Chapter 23
« Trust me, » Kelly said softly and held a hand out to the girl cowering on her bed.
« I'm scared… » She whined back and hugged her knees to her chest.
« You don't need to be, » her sister's face softened.
« You'll protect me ? »
« Someone already has, » Kelly smiled.
Beatrice thought about the blond woman covered in blood whose arms were tiny but warm. And she reached for her sister's hand.
They made their way down together. The mirror now clearly played the scene in the living room, the lights of the TV illuminating their path, but Beatrice paid it no attention. She knew that what she had to see was further.
« Did you love her ? » The elder Beatrice asked through her much her younger body.
« I did, » Kelly smiled down at her. « Very much. »
« What about her ? »
Kelly stopped in the living room, right behind the couch where another healthier, happier version of her was kissing a woman whose face was still turned away. She opened her mouth to speak but the scene shifted and all of a sudden Beatrice was back upstairs. On her own now.
She heard the familiar loud crash she had heard thousand of times before in her dream. Usually this was when the scene shifted to June standing in the middle of the fire. But this time she forced herself to walk every steps down the stairs until she was transported in her younger self, taking a backseat as she replayed her actions.
She ran, shouting for her sister. Her steps didn't falter as she reached the living room and threw the doors open. Her sister was alone on the sofa, facing away from her, toward the TV. Bea ran to her but the second she stood on the other side, horror greeted her. Her sister sat in a pool of her own blood, she gurgled in panic but it only made the blood pouring out of her mouth run faster and the blood ooze out of the many different wounds hiding under the stained clothes. Bea watched the life slowly leave her sister's body, frozen in shock.
And someone hit her behind the head.
It hurt so much but before her eyes closed, while she stood, face first on the floor in front of the couch, face inches away from the river of blood, she saw a hand.
—
June looked at the bank statement and thought back to the three thousand, five hundred and seventy-two dollars she had walked out of jail with almost two years ago now.
She felt a rush of pride through her veins at the numbers staring back at her.
She had worked hard but it wasn't her job as a cleaning lady or an order packer that allowed her to gather this type of money. This, she owed to Julian. He was the one who pushed her to do something with her art, to share it with the world.
This was the kind of money she needed to move away.
And yet.
Thomas hadn't asked her about it again. It hung like a sword of Damocles over their head but they both did their best to ignore it. He had no more to say and she was too afraid of what she wanted to tell him herself.
But he didn't stop professing his love. Telling her again and again. I love you. I love you. I love you. Like a chant. Like a prayer.
She felt his sincerity, felt his desperation for her to believe him. Oh, she believed him.
It almost filled the cracks in her soul. When he whispered it in her ear before they fell asleep, it almost felt like it could fix her.
Lately, June felt like she deserved to accept it. As he slowly worked the shame and resentment off her body with his loving hands, as he kissed the nightmares away and offered her the rest she had been craving for twenty lonely years, June started feeling like it was ok to let go. Maybe, they could do it. They could pick up where they had left off, work their way through all they had missed and make something beautiful together. She began to crave it.
But she didn't say it back.
No matter how much her heart shouted it, she kept her lips closed.
Their love was earth shattering. It was all encompassing and even stronger than what it had been when they were just teenagers and thought it enough. Now, even though he believed it to still be enough, June thought like a mother. She loved Thomas but she loved her children even more.
So she stayed silent. Swallowed his love confession, broke under his passionate touch and pushed back the date of her departure.
Just another day, she told herself every time. Just another day.
« All done mom ? » Julian asked her and she startled out of her thoughts.
They had gone shopping together. They were set to leave for their three weeks roadtrip in a couple of days and had to start packing up for the voyage.
June put the paper in her pockets and stepped away from the bank she had just come to to withdraw some money for the journey.
Let's think about it on my return, she thought, knowing she was only lying to herself but not ready to face it yet.
« Let's go, » she slid her arm around her son's back and they walked away.
—
Beatrice hadn't slept in two days, wrecking through her brain to remember something else. Just one more detail.
Nothing made sense. She had trouble working through her new memories because of the exhaustion but nothing mattered to her anymore except getting to the bottom of this.
« Are you alright dear ? » Greg's wife, Martha looked at her with worry.
Beatrice shook her head and focused on the people around her. Her mother slid an arm around her and squeezed in comfort and it did help but Beatrice knew she wouldn't find peace and comfort until she pieced the whole puzzle together.
« You look pale, » her mother frowned at her.
Her parents were having yet another social gathering. Summer. Yay. They had insisted she rested, even mentioned canceling it upon her refusal but Beatrice didn't let them. She knew the key to everything was amongst one of these people. Felt it in her bones. She knew the woman from her dream. There was no doubt in her mind that she had met her before. Many times. It was one of these women.
« Kelly would have loved this, » she mentioned out of the blue.
Her mother tensed beside her, before relaxing and turning soft eyes on her last daughter.
« She did love summer, didn't she ? » She smiled warmly. The memory of Kelly was a cherished one and her mother never cowered from bringing her up.
« Do you remember the time she begged to sleep in the pool with Jenny ? » Martha laughed and put a friendly hand on Kate's, her mother, arm.
« We had to drag them out of the freezing water at one in the morning ! » Kate chuckled back. « What about the time they got drunk on apple cider at Christmas ? »
« They were so sick in the morning ! » Martha held her stomach in mirth.
« What is going on here ? » Her father slid an arm around his wife's shaking waist and looked down at her lovingly. Beatrice could never get over how much her parents loved one another. This was probably why she hadn't settled yet, she wanted this or nothing.
« We're reminiscing, » Martha wiped a tear away.
Beatrice looked around the party of people surrounding them now. The Clarks, the Julys, the Ertings, the Keller… One of them was guilty. One of the smiling people standing in her parents' garden had savagely murdered their daughter nineteen years ago and thrown an innocent kid under the bus.
« Do you remember the box you built with her ? » Beatrice cut in. Her mind coming up with a plan as the words came out. She was dragging that motherfucker out. « The small one in the tree ? »
« Yes, » Georges grinned proudly. « It was pretty good for a man who had never held a hammer before. »
« What was it ? » Martha asked.
« Kelly used to pour her soul on paper, » Kate remembered with a nostalgic look in her eyes. « You'd walk in her room and find mountains of used paper waiting. »
« It helped her gather her thoughts, » Jenny added with a sad smile on her face. « It drove everyone else mad. »
« So we made a deal, » Beatrice's father explained. « We built a small box, pretty much like a birdhouse. I put it in a tree in the garden. Whenever she wrote something, she had to slid the paper in the box. When it was full, she couldn't write anymore, first, she had to open the box and sort out through the letters, what she wanted to keep and what could go before she could pick a blank sheet. »
« She was such an incredible girl, » Vera Erting reached out to squeeze Kate's hand.
« What happened to the box ? » Mr July asked.
« It got lost in the fire, » George cleared his throat.
« No, it didn't, » Beatrice finally found the spot to strike. All eyes turned to her. One pair especially. And Beatrice just knew. « It was amidst the boxes the firemen managed to salvage. I just… I wanted to keep it to myself. »
« Bea… » Her mother gasped and looked at her in hurt shock.
Sorry, mom.
« Kelly deserves to keep her secrets, » she ignored her parent's betrayed look. « This box was her diary and I don't think it would be fair to share it with anyone else but… I just wanted to keep something of her… »
It was silent after her declaration. Something uncomfortable and pitiful hung in the air while nobody knew how to get away ffrom the subject.
« I remember Kelly throwing up all over my shoes, » Dr Erting's warm voice cut into the tense silence. « I admit I was reluctant to invite you on my yacht again after that. »
A nervous chuckle left Bea's father mouth. It was small and weak. But it spurred other people on, until the tension had all but dispersed.
Beatrice had thrown the bait. Now she just needed to wait for them to bite.
She excused herself, forced her cold eyes into her mother's wet ones. They were still shaken, still searching for an explanation. Why ? Why had she kept this from them ? While it was all a lie.
« We should respect Kelly's privacy, » her mother whispered in her ear before letting her go.
It hurt. Beatrice felt deeply betrayed by learning now, two decades later and from June's son's mouth, that her sister had been gay. It felt like the ultimate betrayal to have her parents hold it back. She knew they weren't bad people, she understood why they had kept silent at first and why they didn't feel the need to come clean now, it was nobody's business whom Kelly had liked. But she was their daughter. Kelly had been her sister. She had the right to know everything they did about her.
She was already back inside the house when someone stopped her. They stood in the silent hallway, Beatrice frowning back at the woman who held her wrist tightly.
« I… » Jenny bit her lips. « Did you…? »
« Did I what ? » Beatrice lifted an eyebrow.
« These letters were meant for Kelly herself and nobody else. »
« Kelly's dead, » Beatrice struck back.
« So we just bare her soul for everyone to see ? » Jenny let go of her hand as if she had been burnt by her animosity.
« I'm not just anyone. »
Jenny frowned, opened her mouth to add something but other people walked in. Martha and Vera stared in confusion at the scene in front of them and stopped right behind Jenny. Their respective husbands were frowning a step further.
« Aren't you going back to the party ? » Vera tried to pacify the atmosphere with a soft smile.
« I'm going to destroy it, » Beatrice struck again, forcing herself to stand strong against all these people. « Don't think too bad of me… I wasn't ready to let her go. »
« I… understand, » Jenny's face softened a bit. « I'm sorry for being… harsh. It's just that… Kelly was my best friend. We always promised to carry each other's secrets to the grave. »
« Don't worry, » Beatrice shook her head. « I know nobody found it where I hid it. »
« I hope so, » Jenny sighed.
« I'm pretty sure nobody dug around the ruins of our old house, » Beatrice forced a chuckle out of her dry throat. Her heart pounding loud in her chest.
« Didn't they build warehouses there ? » Greg frowned in confusion.
« It still felt right to put it there, » Beatrice shrugged. « And its not like the employees hang around to dig into the garden. »
They all looked at her with a heavy amount of pity. It was mixed with worry in one pair of eyes. Beatrice nodded in goodbyes before hurrying upstairs. The red head staggered as she entered her room and leaned against the door for support. She had thrown the bait. They just had to bite.
—
June hummed a soft tone and ran around the trailer, checking that everything was in order. Julian was coming to pick her up early in the afternoon. It was Sunday and his grandparents had insisted he attend the mass with them since he wouldn't for the next three weeks. They were leaving right after.
Thomas hadn't left until late in the morning, refusing to go to church. He had never been very devout and only ever stepped in one to accompany her before. He had worshipped her instead. All night until quite late in the morning, until she begged him to let her catch some much needed sleep.
She grinned as she remembered his childish expression as he asked to come along again. Thomas Oswald. Pouting. Who'd believe her ?
June was putting her suitcases next to the front door when her phone rung. She didn't even check the caller ID before picking it up, convinced it was Julian telling her he'd be here soon.
« I've got the culprit, » a voice she hadn't heard in months announced in an excited tone.
« What ? Beatrice ? Are you okay ? » June felt something drop in her chest.
« The murderer ! » Beatrice exclaimed loudly over the phone. « God ! I finally remember ! All along, the truth was next to me all along ! »
June felt something snap and a huge burden left her shoulder before reality caught up to her.
« Beatrice, where are you ? » She asked in worry.
« I'm going to clean your name June, » Beatrice wasn't listening. « I'll prove your innocence to everyone. »
« Bea ! Please ! » June started to panic. She was so focused on the phone that she didn't hear the door open behind her. « It's dangerous ! »
« I'm almost there, I'll call you back. »
« Where are you ? » June rushed to ask.
« Where it all started. »
And the line went dead.
June wanted to throw up in terror. Beatrice had found out the murderer. And went to confront them on her own. Someone who had slaughtered her elder sister and tried to burn her alive in the past.
She whirled around and ran to her door, unable to avoid the person who stood there.
« Elizabeth ! » She shouted in shock. « Sorry ! I- You- There's no time ! »
« Beatrice Benson ? » Her daughter frowned at her in suspicion.
« I've got to go but- » June looked at the accusing look on her daughter's face. All the distrust pooling in her green eyes. She realised it was for the best right now. « Yes ! I'm going to the Bensons' old house ! Where Kelly died ! Tell your father ! »
June forced herself to ignore the look her daughter gave her. As if she had known all along and was finally proven right about her monstrous mother.
She ran to Old Joe, ignored his greeting and threw the door to his house open. The keys hung from the same thirty years old crochet on the wall. He shouted at her but she didn't have the time to answer any question. Praying to remember what Thomas had taught her nineteen years ago, she put the keys in the ignition and started the beat up truck. It coughed. It shook. It started.
June drove like she had legions of demons on her tail.
—
Lizzy stood frozen for a second.
She was right. She was right… She was right !
Something wet and warm ran down her face and it took a moment to realise she was crying.
She had only came over to warn her mother not to hurt Julian. It felt weird to part with her twin and though she could bear through the nights he spent over here at the trailer or the weekends camping, it wasn't the same as sending him away for a month long trip with the woman she had no trust in.
And yet.
Lizzy hadn't realised how much it would hurt to be proven right. She replayed the scene of June shouting at Beatrice Benson on the phone. Elizabeth had always made sure to act twice as good in front of the Benson, as if her politeness could erase the fact that she had come from the womb of their cherished daughter's murderer. There was no way she wouldn't make the link.
And now she stood at the trailer, watching this very murderer jump into Old Joe's pickup and drive off to God knew where.
She couldn't let her go.
Lizzy wiped her tears away and reached for the fire lighting in her guts. It became stronger and stronger as she walked to her own car until she sat behind the wheel, hatred and relief pouring into her soul. She was right. Had been all along. And now she'd prove it to her father and brother too.
She followed her mother.
—
Julian frowned at the message he had received. He was listening to Father Henry's passionate monologue on the beauty of the Yosemites, nodding along amiably until he could finally leave. His grandparents had insisted he stayed for lunch with the assembly and dragged him around to greet everyone.
It was obvious Ma was reluctant to let him go. She had calmed down after his dad's birthday speech, but wasn't yet ready to accept Julian was leaving with his mother for weeks. They had never parted this long before.
He almost ignored the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. But the itchy feeling in his chest appeared. The same one that had bothered him the morning Liz broke her arm in second grade. Or when she was locked in a storeroom in fourth. So he looked.
I was right. I'll prove you.
The feeling in his chest only grew. Julian didn't text back, he called.
« What the hell are you talking about ? » He asked the second the ringing stopped.
« She's going after Beatrice Benson. »
« What the fuck Lizzy ? »
« I'll show you this time. Trust me. »
« Lizzy ! Liz- » BEEP.
He frowned down at the phone and the feeling only grew until it felt uncomfortable to breathe. Julian ignored Father Henry's annoyed stare and walked to the door.
« Julian ? » Pa called after him but he ignored it. He started walking faster and faster, until he was straight out running.
The church was almost fifteen minutes away from his house by foot. He sprinted back home in five.
« What- » His father looked exhausted, leaning over a cup of coffee in only a pair of loose shorts in the kitchen.
« I think Lizzy is in danger. Mom too, » he panted.