Chapter 44 - The Husband I Buried

Now

I walked to the truck in a daze, the sound of my heels scraping against the cracked pavement too loud in the still air. The correctional facility loomed behind me, its walls humming faintly with the buzz of the electric gates as people came and went. I didn’t look back.

Keith and Tess were waiting for me to return. I slid into the passenger seat and put on the seatbelt, gripping it hard enough that it bit into my palms. My reflection in the rearview mirror didn’t look like me. My face was pale, hollow-eyed. Like I’d been scraped out, and parts of me left behind in that room with Rebecca.

Her words replayed in my head.

You should go. You’re already running late.

I pressed my fingertips to my temples, trying to steady the pounding in my head. Did she kill Brad? Did she kill Luis? Why?

My phone buzzed in my bag. I fumbled for it, my fingers clumsy. ‘Hello?’

At first, nothing – just faint static, like the whisper of breath through a wire. Then a woman’s voice, soft and strange. Muted.

‘They know who you are.’

The world seemed to fold in on itself.

My stomach lurched. ‘Rebecca?’

No, it couldn’t be Rebecca.

The call had ended. I pulled the phone away and stared at the screen. 00:14. No number. Just Unknown Caller.

My reflection stared back at me from the black glass. Wide eyes, the color drained from my face, my lip caught between my teeth. I tried calling back, but the line wouldn’t connect, didn’t even ring once. There was just dead air. Someone was messing with me.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Keith.

‘Yeah. I’m fine. I asked Rebecca about the blood, about Luis, but she wouldn’t talk.’

Keith made a sound in his throat, like he wanted to say something comforting but wasn’t quite sure what.

‘It’s time,’ I said. ‘We need to go to the Institute.’

My phone buzzed again. I jumped.

This time it was just a court notification.

Request received. Transfer Request: Pending Review.

Shit. Was I going to regret that?

*

As we drew closer to the Coterie Institute, I felt my pulse quicken.

‘You sure you wanna do this?’ Keith asked, glancing from the road to my nervous hands fidgeting with the seatbelt.

I nodded and slid out of the truck.

Keith followed, clutching Tess’s leash.

Inside, the lobby was spotless. Floor-to-ceiling windows, soft lighting, the faint hum of air-conditioning. The scent of an herbal diffuser wafted through the place, promoting calm. A sign on the far wall read:

C O TERIE INSTITUTE

Find yourself.

I stared at the plaque, unease tightening my throat. I was struck by the odd spacing. Then I saw it, etched faintly into the ‘O’. Two snakes eating each other’s tails.

The symbol from the invitation.

‘I think we’ve got the right place,’ said Keith, his posture stiff.

A woman stood at the front desk, smiling, a lanyard saying ‘Annette’ around her neck.

Annette. Something registered about that name. Not that there weren’t thousands of people called Annette. Then I remembered: Evan at the support group.

Her voice, when she greeted us, was the kind you’d expect from a mindfulness app. Pleasant and calm. It was immediately soothing. ‘Good morning. Welcome to the Coterie Institute. How may I help you?’

I used my bubbly, professional tone. The one I used when I needed people to underestimate me. ‘Hi, I’m Mackenzie Morgan. I have a meeting scheduled for 11.30 a.m.’

‘Certainly, who were you meeting with?’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t recall,’ I said apologetically, looking around at the marbled walls.

‘Just let me have a quick look,’ she said, tapping away on a keyboard.

‘This is a beautiful building,’ I said. ‘Has it always belonged to the Coterie Institute?’

Her expression didn’t flicker. There was just a tilt of the head as she accessed some internal script. ‘The Phoenix Reentry Program, for returning soldiers was the previous tenant. That program was disbanded and the Institute took over shortly after.’

Keith leaned against the counter, scanning the office beyond. ‘What kind of institute are we talking about?’ he asked.

‘We’re a wellness center. We encourage balance, and help people to get in touch with their inner selves. Discover who they really are,’ she said, and although it might have sounded corny, she made it sound like a worthwhile pursuit.

I nodded, trying to convey how impressed I was.

‘Our lead researcher, Dr. Avery, has been doing award-winning research showing that meaning is the key to recovery. Many of our staff come from the original Phoenix program.’

My stomach dropped. ‘There are staff from the old program?’

‘That’s right.’ Annette didn’t blink. ‘They transitioned seamlessly into the new model. Many of them find it deeply rewarding.’

‘That’s fascinating,’ I said, giving her my full attention.

This time, she hesitated, just for a beat, but I could tell she wanted to keep talking about it. That she was proud to be a part of whatever they did here.

I nodded encouragingly and she continued. ‘Dr. Avery is one of our staff who worked in the original program. He specialized in rehabilitation and group psychology for the military. He took over from his predecessor, who sadly passed away. They’ve been developing a renewal process.’

Keith glanced at me. ‘Renewal,’ he muttered.

‘Yes. Mind. Body. Spirit. All three must be aligned to live a healthy life.’

Keith scoffed, as if it were all a load of garbage.

The woman scrolled until she found what she was looking for. ‘It looks like you have an appointment with Dr. Avery. If you’d like to step this way, I’ll show you in.’

I started moving, Keith following behind with Tess.

‘I’m sorry, your dog won’t be allowed beyond this point. But I can have someone wait with her?’

As if on cue, a man in a casual shirt walked into the lobby and introduced himself as Brian. I got the feeling he was talking to Tess more than to Keith and me, but I said hello anyway.

Keith clutched Tess’s leash, looking at me with a question in his expression.

I nodded. I wanted to hear what Dr. Avery had to say, and ask a few questions of my own.