
“Maybe,” she replied, and part of me wished she would try to convince me otherwise.
But she didn’t.
I knew the right thing to do, and as scared as I was, I had to do it.