Page 34 of Entangled

“Head to the main road and turn right. It’s about twenty minutes down the road.”

I nod in response, following his directions and pulling out onto the main road as I take another bite of the toast and force it down. Setting it down, I reach for my coffee in the cup holder and turn onto the main road. Silence reigns in the car as I drive. The nerves filling my stomach making it impossible for me to even put on music, much less spark a conversation. We’re a ways out of town with nothing but tree-lined fields on either side when Jace raises his hand and points to a gravel road coming up on the left.

“Turn here. The house is a couple minutes up the road.”

Curiosity momentarily wins out over my nerves as I make the turn. “I’m guessing everyone in town knows where their house is?”

“Yeah.” His voice is quiet, reserved. “It’s… I guess you could say it’s pretty well known.”

A quiet, humorless laugh leaves me. “That’s a nice way to say it.”

The road winds down before cresting slightly up on a curve with an old, two-story southern plantation home sitting at the top. I can see the white paint of the house is dirty and peeling even from the road, the black shutters around the windows missing a few planks here and there. It would make the perfect haunted house. The whole place just run down enough to leave you wondering what happened to make someone abandon what was once a clearly magnificent home.

The road winds up in front of the house before curving back and I park Franny right in front of the porch steps. I move my plate on the dash and open the center console, grabbing the key for the house that Yvie had given me before I left. Jace is quiet next to me as I take a deep breath and push open my door, forcing my body all the way as if I’m moving through quicksand. I step out of my car and slowly walk around to the steps, stopping as my eyes snag on the black door with a large brass knocker.

“Daddy! Lift me!”

The memory crashes through my mind and knocks the breath right out of me. A giggling, carefree girl asking her father to lift her so she can reach the door knocker. Something that had been lost to recesses of my mind brought back to life by the house in front of me. What other memories will I find here? What skeletons are lost within the depths of my own mind? I push through the trepidation trying to paralyze me and take that first step, knowing that the first step is always the hardest.

Jace trails behind me, a quiet presence at my back, there if I need him but letting me lead the way. I push the key into the lock and turn it with a resounding snick, the sound making me feel as if I just opened Pandora’s box. Pushing open the door, I hesitate for only a moment before stepping over the threshold and into the foyer. My eyes scan the space and I’m struck by the randomness of my memories from here.

My mother bringing out cookies for me from the archway beyond the stairs that I somehow know leads to the kitchen. My father at the bottom of the stairs, arms open and waiting to catch me as I race to him when he gets home from work. Sitting at the low table in the living room to my right and coloring while my parents fought in the other room, angry voices hushed in an attempt not to reach me. A strange mishmash of memories barreling down on me.

That’s the funny thing about memory though. Some of the things you’d give anything to remember fade so quickly while other seemingly random events refuse to budge. You can tell yourself to remember something, try as hard as you can to burn it into your mind and it still fades. Lost among the neurons in your brain, buried in the gray matter.

I had a lot of memories like that with Coop, ones I secretly would have given anything to remember. Random occurrences that I felt were so important now, right on the edge of my memory, taunting me with how they were just out of reach. The masochistic part of me would give anything to be able to remember everything from last summer. To be able to string all our little moments together and create a never-ending fantasy I could live in.

The side of me that cared about my well-being is happy some of it has faded.

The house looks as if they just left to go on vacation. All of their belongings are still here. A set of keys on the hook beside the door. Family pictures dotting the wall of the grand staircase leading to the second story. If it wasn’t for the musty smell and feeling of absolute emptiness, you would expect them to come walking back through the door any minute now.

“How the hell did this happen here?” I whisper, giving voice to the thought running through my mind.

Jace sighs sadly beside me. “I don’t know, El. I don’t know.”

“Where do you think I should start?”

He pauses, hesitating as if he doesn’t want to offer up the suggestion that popped into his mind. “Their bedroom?”

I look up to the top of the stairs and a visceral reaction takes hold at the thought of stepping foot into the room where they died. My heart thunders in my chest and I’m paralyzed, breath coming fast, hands shaking at my sides. Voice caught in my throat with that horrible feeling of being unable to speak. My mind may not remember what happened that night, whether I really did sleep through it or wake. But my body knows nothing but horrible things lie at the top of those stairs for me.

“Or,” Jace continues when I don’t respond. “Did your dad have an office here?”

I force myself to take a few deep breaths, air hissing through my clenched teeth as I try to calm myself down before replying. “Yeah. I-I think so,” I stutter out, flicking my eyes to him. “I vaguely remember some filing cabinets in a room that looked out on the backyard.”

“Okay.” He tilts his head toward the back of the house. “Let’s start there, and then…”

“Yeah.” I nod, not needing him to continue. Knowing I’m going to have to face their room at some point today.

Jace reaches over and threads his fingers through mine, taking the lead and gently leading me toward the back of the house. And I let him because at this point I’m not sure I could go another step without it. We cross under the archway and through the kitchen, the thick coat of dust covering everything visible in the light streaming through the windows surrounding the space. There’s a hallway shooting off to the right and we take it since it’s the only available option, quickly coming to a door on the left. Jace pauses, looking the door up and down before reaching out and opening it.

I was right. There’re filing cabinets lining the wall behind a giant carved walnut desk that sits looking out at the backyard. The tree swing that hangs off a giant oak visible from the window. As if my father used to sit and watch me play while he worked.

How?

That one word plays on an endless loop in my head as I walk farther into the room. I don’t understand it. My memories, this house, all of it speaks of love, not madness.

I clear my throat to battle the tightness climbing up it and look up to Jace. “You want to take the left side and I’ll take the right?”

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