Chapter One - Brooke

It’s hot and sticky in the car, and the lukewarm air blowing out of my air conditioner only makes it feel hotter. I need to pick up some fluid, but I’ve been trying to wait until my paycheck lands this Friday. I roll down my windows and sigh. The air is muggy with thick clouds in the sky and doesn’t do much to cool me down. At least it’s only a short drive from work to my apartment. I try to block out the heat, thinking of what I’ll make for dinner and what I’ll wear to work tomorrow, when I notice a terrible and familiar sight.

I’m being followed. Again. I know who it is without having to look at the driver.

I speed home as fast as I can, that awful motorcycle behind me the whole time. I grab my purse and run inside when I get home, hoping he doesn’t call out after me. He doesn’t. He parks his bike across the street and stares at me. I swear I can feel his eyes on me even after I close the door. He’s relentless, and it’s been getting worse. I know he wants me to be nervous and to take his threats seriously. I hate to say it, but it’s working. I am nervous. I’m honestly and truly terrified – really.

Leave it to Jeff to make what was already the worst night of my life even worse. Leave it to him to turn a tragedy into a sick plan for his own gain. He didn’t even know the whole story, but ever since he’d seen me with that gun, Jeff had made my life a living hell. If I hadn’t hated him already for how he treated me when we were dating, I would have hated him for this.

I shudder, not wanting to turn and look out the window to see if he’s still there, but knowing he probably is. My phone rings and I answer right away when I see that it’s my sister, Autumn.

“I think there is a police officer following me,” Autumn says instead of saying hello. She sounds like she’s been crying. I sit down on the couch and shake my head.

“No one is following you, I promise,” I say. Autumn’s been crying a lot lately, breaking down with the intense panic that’s followed her since that night.

“They are, and they’re going to find out. They’re going to find out what I did, and I’m going to go to jail. We’re both going to go to jail!” Autumn says. She sounds slightly hysterical. I take a long breath, wondering if Jeff is still across the street.

“They’re not going to find out, and we’re not going to jail,” I say. I don’t blame her for being scared. It scares me too. I’m not going to let anything happen to Autumn, though. And since right now the only person who knows we have any connection that night and to the dead body from it is Jeff, I intend to keep it that way.

“I don’t know what to do,” Autumn says. She’s hardly left the house since it happened, only going to work, not seeing friends. There was a time when Autumn was so much brighter and bolder than me – looking to go back to college, filled with dreams and ambitions. She’s a shell of that girl now. I think that maybe if I can get Jeff to stop, she’ll feel better and get back to being herself. I just don’t know how I’m going to do that.

“This isn’t your fault, and nothing is going to happen. I’m going to take care of it,” I tell her.

“It is my fault! I shot him, Brooke!” Autumn says, whispering even though I know she’s home alone.

“You had to. It was self-defense,” I say firmly. I can still picture the night in my mind, my sister with a man twice her size on top of her, me attempting to fight him off. I can still feel the way his hand felt when his fist made contact with my jaw. I can feel the terror of watching his hands slide around Autumn’s neck, choking her. I can hear the gunshot ringing out and Autumn’s panicked whisper. I can see Jeff walking in, seeing me holding the gun I’d taken out of Autumn’s hand.

“I thought I was going to die,” Autumn says. Jeff thinks I killed that guy since he walked in on me holding the gun. I don’t want him to know the truth. I don’t want anyone to know. Autumn is my younger sister and she’s been through a lot I couldn’t protect her from. I’m not going to let this destroy her. I can’t.

“I know you did. You did what you had to do,” I say firmly.

“But if someone finds out,” Autumn says. I think she’s crying again. Her voice sounds raw – like her throat is irritated from choking on tears and terror.

“No one is going to find out,” I say. “I swear.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Autumn says.

“I am sure,” I say. I think that if I say it enough, maybe it will be true. Maybe I really can keep this from hurting Autumn even more than it already has.

“I hate going out. I always feel watched,” Autumn says.

“You’re not being watched,” I say. She’s not only because I am, but I don’t say that. “And you can’t stay in all the time.”

“I wish I could,” Autumn says, sniffling a little. “I did hear something very interesting today, though.”

“Oh yeah?” I say. I doubt I’ll be interested in whatever gossip she heard, but I ask anyway, hoping the subject change will make her feel better.

“You know that huge house on Hart Lane?” she asks. I nod, thinking of the grand mansion with its sprawling yard. It’s the biggest house in town, beautiful and rich in history, but no one has lived there for years.

“What about it?” I ask. I heard a rumor a few months back that the house was up for sale again, but I didn’t think anything had come from it.

“Someone bought it. Someone you know very well,” Autumn says. I frown, not sure who she could mean.

“Someone I know?” I ask, confused.

“Anthony. Your friend Anthony? I heard he’ll back in town within the week,” Autumn says. “Did know he was rich these days?”

“I did know that,” I say slowly, feeling surprised.

Anthony was my best friend growing up and all through high school. We’d lost touch over the years, but I knew he’d made really good money in New York and that he had a son with a woman who had died tragically a few years back. I’ve always regretted that we hadn’t stayed close. There had been a time when Anthony and I knew everything about each other – when he was the first person I thought to call when anything, good or bad, happened. I wondered if we could still be friends as adults.

We’d promised to always be friends the last time I’d seen him. We’d promised each other a lot of things when we were kids, and most of them hadn’t come true. I remember how tightly we’d hugged each other, both getting ready to go to college. We’d sworn we’d talk every day, and we had for a while . . . until we hadn’t anymore. Until it had been weeks, and then months, and then years since we’d last spoken. It happened so slowly that I’d hardly felt how much I missed him until it was too late. Until it had been so long that it would have been strange to reach out. We both got busy, working summers, taking internships. He’d moved to New York to get his master’s, and as far as I knew, he hasn’t been back in town for more than a day at a time since.

“You should get together, catch up with him when he gets back,” Autumn says, cutting into my thoughts.

“Maybe,” I say.

“I wonder what he looks like now. He was always cute,” Autumn says. I flush, glad my sister can’t see me. I’d thought so too, and I’d thought it a lot. For a while, I’d thought maybe Anthony and I, one day, could be more than friends, but I’d never wanted to say anything and ruin what we had.

“You were thirteen the last time you saw him,” I point out, and Autumn laughs. I’m glad to hear it.

“Old enough to know he was cute,” Autumn says. I smile to myself. I’ve never admitted how I used to feel about Anthony, but I’d rather talk to my sister about cute guys than the police and guns and attacks. It almost feels normal.

“Who else did you think was hot when you were thirteen?” I ask, hoping to keep it going. Autumn goes with it like she needs to feel normal for a while too, and we talk about all the boys we used to know all evening.

It keeps the thought of gunshots and motorcycles and the terror of dead bodies off my mind. For a while, at least.