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.I had to take a stand.To do what was right.“I wish my family would find me,” Eve said suddenly.“Then they’d kill that bastard.Kill him with their bare hands.”TWENTY-FOURThat was it.I knew why Carter had Eve’s picture in his house.Why hadn’t I figured it out before? She was his sister.That had to be it.Eve didn’t talk about her family much but when she did it was with fierceness and love.I pictured the flash in Carter’s eyes, the strength of his hand when it folded over mine, the intensity behind his words.It was so similar to how brave and strong Eve was.No doubt he would have saved Eve if he knew where she was.He would have saved us both.Shame filled me with this new revelation.I never should have pushed him away.Why had I done that? I should have asked him about the picture.Given him a chance to explain.Perhaps there was no ulterior motive.But I was scared, plain and simple.And fear had always been my worst enemy.I needed to talk to Carter, find out why he hadn’t told me about Eve sooner.Give him the chance to tell me the whole story.I had made assumptions about Mom, and they were wrong.Very wrong.Maybe I was doing the same thing with Carter.I wouldn’t know if I didn’t talk to him.As much as I hated confrontation, I knew what I had to do.Tucking the photograph into my pocket, I hurried out of the guesthouse.My feet glided across the yard and up the back porch steps.The slats on the back patio creaked with each step as I made my way to the back door.It was cool in the house, the air conditioner running at full blast.It’s how Mom liked it.She never opened windows.That kicked up her allergies.“Aspen?”It was like she was waiting for me.I took a deep breath, knowing it was time to face the music.Mom approached, appearing wary.“I made some lunch.Want to join me?” There was desperation in her eyes, and it cut to my heart.“Sure.” I sighed, deciding to call Carter afterward.There was a large salad on the counter.Greens sprinkled with red tomatoes, orange carrots, green cucumbers, feta cheese.My stomach growled.I hadn’t even realized I was hungry until now.Mom spooned salad onto two plates and carried them to the little table in the breakfast nook.I sat down, my chair scraping against the floor.A cow smiled at me from the center of the table.Mom set the plate in front of me, and I reached for a fork.Taking the seat across from me, Mom smiled.“Where did Dad go?” I asked.“Golfing.” She speared lettuce on the end of her fork.I nodded, taking a large bite of my salad.A carrot snapped in my teeth.“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” Mom said, her tone tentative.“It’s okay.We don’t have to.”“No, I want to.I hate this distance between us.”My heart squeezed, and I shook my head.“It’s not necessary.I believe you, and I’m not mad.”“You’re not?” Her eyebrows shot clear up to the roots of her perfectly styled hair.“No.Not at you.Just at the situation, I guess.” I forced a light smile.“The whole thing sucks.”“You’ve got that right.”“But it wasn’t your fault, Mom.” I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers.“You couldn’t have known.”She cleared her throat, blinking rapidly.“Thank you.”“I still wish you’d never met him though.”“Oh, honey.I wish that every single day.”“I know you do.”If only there would come a time when he wasn’t in our thoughts every day.When shame, guilt and regret didn’t color our lives or shape our choices.After lunch I snagged a cordless phone and headed into the backyard.Sinking down into one of the Adirondack chairs, I dialed Carter’s number.I didn’t need to look it up anymore.I knew it by heart.It was the first number since Katie’s that I’d memorized.For some reason that felt significant to me.“Hello,” Carter answered on the second ring.“Hey.”“Aspen,” he breathed my name in a way that made me wonder if he’d been holding his breath since we last spoke.“You called.”“Yeah.I-I’m sorry I didn’t sooner.”“What happened? Was I coming on too strong at my house?” He paused.“Was it my cooking?”I giggled.“No, it was none of those things.”“Then what?”“Um…” I summoned all the courage I could muster.“Carter, what happened to your sister?”Silence filled the line.After a minute I worried that he hung up.“Carter?”“Yeah, I’m here.” He paused.“I figured one day you’d ask me about this.”My pulse quickened.“She was kidnapped.Like you.”I stopped breathing.“Only she didn’t escape.She died.”Blood.There was so much blood.In Eve’s hair, splattering her body, pooling on the floor.Her eyes were hollow, vacant.Those eyes that held so much life, so much promise minutes before.“Carter, was your sister-”“Oh.Aspen, I’m sorry.Can you hold on a minute?”“Yeah.” I shook my leg in anticipation, waiting for him to return.Adrenaline pumped through me.“Aspen?”“Uh-huh?”“It’s my dad.I have to go.”Disappointment filled me, but I shoved it down.Of course he had to go if his dad needed him.“Okay.”“Are we still on for prom? It’s tomorrow night, remember?”“Oh.Right.Yeah.”“Great.See you then.” He clicked off.Dropping the phone beside me, I stuck my fingers down into the pocket of my shorts and yanked out Eve’s picture.I stared at her features trying to find Carter in them.“I think I’ve found your brother,” I whispered, remembering how badly she wanted her family back when we were locked in that room.My chest tightened.“If only I’d been able to find him for you then.”TWENTY-FIVEOn the evenings when Kurt would let me out of the locked room, we would watch television.Sometimes movies, other times sitcoms or family dramas.Every once in awhile a teen sitcom would be on.It used to hurt my stomach to watch shows about normal high school girls, going to school, hanging with friends, and fighting with their parents.It served as a glaring reminder of what I was missing out on.The life that should have been mine.Anger would surface as the characters lamented about their problems.Anything from a zit on their face to not being asked out by the boy they liked.I would’ve given anything to have those problems.I would have gladly chopped off my arm or gouged out my eyes in order to trade my life for theirs.When I cried myself to sleep it wasn’t because I was afraid of waking up with a pimple on picture day or because my best friend shunned me at school.No, I cried because I was locked away from the world, held hostage in a psychotic man’s home.I never thought I’d experience the things the girls on the shows did.Never in a million years did I think I’d get dressed up and go to prom.But that was exactly what I was doing.Mom took me into town in the morning to get my nails done.I’d never had them done before, and it felt funny to have them so clean, devoid of the dirt and grass stains, no longer smelling of flowers and earth
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