Page 76 of When We Are Falling

The nurse reaches out, squeezing my hand gently. “It’s hard to see someone like this, especially when you knew them before. But she’s not the same person you remember. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

I nod slowly, trying to process everything the nurse just told me. “Would it be okay if I went upstairs for a moment? Just to see my old room before I leave?” My voice comes out quieter than I intended as I ask for permission to step back into a place I never wanted to return to.

Maria hesitates, glancing back toward the living room where Sylvia sits, lost in her own world. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she says gently, but there’s a softness in her eyes that tells me she understands more than she lets on.

“Please.” My voice wavers. “It was a really hard time in my life, and I just— I need closure. It would mean so much to me.”

She studies me for a moment, then sighs. “Alright, but I’ll come with you. I don’t want you up there alone.”

Both relief and dread wash over me. “Thank you.”

Maria calls out to Sylvia, telling her we’ll be back in a second, but Sylvia doesn’t respond. She’s staring blankly at the television which remains switched off.

We start up the creaky, narrow staircase, each step echoing in the silence. The air feels thicker up here, like the past is hanging in the air, waiting for me to confront it. I walk past the room that was technically mine all those years ago, but my feet carry me right to the end of the hall, to the door that’s haunted my thoughts since David turned up—the locked room.

The door is just as I remember it, the wood worn and the paint chipped around the handle. It looks the same, but everything else about it feels different now, like it holds all the pain and suffering within its frame, waiting for someone to unlock it.

I stop in front of the door, my hand reaching out instinctively, but I don’t touch the doorknob, my hand hanging in the air.

“Go on.” Maria gives me a nod, and I reach out, finally connecting with the handle, trying to turn it. But it’s still locked, just like it always was.

A small part of me is relieved, thinking maybe it’s better this way, maybe I should just turn around and go home. But before I can act on that thought, she produces a ring of keys and selects a small, tarnished one.

“Here,” she says softly, holding the key out to me. “I think this is the right one. I don’t know what you’re hoping to find in there. It’s pretty empty.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I take the key from her, my fingers trembling slightly. I really wish Ethan were here with me,but there’s only me. With a deep breath, I slide the key into the lock and turn it.

The door creaks open, revealing a small, spartan room. A single bed, stripped bare of any linens, sits against the wall, the mattress sagging in the middle from years of neglect. The room is empty, devoid of any personal touches.

It’s cold, unwelcoming, but despite how empty it looks, as I step inside, I’m hit with a wave of emotion that threatens to overwhelm me.

There’s no evidence left of what happened to David in this room—no marks, no signs of the suffering that took place. But I can feel it, like the walls have absorbed all the fear, the helplessness. It’s like it’s seeped into the very floor beneath my feet, and just being in this room makes my chest tighten, my breath hitch.

I don’t need to see anything physical to know the truth. It’s all still here, lingering in the air. I’m not into anything woo-woo, but I can feel the evil here, right down to the marrow of my bones.

Maria stays by the door, watching me with a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

I don’t speak, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge, the mattress sinking under my weight. For a moment, I close my eyes, thinking about David, about what he endured here.

When I open my eyes, they’re drawn to the corner of the room, where the light doesn’t quite reach. I stare at it, the darkness there like a black hole, swallowing everything around it. I don’t need to know the specifics to feel the horror of this place. It’s enough to just be here, to acknowledge it.

After a long moment, I stand up and walk back to the door, where Maria is waiting. I hand her the key, my fingers brushing against hers.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, my voice rough with emotion.

Her expression is sympathetic. “I’m sorry,” she says again, and this time, I know she’s not just talking about Sylvia’s condition.

Chapter 34

Blake

The driveback to Harbor’s Edge passes in a blur, the road winding through the familiar landscape, my thoughts miles away. My grip on the steering wheel tightens as I replay the visit in my mind, the haunted look in Sylvia’s eyes, the hollow emptiness of that house… that locked room.

The implications of her Alzheimer’s leave me cold. I’m no legal expert, but how can someone be held accountable if they don’t even remember their crimes? The thought twists in my gut. I wanted to find closure for David, some way to help him, but that possibility seems farther away than ever.

Pulling into town, I park the car and make my way to the boardwalk, trying to shake off the unsettling encounter. The air smells of salt and fried food, a vendor set up on the boardwalk trying to attract the trickle of tourists who’ve come back.

Too bad peak tourist season is over, but the return of visitors to Harbor’s Edge now that most of the beaches around our beautiful town are clean can only be a good thing for the barand all the other local businesses. At least that’s one thing not keeping me up at night.

---