Chapter 33 - The Woman of the House

Angela is cooking in the kitchen. The sun shines through the windows and lands on her face. Turning away from the oven to put a dish on the counter, she smiles at me. Her teeth are in neat rows, and her blonde hair falls just below her shoulders in effortless waves. Only she’s not smiling at me. Jonathan emerges from behind me, and her smile follows him as he moves toward her. I try to speak, but no words come out. I want to ask Angela what happened. She looks so happy here.

I put my hand to my face. Where my mouth should be, there’s only skin. It’s like my mouth is taped shut by my own flesh. I try to scream, but only a muffled moan comes out. Angela turns to face me. A warm glass dish is nestled between two oven mitts on each hand. The smile on her face fades as her expression changes altogether. The dish between her hands falls to the ground. Food mixed with shards of glass is scattered all over the kitchen floor. I bend down to help her clean it up. I want to tell her it’s okay, but I can’t because she’s running. Her bare feet sprint across the broken glass toward the back door. Blood-smeared footsteps are left in her wake. Jonathan is gone. Angela needs me.

I follow her into the yard. Her blonde hair trails behind her. I try to tell her to wait. When she turns around and sees me, she looks afraid. We’re at the edge of the cliff looking down at the lake below. “Don’t jump,” I want to tell her, but I don’t have to. She scales the side of the rocky edge, expertly maneuvering the precipice like a set of stairs. I try to do the same. When she sees I’m still behind her, she climbs down faster. Stray rocks loosen from their place in the dirt and fall onto the shore below us. “Where are we going?” I try to yell, but all that comes out are long, drawn-out cries. Once we’re down on the rocky beach, Angela doesn’t hesitate. She runs toward the water at full speed and doesn’t stop when it hits her feet. The waves carry her farther out into the lake. Her body disappears under the surface in one fluid motion. One moment her blonde hair is fanning out on top of the water, and the next it’s gone. It’s like it was never there in the first place.

I have no choice but to follow her. My skin prickles against the cold. The rocks are sharp against my bare feet. I lose my footing and fall in. “Angela! Angela, wait!” I try to yell, but it’s no use. I wade out deeper into the lake until my feet can’t touch the sandy bottom. My head bobs along the surface, waiting for Angela to reemerge, but she doesn’t. Soon, a wave hits my face and takes me under.

I gasp for air, but water clogs my throat. My legs flail beneath me. It doesn’t matter how hard I kick, I don’t go anywhere. Seaweed reaches up from the bottom of the lake, wrapping itself around my ankles, pulling me deeper and deeper until the light on the surface is completely gone. As I sink lower, I try to cry out for Angela, but she doesn’t answer. She’s gone. I’m alone. Then there’s a knocking noise. A voice in my ears.

I open my eyes. I’m not in the lake, I’m in my car. Someone is knocking on the window.

“Sorry! Sorry!” a voice says. I rub my eyes and pull my hair back behind my shoulders. “Didn’t mean to wake you! Well, I did mean to wake you, but I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I squint to see who it is. The man mumbling outside my door is Officer Ryan, the cop from earlier. He looks like he’s alone. I roll down my window.

“Hi, Officer,” I say through a dry mouth.

“Everything okay in there?” he asks, peering into my back seat, for what I’m not sure.

“Oh yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” I say, trying to pretend I didn’t just fall asleep in my car.

“You know, I was actually just on my way back to your house when I spotted your car.” He puts his hand on the hood and leans over my window. The stance looks unnatural on him, like something he picked up from watching cop shows.

“What can I help you with, Officer?” My fingernails dig into my palms.

“I was wondering if you could come into the station with me?”

“What for?” I inhale deeply, but the breath gets stuck in my throat and I forget to exhale.

“It’s routine.” He senses my hesitation. “Come on, you can follow me.” He starts walking back to his car. “It won’t take long,” he says over his shoulder, leaving me no choice but to follow him.