Page 89 of Firefly Effect

Evie sits back on the bed and takes a deep breath before lying back. I turn off the big overhead lights and take my time coming back to her, giving her a moment to relax.

I sit down in the oversized chair near her bed and lean back, admiring Evie while praying that this time, we can bring out more memories.

“I’m not going to take you as deeply as I did last time. Can you pick up where we left off last?” I speak slowly, calmly, providing a safe environment in which her brain can roam free. “Picture yourself back in those woods, leaving Carley and me to go get help.”

She flinches slightly at my words. “I still can’t believe you’re Foster.”

I reach toward her and squeeze her hand. “I know. If it helps, try to avoid the connection right now. The boy is Foster, and he’s holding his sister, thinking of any possible way to bring her back to life and kill the monster who did this to her.”

She squeezes my hand, causing the same sensation in my heart. “I can do that.” Her voice is so soft and empathetic despite her being mad as hell at me for all my secrets.

Silence fills the room, creating a heaviness that weighs us both down—but sometimes that’s how waiting feels. I allow her to explore her thoughts without interjecting, until a gasp rises her chest.

“There’s someone else in the woods.”

The critical knee-jerk reaction in me wants to remind her that there were many people in the woods that night, but I refrain.

“Someone’s running. It’s so dark. I can’t see who, but they’re running away from me.” She balls her fist in frustration. “I follow them. I’m screaming for help, but… they’re running faster.” She frowns, her eyes closing tighter. “Someone grabs me. I scream again.” Her face twists. “He’s covering my mouth, whispering for me to be quiet.”

Suddenly, Evie’s entire body freezes, and color fades from her cheeks.

“What is it, Evie? What do you see?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not what I can see. It’s what the man says next.”

My chest tightens. “What does he say?”

She gasps. “Be quiet, or you’re next.”

I freeze. “Was it him? The Firefly Man”

Lines crease her forehead. “I don’t think so,” she whispers, then she sucks in a stuttered breath. “He held me to him for a long time, like he was buying time for someone to get away. I was so scared.” She quakes with those words.

“Did he hurt you?”

Evie shakes her head. “No.” She frowns again. “It was almost like he was trying to calm me down and protect me.”

Relief tries to knead at my tense shoulders. “Did he say anything else, Evie?” I try to hold back my desperation to get inside her head, to see what she’s seeing, to hear what she’s hearing.

She nods. “He kept saying it was an accident and that he felt so awful. He failed someone, but he didn’t say who. He didn’t know it would come to this.”

I catalog every detail of what she’s telling me into the buckets of evidence I’ve created in my mind. There’s not much to her story, but the smallest elements are what create and place the final puzzle pieces in my mind.

There’s just one more detail I need her to try to remember.

“Who was the man holding you, Evie?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see him, and he was whispering so I couldn’t place his voice.”

“That’s okay. Try to think about other details. His height, his build, his scent.”

She squeezes her eyes closed again. “I’m trying. Everyone seemed taller to me back then. I was a short little thing.”

“Think about the men who were there that night and try to place him that way. Jimmy, Jenkins… Patrick?” I hesitate on the last name, knowing she’s not ready to consider her uncle a possible suspect.

She jerks, her eyes flying open. “There’s no way Patrick is involved. I would know if that was my uncle behind me. It wasn’t.”

I move to the bed, hating that I’ve upset her. “I’m not saying he did anything, but whoever this man is, it sounds like he’s covering for the killer. I wasn’t counting Patrick out, but you’re right, you would know if it was him.”

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