Page 106 of Ashes of the Past
I pace the length of the living room, arms wrapped tightly around myself, the events of the night playing on a loop in my mind. Every time I blink, I see Olivia falling to the ground, and my heart stops all over again. Every time I close my eyes, I see Clay’s twisted, hateful expression. I hear Lane’s enraged scream as he lunges and feel the moment Jack tackles him to the ground.
A knock at the door startles me. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
“Brynn,” Jack’s voice is gentle but insistent. “Please, just open the door.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing him to go away. I can’t face him right now. I can’t face any of this. The guilt, the shame, the weight of knowing that I put Olivia in danger.
He knocks again, this time softer. “Brynn.”
I don’t answer.
Eventually, he leaves, his footsteps retreating down the porch steps. I sag against the wall, pressing my forehead to the cool wood of the door, trying to breathe through the tightness in my chest.
An hour passes. Maybe more. I’m still pacing, still trying to make sense of the chaos in my mind, when the front door suddenly swings open. Joanne and Rachel step inside without knocking, their eyes wide with worry.
“Brynn,” Rachel breathes, reaching for me.
Before I can react, I’m pulled into their arms, both of them holding me tight. The dam finally breaks, and I sob into their shoulders, my body shaking as the weight of everything crashes down on me.
“We came as soon as we heard,” Joanne says, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey, are you okay?”
I can’t answer. I just cry harder.
Rachel strokes my back, whispering soothing words. “It’s okay, Brynn. Let it out.”
Joanne pulls back just enough to cup my face, her thumbs wiping away my tears. “What happened?”
We move to the couch, and I sink into the cushions between them. My body feels numb, but my hands tremble as I rub my palms together. I give them the short version. As I speak, the words catch in my throat, and I realize I’m processing it in real-time, reliving every moment.
When I finish, I’m shaking again, my breath coming in uneven gasps.
“Oh, Brynn,” Joanne murmurs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
Rachel nods. “You’ve been through hell tonight.”
I shake my head violently and push up from the couch, unable to sit still any longer. “No. I did this. This is my fault.”
They both look at me, startled.
“This is my fault,” I continue, my voice thick with anger and self-loathing. I start pacing again, raking my hands through my hair. “I knew Clay was unhinged, but I didn’t know it would come to this. I should have known.”
“Brynn—” Joanne starts, but I cut her off.
“No, listen to me. If I hadn’t—if I hadn’t let myself fall for Jack, if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in him, Olivia wouldn’t have been outside by herself. I wasn’t paying attention to her. I was inside, kissing Jack.” My voice breaks. “I should have been watching my daughter. I should have protected her.”
Rachel stands abruptly, her expression fierce. She steps in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and giving me a small shake.
“Stop it,” she says firmly.
I blink at her, stunned.
“She’s twelve and perfectly capable of being outside by herself. This is not your fault,” she says, her voice unwavering.“Clay is responsible for what he did. Lane is responsible for what he did.You are not.”
I try to turn away, but she holds me in place.
“You are a damn good mother, Brynn,” she continues. “You love that little girl more than anything in the world. And tonight? You did everything you could to keep her safe.”
Joanne stands, too, nodding. “Rachel’s right. You’re in shock, Brynn. You’re grasping for something—anything—to make sense of this. But there’s no making sense of it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
