Page 110 of Snow Creek

“I know so,” she says.

I give her a warm smile.

If I had a pet iguana or a pet anything, I would have told her about that too.

Fifty

He wanted me.

As I drive home, those words from my taped session with Dr. Albright play in my mind. Actually, it playsatme. Like a cat, claws out, toying with a small bird. It wants blood. It wants to win. I know it’s the reason I felt the need to see Dr. Albright after all these years. I would like to tell the world that there is great help in psychotherapy. It’s what we tell everyone we see as they struggle through things, visible and invisible.

I remember everything about that moment when my aunt told me. She changed from rose dusting powder to a lilac scented one. It was strong, but pretty when she left the room. At least it wasn’t wintergreen. The clock over the mantel chimed. I could smell the cinnamon rolls she’d baked that morning.

Everything.

The drive is long. Each flashing headlight is the beat of a drum. It’s foiling my efforts to move my mind to another topic.

When I get home, I feel defeated somewhat. I try to shut the past away by getting something to drink. I stream Maren Morris’s first album. From the refrigerator, I pour some orange juice. And then I do what zillions of other people do when searching for a distraction, I stare down at my phone.

I’m unable to resist.

I check my email. Of the fourteen new ones, one has to be from my brother.

Shooting in Denver. Fire in downtown Portland. A protest for the homeless in LA.

I immediately start to delete.

I hesitate on one. It sends a chill down my spine.

Its subject line:

It’s You, Rylee.

It seems non-algorithm created, not spam. The spelling of my name is a challenge for just about everyone as they always assume RILEY. I don’t recognize the sender. It’s a guy named “Wallace”.

I open it anyway.

And I forget to breathe.

Saw you on the news. Good work. How’s the weather there in Port Townsend? Maybe I’ll come by and we can talk about what you did.

I snap my phone to the table so hard that it tumbles to the floor. The glass face shatters.

I’m shattered.

Someone knows.

God, help me. Someone knows.

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