The door was shut and rimmed with light, which speared out onto the ground. I wiped my eyes and lifted my hand to knock, but had second thoughts. What had Gary said?
He’s not gonna get away with it.
I stepped gingerly forward, peering through the crack, but it was too narrow to see anything. I stepped away. I had to let him know I was home, otherwise once I was holed up in my room he would never know. ‘I’m back,’ I shouted at the door.
The music stopped and I heard movement inside. The door opened and Kevin came out.
‘What happened?’ he said, immediately closing the door behind him. ‘What time is it?’
‘I decided to leave early.’
‘You should’ve called.’
‘It’s okay. I wanted to walk.’
My knees, scraped on the gravel when I fell, suddenly began to sting and I could feel a trail of blood trickling down my shin and pooling in the top of my shoe.
‘I’m going to bed,’ I said. ‘I just wanted to let you know I was back.’
‘Okay.’ He nodded.
‘Great.’ I turned to go.
‘Wait a minute,’ he said.
‘What?’
He rubbed his jaw. ‘You know I’d never do anything to hurt anyone, don’t you?’
Had he seen the Facebook post? I shrugged as if I didn’t know what he meant. I was still shaken up from what Gary had said and wanted to go and hide in my room.
You’re that killer’s daughter.
Later, as I was trying to sleep, my mind was caught in a vicious loop of Gary’s dark shape and my mother’s white image. No matter what that counsellor said about perceptual distortions, it was clear to me that my mother had been there. This wasn’t something in my head. She had been there in those headlights clear as Kevin had been standing near that garage. I tried to form a pattern in my mind of when I had seen her and Dylan, trying to figure out their chosen moments to appear to me. Mum at the waterhole after my fight with Kevin. Dylan in my dream. Dylan under the water. And now when Gary threatened me, my mother on the road, like an archangel, white and pure.
This was no random thing. I could no longer ignore the signs, the chilling evidence that came unbidden from my subconscious, that Kevin, the man I lived with, the man my mother had loved, could have been the one who killed Dylan. Part of me could see all the signs, the same bitter and resentful part of me that blamed Kevin for everything.
He’s not gonna get away with it.
I should have gone back to the waterhole. I should have listened to those dreams and visions. That’s what they were telling me: to return. I think I knew all along what needed to be done. But I didn’t do it. Call me a coward, but I couldn’t. If Dylan was up there somewhere at the waterhole, and if Kevin had put him there, I didn’t want to be the one to find him. I didn’t want to be the one to discover my stepfather had killed someone. I told myself that was an understandable reaction, so my masterful plan was to leave Kelly’s Crossing, to go to the city and find my father. I had no other option because staying seemed impossible.
I needed my father to understand. I needed him to help me out of the mess my life had become. If I was going to the city to meet him it had to be soon. So, I finally sent the email.
Hi,
It’s Sunny. I don’t know if you heard, but Mum had a car accident and died a few months ago. I’m sorry if this is a shock but I feel it’s your right to know.
I’m not sure how much Mum told you about my life. I’m not sure because I never asked much about you and now I feel ashamed about that. If I’m honest I never really thought I needed anyone but Mum. I had someone. I had her, and I thought that was enough.
Anyway, I don’t want you to be worried. I don’t want money or anything. I don’t want to ruin your life or spoil your family. It’s just that, with Mum gone, I’m kind of on my own. It turns out you’re someone, the only person I’ve got left, and I would like to meet you. That’s all. You don’t have to tell your family about me or anything. I know you and Mum were both very young when I was born and maybe I’m some sort of regret in your life. But I think if you got to know me you’d think I was alright and you wouldn’t regret me anymore. All I want is to know you because you’re my dad and I think everyone deserves someone in their life. And maybe I can be someone to you too.
Sunny
Later that night when I was drifting into unconsciousness, the phone rang. I scrambled for my mobile on the bedside table, thinking that maybe it was my father calling me, but then I realised it was the kitchen phone.
I was instantly wide awake; the piercing ring sent a chill of fear through me. Late-night phone calls belonged to misery and melancholy, like the time the phone rang and someone on the other end told Mum that Grandma had passed away. I remember standing in the doorway of our Dawson house watching Mum’s face. She’d placed the phone so gently in its little cradle and looked at me. She didn’t have to say anything, I knew. I screamed because no-one I’d ever known had died and it seemed like the most frightening thing in the world. It seemed impossible; something that only happens in books and films.
At least, when
