Page 28 of Silent Night

The kitchen is where I nearly broke down. It’s where it all started.

Mom meets me outside after loading my suitcase into her car, twirling the keys with impatience. The moment I get in the passenger seat, she explodes, like she was clinging to whatever she has to say until able to let it out.

“Dean served me divorce papers.Apparently, he thinks it’s not right for two people to remain married when one of their kids killed the other.”

She says it so offhandedly, like a man’s life wasn’t the price. Sure, he was a piece of shit, but still her stepson. It might be ironic, considering my role in the cover-up, but at least I pretended for Dean’s sake. Understood that no matter the person Bentley was to me, he was a son loved by his father. At least I hadcompassion, but Mom acts like the entire thing is an inconvenience.

“What?” she demands, spotting my glare.

“So you blame me?”

She doesn’t reply right away, but her lips purse, probably debating the answer herself. After a few moments, she still doesn’t reply but launches into a whole spiel about a new dating app she’s heard good things about.

Great. Another stepdad in the near future.

She rambles on and on the entire drive and I let her, tuning her out as I imagine where Saint’s gone off to. How many towns has he managed to get through in the passing days. Where his destination will be. Where the next house he’ll rob will be.

At the airport, I give her a one-armed hug, which she barely returns. “Do better, Mom,” I mutter at her before turning away.

The check-in line is long but goes quickly.

Security is shockingly easy and painless.

I find my gate quickly, thankful it’s near the bathrooms for those last-minute trips. I claim a seat by the window to watch them load the plane. I wonder if Saint has ever been on a plane, but guess he hasn’t, based on his story.

I wonder a lot about him.

While pretending he didn’t steal the most important thing from me.

My heart.

EPILOGUE

SAINT

One and a Half Months Later

My innocent,sweet girl left me a note when I returned to her room. I waited until all the cops cleared out before sneaking inside, using the shadows of the moon to get inside and leave the gift I spent hours that day picking out.

It’s the only thing I’d ever gifted to another person, and the only one I’d ever. That much I already knew.

In the very place I left it was an unaddressed note, but I knew it was for me.

Hayley Ellison.

With her phone number scribbled on the bottom.

I tucked the paper away, hoping I’d get the chance to use it one day, when I returned to stake out the police station, holding my breath until Hayley exited the building with her mother. She wasn’t imprisoned, so it was with a final longing look, I disappeared for good, her contact information now the most valuable thing I’ve ever gotten.

After two weeks of pretending she didn’t consume my every thought, I looked her up. With her last name and the help of free computer usage at a public library, she was too easy to find. Apparently, she’s one of those people who posts so much of her life online.

If I wasn’t already obsessed, I became so then. For hours, I poured over every detail of her that I dug up. Old pictures on social media of her friends at high school parties and sporting events. More recent photos of her apartment and of the landscapes surrounding it. Landscapes with a location marked, making it all too easy to travel to.

Hayley once asked me if I’d ever find a place to remain in for good.

Now I have. Settled into a real job at a factory and am renting an apartment that isn’t run-down and everything. Got the brand-new stolen phone activated and imputed her number into it, the only one other than my new boss’s number that’s listed in the contacts app.

For the month since arriving, I’ve stalked her from afar. At first, holding back to remain out of her life before intruding where I didn’t belong. Now that the holidays passed, and our time together, she’s free to pretend what happened didn’t.

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