Claire

I stared at the jewelry on my vanity, willing it to disappear, wanting to erase every clue suggesting Aiken had ever existed.

I wanted him gone from my life.

Not really.

Sadly, the amethyst earrings and bracelet winked at me, the light catching the gems, purple specks floating around the room.

The damn broach too.

Christ.

It had been two days since the police officer visited me.

I’d been down to the station, my nose red and raw from being sick and crying nonstop, demanding for someone to call Aiken.

Mary had sat with me, holding my hand, rubbing my back, warming my cold body, keeping me tight next to her.

“What about my classes?” I didn’t even care about the part she’d played in all of this. I needed a friend.

“Don’t worry about those. I have someone covering them.”

“I have to worry about something,” I said to her while sitting in a private room at the police station. Why was I always left by myself with no one to worry about? I missed Abby. And Aiken. Even David, for a split second.

I felt like I’d crack in half from loneliness when a federal agent of some sort finally met with us. He showed us??? a picture of Jeannie and a copy of her statement taking responsibility for the explosion that took Abby’s life. Jeannie had also laid claim to the most recent bombing gone wrong. The agent had a lengthy file of chat rooms Jeannie had visited, commenting as Peace4A&A, her screen name. I wasn’t sure what it signified, but I knew it was a clue.

My head ached.

“I don’t think there’s anything else to show you,” the agent said, Detective Land stoic by his side.

I stared blankly at the evidence in front of me.

“Oh.” I thought of what I wanted to ask. “I hope you told the parents of those two college students what they were mixed up in. Clearly, they were misguided and under the influence of a terrible person. Maybe those parents can have some closure now.”

“We did, but don’t concern yourself with them. Take care of yourself. I’m sorry for this outcome.”

“That’s it, then.” I stood, not wanting his insincere compassion.

Mary stood with me, took my arm in hers, and helped me out.

Outside the station, I buried my face in her shoulder.

“I finally have my closure,” I mumbled, cried, and squeezed Mary closer and closer.

We were quite the spectacle.

Now I sat in my damn bedroom, Smitty on the bed, looking at me, pondering what was going on, his head cocked.

“You have to go out?”

He just plopped his head down on the bed. I guessed he felt much like I did.

We got our closure, but lost our happy ending.

I tucked the jewelry inside my sock drawer and crawled back into bed. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. Mary had told me to take the rest of the week off, and for once, I didn’t argue.

Smitty barked, startling me out of a deep sleep. I turned to the clock and checked the time. Five o’clock. Shit, my dog probably had to fucking pee. I tossed my legs out of bed and scrambled downstairs in my elf pajama pants and St. Patrick’s Day T-shirt. I was no doubt a sight to behold, and I was pretty sure I heard a trespasser in my kitchen.

“Heya, good boy. How ya doing?” I heard from afar and considered getting a Rottweiler next time around.

Smitty barked, and his wagging tail came into view. Crouched in front of him was Aiken, in a black long-sleeved Henley, worn-in jeans, and shitkickers, looking like he hadn’t been missing for weeks.

“Aiken…what? I don’t think this is a good idea. You need to get out.”

Despite trying to calm myself, I heard my words crack in my throat. My heart jumped in my chest, trying to get to its source of life.

“Let me explain, Claire, please,” he said, standing up, staring at me like I was water in the desert.

Walking forward three paces, I grabbed the bowl full of keys and knickknacks on the counter and hurled it at him. The bowl hit the sink, shattering, the keys and other shit clanging all over the floor. Smitty whimpered. Aiken started moving toward me.

“Stop!” I eyed him, warning him not to get any closer. “So it’s Claire now? No more Mr. Young Stud Muffin with the cute nickname, Richards?” My voice was a shriek, my jumbled emotions clogged in my throat. I felt the vein pounding in my forehead, raging like a rapid.

Aiken looked like I’d stabbed him.

Good. Fuck him. Who does he think he is?

The man I fell in love with…

“Smitty, come here.” My dog ignored me.

I was definitely getting a Rottweiler next time.

“Claire—don’t do this.”

“How long? How long did you know? Tell me,” I yelled.

“Let’s sit down.”

“I don’t want to sit down.” I crossed my arms and stood still as a soldier, ass tucked into the wall, tears raining down my cheeks. “I want an answer, and make it quick. I’m thinking of other things to throw.”

“Go, Smit.” He pushed my dog toward me. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit?”

“Speak, Aiken. I’m not going to stand here all day.”

Truth was…I’d stand here all day just to look at him. I’d been desperate for the man for weeks. My heart pumped blood furiously, faster than it had since he left. My desire to live was back, even though I told myself to stay mad at him.

“My mom was responsible for the explosion that killed Abby.” He leaned his head back and blew out a long breath.

“I know that. Now, question is…how long did you know?” I tapped my foot in front of me, nerves running sprints in my body.

“A little more than a month. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but I thought I’d figured it out right when there were threats of a second explosion on a message board on the dark web.”

“I don’t understand how you knew, but the cops never did. The police are shit.” A sob caught in my throat, but I refused to let it surface. “You? Who the hell are you?”

He didn’t speak, but moved to the sink, avoiding stepping on any of the tiny fragments strewn about. He filled a glass with water and brought it to me, handing it over with a shaky hand.

Good.

“Something clicked after I found out what a wild child my mom had been. I went to the library and pulled up some old papers on film, found a picture of my mom at a protest after she’d left my dad. She was wearing a T-shirt that read peace, the number four, and the letter A.”

“That was like the screen name the officer mentioned. But he added another A.”

He leaned against the counter, but never took his eyes off me. “We’ll get to that in a minute. After I saw that shirt, I began googling ‘peace four A,’ with the number spelled out, and then tried with the number itself. I kept getting links to encrypted message boards. Now I know where I get my computer smarts from…my mom. Anyway, right before Christmas, I found the screen name, but with the extra A, and started following conversations. Then Abbie dropped a bomb on me. Shit, that didn’t sound right. Abbie came to me and said she’s my half-sister. She was the other A.”

“What? Your sister?” This time, I let the sob tear through me. My throat felt like a knife was shredding it.

I was in Aiken’s arms and on my couch, crying, yelling, “Did she know? Is that why she came after me? Did she know about Abby the whole time? Did she know who did it? How could she not tell anyone?”

I was a hysterical, wet mess, dripping in tears and snot.

“Shh, she was interested in you, yes, because of all of this. Her dad said something after the explosion about her, our mom, always being fascinated with explosions. The thing sat in her brain for a long time. She never really knew our mom. She wanted to meet you, hear about the explosion, but then she became somewhat infatuated with you on a professional level. I don’t know, maybe it’s all twisted together.”

My nose was a faucet of mucus, my mouth a waterfall of feelings. “Why didn’t her dad go to the police?”

“I guess he was as smitten with my mom as my pops. Lived in hope she’d be back for a happy life, or whatever.”

“Oh my God, I can’t make sense of this. What the hell was with your mom?”

“It took me a while too.” His hand smoothed my hair behind my ear.

I wanted to sink deeper into him.

I wanted to run away.

I wanted to die.

I didn’t know what the hell I wanted.

But more than anything, I wanted to live the happily-ever-after I’d never thought was possible.

“You said we’d move in together. You loved me, yet you were doing all this behind my back…on the web? How were you going to keep these secrets from me?” The last part was hushed, words I didn’t want to say aloud.

“I found a way to get into the boards, followed some old conversations, pieced some shit together, hacked into newer conversations. Shit started making sense, especially after Abbie told me. Then I found the name with the extra A. I was close to understanding it all when I found something about the new explosion, and I knew I had to blow the whistle.”

“Again, what about me? Why did you leave?” I couldn’t bring Abby back. I needed to make sense of why I’d lost someone else. How did I let Aiken slip through my hands, or why did he want to escape?

“I didn’t want anything to blow back on you. I left because I wanted you to be in the free and clear. I never imagined I’d fall for someone while here, let alone you. My feelings were in so deep with you, so much more than I could reconcile with what I was finding out. I separated them. There was you, and then there was this, but they’re not separate, and I had to choose. In a way, I felt like I chose you because I wanted to keep you safe.”

“And my paper? My job, all the extra work Mary’s been throwing me?”

“Mary’s been helping me.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhaled and exhaled, my body limp with fatigue. I couldn’t feel my limbs or my heart, and I decided I liked it.

“Thing is, I don’t know how we move forward. It’s not possible.” It was a whisper from the back of my throat. Hushed. Maybe if we didn’t hear it, it wouldn’t be true?

“I know, but I’m not my mom. I’m me. I didn’t even know what she was doing, and you know I don’t condone it. Right?”

There was a string tethering us together, and it was shrinking with every one of his words.

“And you’re you,” he said. “My heart beats stronger when it’s with you. I’m afraid that without you my heart will shrivel up. You have to believe me.” His words continued to draw me near.

“I need time. Time to understand, digest all of this. You have to let me be.” I couldn’t look him in the face, couldn’t forget what a horrendous mess I must’ve looked like. I needed physical space. When I was close to him, I couldn’t think straight. I was too close as it was.

“I get it. I don’t want to, but I do.” His words were a whisper of defeat, his eyes flat.

“How did you think I would act? Happy? I need time alone. That’s what I need.” I slipped out from his hold and moved to the other side of the couch despite his furrowed brow.

Looking worse than a dejected Smitty, he stood and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be next door.”

And then he was gone.