Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(13)

Addison looks to me. “I know we don’t have the details of what happened, but in my head and in my heart, I have to believe that Isaac was doing whatever he could to stop anyone from being hurt. He loved you and this town and everyone. He would’ve sacrificed himself for all of us because that was who he was, but especially for his family. So, I know we don’t have the answers, but if any one of the scenarios I’ve imagined is true, then he was brave, and we have to be too.”

The anguish in Addison’s voice is too much to take. Both of us have silent tears streaming down our faces. “He was brave. He was so strong and always did the right thing. If that’s what happened . . . if I’m alive because Isaac did something to protect me, then you’re right. I owe it to him to be just as brave.”

She squeezes my hand and nods. “Let’s go inside.”

I release a heavy sigh and let her lead me forward. The three men flank us and we walk up the steps, and Spencer reaches forward to pull open the heavy wood door.

This place could be someone’s house from the outside. It is a beautiful white exterior with a large wraparound porch. The trim work is ornate and everything about it is inviting, only it holds the final goodbye inside. One I don’t want to make.

We enter the home, where the upstairs is actually where people live and I’m taken back in time. The foyer is the same as I remember. Cream painted walls adorned with Oregon-themed paintings. The brown carpet helps to quiet the sounds of our heels as we enter. There are three viewing rooms, all varying in size, and on the plaque outside of the largest room is his name. Isaac Davis.

My mother exits the funeral director’s office. She hugs us both before Mr. Moody steps forward, his kind eyes somber as he shakes first my hand and then Addy’s. “I am so sorry for your loss. We all loved Isaac.”

“Thank you,” Addison says softly.

“We will keep everyone else out for the next twenty minutes to allow you privacy,” he explains.

I look to Addison first. “You should go.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not ready to go in quite yet. I think you should go in first. Maybe it’ll . . .”

“Right,” I say, knowing what everyone is hoping.

That I’ll remember.

That I’ll see Isaac, and like a flash bang, the last three years will come back to me.

God, I hope that’s the case.

A hand rests on my shoulder, and I turn to see Spencer. “Are you okay?” His deep voice rumbles through the space.

“No. I can’t do this alone.”

Spencer looks around. “Is Henry here?”

This morning, I didn’t answer him when he asked where Henry was. I just said he’d be here. I couldn’t admit that he wasn’t going to attend. I think that I hoped he would somehow prove me wrong and come anyway. I close my eyes, feeling shame at admitting this. “He had to go back to Portland. He’ll be here in a bit if he can leave work.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s judging Henry for not being here. “Well, you’re not alone. We’re all here.”

Emmett and Holden are a few steps behind him.

They’re always here for me. Always have been. Instead of one older brother, I had four. Each one more of a pain in the ass than the other. Each one thinking they knew what I needed, deserved, or wanted no matter what I said. When some boy broke my heart, those four were there. When I was in ninth grade and Mikey Jones got a little handsy after I said no, it was Emmett who broke his nose and Spencer who threatened his life if he ever came near me again.

It didn’t matter that Spencer was already out of college, someone dared to mess with me and that boy was terrified after that.

As much as it annoyed me, there was always a thrill when it came to Spencer.

“You’ve always had my back.”

“I always will.”

“I know.” I look back at the entrance, stalling for as long as I can because I don’t want to do this. I am so afraid. “Will you . . . go in with me?”

I don’t know why, but I can’t be alone and there’s no one else I trust more than him. Spencer won’t let me fall apart, and Isaac would want him to stand with me.

“Of course.”

I nod, inhaling deeply as my body trembles. We walk toward the entrance of the room, and I have the most intense urge to turn and run. I don’t want to do this—to see him this way. I’m also so afraid of not remembering anything as well as remembering something so horrific that I’ll wish the information were still lost.

We cross the threshold, and I hold my breath, willing my anxiety to ebb.

The panic bubbles up, and then it starts to dissipate when Spencer grabs my hand.

“Don’t be afraid, Brielle. I am . . . we are all here for you. You aren’t alone and you never will be.”

My throat is tight as I force myself to take a breath. “Okay.”

He lets me set the pace as I force my feet forward, and by the time I’m standing next to my brother’s casket, I can barely breathe around the crushing loss filling my lungs. When I sink to my knees, Spencer is behind me, his hand on my shoulder as I look at Isaac.

I wait for something—anything—but there’s nothing but the tears and overwhelming grief as I stare at my brother.

I don’t remember how or who. I don’t recall what took him from us all. I only see the truth that my brother is gone. He’s dead, and I am the only person who knows and yet doesn’t know anything.