Two days later, the whole Burnham family picks me up at Riverglen. This is so strange. As I climb into the backseat of my other dad’s Prius, I glance over at Jason, who has earbuds in, playing something on his Nintendo. I’m tempted to flick the back of his head like Liv would’ve but I’m wary of startling him.
“We cleaned Liv’s room out for you,” Mom says.
“Thanks. And sorry. You probably weren’t ready.”
“No, it gave me the push I needed.” She’s smiling, trying to be cheerful, but I can see that this is hard. They probably never imagined that the papers they signed out of goodwill would end with them responsible for someone else’s kid.
But I’ll be off to college in less than a year. Ten months. For me it feels like a reprieve, a chance to say an extended farewell to my family before I go.
“Welcome to the Burnham Group,” my dad says. “There are no housekeepers where you’re headed so you’d better get used to chores.”
“Grant,” Mom chides.
Their familiar banter makes me smile. “It’s fine. It’s not like I never visited you guys before. I know the drill.”
Jason still hasn’t said a word to me, but he didn’t talk that much to Liv either, unless she forcibly removed his electronics and put her face right next to his. He doesn’t know me well enough for that, yet. Maybe one day he’ll look on me as a foster sister.
Maybe. And maybe someday my parents will look on me affectionately, like I’m almost a replacement for the daughter they lost. That hope is enough to keep me going.
The drive takes three hours and they don’t pester me to chat. No reporters ambush us as we pull into the driveway. A rush of homesickness hits me in a drowning wave; I know every inch of this house, every smell, every stain. I can’t wait to go inside.
“I hope you’ll be happy here,” Dad says gruffly.
“I’m sure I will be.”
My clothes are already in the closet when I get to my old room, courtesy of Mrs. Rhodes. My mom explains, “We’re leaving the housekeeper at the estate for now … as a caretaker. As your guardian, I attended the reading of your father’s will, and he left almost everything to you. Stocks, bonds, controlling interest in Frost Tech—”
“Just tell me how much you need for room and board.” Offering to pay for my keep is the least I can do, but she reacts like I slapped her.
“Morgan, no. Liv would want us to take care of you. I’ll leave you to get settled. In case you forgot, dinner is at six, and I’ll need you to set the table.”
“No problem. But … what should I call you?”
“Jeannie is fine,” she says with a tentative smile.
I wave as she heads down the hall toward the kitchen. Closing the door, I take in the changes to my old room. They’ve repainted so it’s pale cream and there are new curtains, new bedding in abstract silver-and-gray patterns. Jeannie left all the mementos of my friendship with Liv, though really it’s a monument to the time before—before two became one. As for the décor, Morgan would’ve liked it, I think. Since the gun went off, I haven’t sensed her at all or smelled her mother’s perfume. The unopened bottle of Clinique Happy is on my dresser like a reminder.
Was it enough? I finished what you started.
More or less.
I plug in my laptop, marveling at small freedoms I took for granted before Riverglen. Now I can waste as much time as I want on the Internet. My phone is back in my possession, too, but I’ve gotten used to the silence. Online, there are more updates on Creepy Jack’s prison sentence and other officials he may have implicated. The charges are piling up.
Clicking another link, I find updates on another mystery. They’re finding bodies now, the girls who went missing, the ones who look like me or maybe more accurately, my mother. No new disappearances have been registered since my father died. I remember the bloody friendship bracelet in Morgan’s room and try not to imagine where and how she found it. There are questions unanswered and I wonder now how much time he spent with his girlfriend and what might have happened to her if she eventually disappointed him?
I’m better off without these answers. Morgan only meant to find out what happened to her mother; she couldn’t have imagined how deep the secret river ran. As for me, I’m done poking around in dark corners. Any debt between Morgan and me, it’s discharged.
The world is wide open with the sun shining overhead. It’s time for me to stretch, look around, and appreciate the fact that I’m still alive. I completed the mission, and I’m still here. My second shot at life is a gift, not a glitch.
For long moments, I stare at my phone before deciding to turn it on. I’m inundated with missed calls, voice-mail messages, and old texts. No, I’m not interested in selling my story. No, I don’t want to be featured on that daytime talk show or help a ghostwriter put together a screenplay. Most of it is awful, so I delete the rest without reading or listening. But this is starting to feel like a gauntlet that will eventually end. I’ve seen the shelf life of other scandals, and it’s not like Creepy Jack was a presidential candidate.
This, too, shall pass.
Once I’ve cleaned out the junk, I can focus on messages from people I know. There are a few from Oscar and company; the science club doesn’t have my number. My heart turns over when I see how many I have from Clay. He must’ve known I couldn’t reply, and yet as I scroll back, I see he’s sent me a message for every single day I was away.
I’m thinking of you.
I miss you.
I’m waiting for you.
There are eighteen of these texts and I read them like they’re Pulitzer Prize material. By the time I get to the end, today’s message, my hands are shaking. I’m crying, and I don’t know why. This is what I couldn’t do with Dr. Lasky.
Despite tear-blurred eyes, I send back, I’m home.
He’s probably at work, so I won’t hear back for a while. I plug my phone in and go set the table. That night I spend enough time with the family in the living room that they won’t think I’m isolating myself in a worrisome way, but inwardly I’m dying to get back to my cell.
“Are you going to school tomorrow?” Jeannie asks.
“Unless you’re planning to homeschool me.” It’s a joke, but she’s not sure until I smile.
She laughs nervously. “You’ll do fine. I think the storm has passed. There’s a state senator who’s been caught with a prostitute, so most of the reporters are on that story now.”
“Really? That’s both awful and reassuring.”
At nine, I shower, then head for my bedroom. Jason comes out to take his turn in the bathroom, and he’s not wearing headphones. He looks at me for a minute and says, “I don’t hate that you’re here, but don’t touch my stuff,” before shutting the door in my face.
I’ll take it.
Somehow I make myself get dressed and towel off my hair without touching my phone. That fast, I’m thinking of Clay again, and how he took care of me. I’m not as alone as I was back then, but I still want him. Eventually compulsion wins out and I check messages.
To my surprise, I’ve got five from him.
Text 1: Can I see you?
Text 2: Where are you?
Text 3: Mrs. Rhodes said you’re not home, is she screwing with me?
Text 4: At least tell me if you’re okay.
The last one just reads, Please, and it’s time-stamped forty-three minutes ago. Holy shit, seems like he’s frantic. Hurriedly, I type a reply. Sorry, I’m fine. Really. I’m staying at Liv’s house. It’s too late tonight, but I’ll be in school tomorrow.
Checking the calendar, I see that it will be Monday. To be honest, I didn’t even realize what day it was. Riverglen had basically the same routine, regardless. But that means Clay will be off work.
He sends, I’ll pick you up in the morning.
Jeannie and Grant may not approve of this, but they’re aware Morgan has been dating Clay for a while. They don’t know him as well as Nathan, but they’ll have to get used to him if he wants to be with me. There’s no way to be sure until we talk, of course, but I’m hopeful.
In bed I close my eyes and imagine family dinners with Clay at the table. He’s starved of such warmth, more than anyone would believe. In time, maybe we can invite both Clay and Nathan, though I don’t want to push since I’m finding my place all over again.
This new beginning doesn’t terrify me at all. Rather, it’s like a walk down a familiar lane after a long absence, admiring how well the trees have grown.