Page 132 of The House Beyond the Dunes

Tears glisten in my eyes. “I don’t remember any of it. Doesn’t seem fair.”

He nods toward my overnight bag. “I pulled strings and got ahold of your full juvenile file.”

“I told you the reports on me were wrong.”

He shakes his head. “They’re not wrong.”

Do I want to read the reports? Maybe ignorance is bliss.

“The report is in your overnight bag,” Becker says. “Read it or not, but you deserve to have the facts, good and bad. It might explain why you created Stevie.”

“What happened to me?”

“Read it. It’ll give you better perspective, especially if you decide to see that therapist again.”

I’m quiet for a long moment. “Have they found Nikki?”

“Cadaver dogs are on the woodland property as we speak. The sheriff walked the property, and they’ve found a few spots with broken soil and sparse vegetation.”

“What does that mean?”

“When a body is buried in the ground, it bloats with decomposition gases, pressing against the soil on top of it. When the skin finally pops, everything drops, including the topsoil. It leaves cracks. Kills grass. Sheriff thinks there might be more bodies. He’s bringing in an excavation team.”

I try to imagine my own body lifeless and trapped under the soil for eternity. My chest tightens, and I force a deep breath in my lungs. “I hope they find Nikki.”

“Me too.”

Slowly I nod. “You tried to warn Stevie to be careful. She didn’t listen.”

“Stevie could be stubborn. Like you.”

It’s easier to talk about Stevie as if she’s another person. “She sounds like she’s pretty tough.”

“Yeah.”

My gaze drops to his hands resting on the coffee cup. My pulse speeds up. “I still don’t remember us.”

“I know.” Sadness lingers under the words. He clearly cared for Stevie.

“I’d like to remember us,” I say. “You were important to Stevie.” And somewhere in me, I guess, Stevie is there along with all the pain and suffering. Finding her is touching true darkness. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He sets his cup down. “Look, I better get going.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“You’re exhausted and so am I. And I came to deliver Stevie’s last message, your car, and your suitcase. I’ve fulfilled my promise.”

I follow him to the door. “Can I see you again sometime? I’d like to talk to you about Stevie.”

He holds my gaze for a long beat. “Anytime, Lane. My door is always open.”

Epilogue

LANE

Saturday, June 1, 2024

2:00 p.m.

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