One of Those Faces (89)

The next few days only brought more questions. The biggest one was, How did Erin get from Waukegan to downtown? And why?

These questions tormented me. I followed the news stories about her death, but they offered no answers. They were short blurbs in the Breaking News sections on websites, lost among the other headlines of shootings and tragic deaths. Her hometown paper in Skokie didn’t even mention how she’d been found, but went into great detail about how her entrepreneur father had amassed his wealth. They mentioned Erin’s name only twice in the five-hundred-word article.

I closed out of the article and pulled up a new tab. I rocked back onto my knees, the blankets from Danny’s bed scratching my skin. Wilder had mentioned the name of the facility before. Shadow? Sandy? Shady.

I typed in Shady Rehab Waukegan. The first result was Shady Oaks Rehabilitation and Addiction Crisis Center.

The door creaked as Danny slipped back into the room. He hadn’t mentioned it, and I had been scared to ask him about it. But the question had kept me awake the previous night. It was harder to focus on reality. He sank into his desk chair and turned on his desktop. He was researching something of his own, although he didn’t tell me what.

“Danny?”

He swiveled and looked down at me. “Yeah?” He hadn’t slept well either. He’d been hovering and fussing over me, too scared to talk most of the time. We had barely said five words to each other in the four hours since he’d returned from work.

“Why haven’t you asked me about the pill bottle?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Erin’s pill bottle that you found,” I said.

“What about it?”

“The date on the bottle was from around the time she went missing.”

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “She didn’t go missing. She went to rehab.”

I crossed my legs on the blankets. Did she? Did she really go to rehab? I turned away from Danny and back to my laptop.

I heard his chair squeak as he faced the computer again.

I couldn’t explain how the pill bottle had ended up under my bed. I couldn’t explain the nightmare of me hurting Erin.

My phone lit up beside me. It was Iann. I glanced at Danny’s back and quickly left the room, phone in hand. I stalked to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. It was an impulse. Not a decision. “Hello?” I craved his voice.

“Hi,” he said. His voice sounded new now, as if I’d answered the phone to the studio again and he was calling about a class. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to ask if you’d like me to bring your stuff over?”

I puzzled over the words.

“I mean, I didn’t hear from you, and I didn’t want you to think you had to feel weird about taking your stuff back,” he continued.

“No, I . . .” I swallowed. “I can come get it.”

“Okay. If you let me know when, I can bring it with my car if that’s easier,” he said. “I really don’t mind.”

I fell silent again.

“How’s tomorrow afternoon?”

My heart raced. With guilt. Excitement maybe too. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

“So, how are you?” he asked after a pause.

I could imagine the feeling of his lips on mine again. The comfort of staying at home with him and Leo on the bed, watching TV. But in my vision, I saw the looming shadow of Alayna behind us. I shuddered. “Iann . . .” I swallowed. “Erin passed away.”

“What?” he asked quietly.

I inhaled. “She died. They found her a couple of days ago.” I slid down the wall onto the floor. I grounded my toes into the soft blue rug by the sink, my hand quivering.

“Oh my god,” he said. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I feel like it’s my fault.” My voice caught on the last word. “She OD’d.”

“Harper,” he murmured, “you can’t blame yourself. She had her own demons way before she met you.”

I closed my eyes. “The last time I saw her, we had a big fight. She hated me.” And maybe I had truly hated her in that moment too.

“I know that’s not true. She cared about you.”

“It was so bad,” I said, raising my hand to my temple. “I said so many things to her that I didn’t mean.” And what was the point? I had wanted to protect Danny. But no one was looking out for her.

“There’s no way you could have known.”

I chewed my lip. “I’m glad you called.”

“Yeah, me too. I had no idea. I’m sorry.” He fell silent for a moment. “Let me know if you need anything. And I can bring your stuff some other time. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.”

I opened my eyes again; they were close to overflowing. “No,” I said. “You should come over.”





CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR


You didn’t think this through.

At no point during the train ride did I think through what I would do once I arrived at Shady Oaks.

I rubbed my hands together as I sat on the bench, shivering against the wind. It had been completely still in front of the facility for nearly an hour. As I had walked closer, a car had approached and parked. A wealthy older couple got out and hesitantly entered the building.