When the case went unsolved, and the detective involved informed her the most likely scenario had been abandonment, Sasha was then able to move out of town. She had put on a good show for the detective. Her heart was broken, she couldn’t stand to stay in the same city, let alone the same house, as her missing husband. She needed to leave.
There was not a single ounce of regret on her mind. She had killed her husband, yes, but Sasha felt it was more in self-defense. A jury might not see it that way but it was what she had done. Ultimately, she did an unspeakable act in order to keep herself and her daughter safe. Sasha was certain she could live with that.
A few weeks later and she found herself in the small town of Carlisle. Maybe one day she would be able to return to her old life, take Tara back to her friends. Maybe one day she would be able to stop looking over her shoulder, expecting the police to be standing there.
Chapter Twelve
Sheriff Harrison had taken her mind off of the murders, her name in the paper, and even her husband. But now, back at home, the broken levy of memories flooded back like a tidal wave. The dark secret she swore to take to her grave was screaming to come out. For the briefest moment, she thought about sharing the burden with Harrison. Perhaps he would understand.
It was a ridiculous thought and she knew it. She had killed Brent to protect herself from his wickedness. But the law wouldn’t be on her side. Which meant, Sheriff Harrison wouldn’t be on her side. She couldn’t bear to tell another human being what she had done. Telling her mother had been hard enough. Though her mother protected and helped her, Sasha knew her mother secretly despised her. She had committed murder. No matter what angle it was viewed from, it was murder.
Sasha understood how her mother felt. It was how she felt about herself. There was no doubt in her mind she had done what she needed to survive. There was no escaping that man and his abuse. Running would have delayed the inevitable. Action had been necessary. Had she stayed with Brent, she would have been killed sooner or later. Whether it be on purpose or on accident, she knew she would have been killed. Perhaps it would have been a push down the stairs or the cold steel of a kitchen knife against her throat. Either way, her time would have been short.
She kicked off her shoes and fell down on the couch. The day had brought a myriad of emotions and exhausted her to the core. She ran a hand through her hair and looked around the room. Something seemed off, though she couldn’t quite place what it was. After a few moments of thought, she realized a few items were slightly askew. Like the throw blanket on the back of the couch. It had been folded nicely and hung with care. Now, it lay in a heap on the floor.
Maybe it was just her imagination and nothing was out of place. The blanket on the floor could have had a simple explanation. A breeze from the open front door may have blown it off the back of the couch. Or, perhaps more simply, it had fallen when she let herself fall on the couch. But of course, nothing about her situation was normal. Everything seemed strange. She had murdered her husband, fled her life, found a home in the middle of nowhere in a town she had never heard of. None of it felt right.
It took a moment to sink in, but eventually, she noticed something was actually missing. The black candle she had found while unpacking was gone. She was certain she had left it on the end table and it was no longer there. At first, panic had set in like a burning fire deep inside her soul. Every appendage tingled with terror. Had someone been in her house? Had someone stolen the black candle? Was it the killer? Why?
Of course, she did have a kid in the house. They were apt to grab things and move them without so much as a reason. When Tara had been a toddler, she had refused to stop picking up her mother’s shoes and throwing them about the house. No matter how hard Sasha spanked her and how many times Brent yelled, Tara continued her escapade. Deciding it must be the answer, she headed off towards Tara’s room to investigate. Slowly, she creaked open her daughter’s bedroom door. Tara sat on the floor playing with one of her favorite dolls. Sasha smiled at her daughter and decided she didn’t want to disturb her. Instead of asking, Sasha glanced around the room but found nothing.
Quickly, she shut the door and darted back to the living room. She snatched up her cell phone and dialed the sheriff’s number. It seemed silly, calling about a missing candle but it had to mean something. The body found near her home and the heart in her backyard had made her understandably jumpy. Whoever had taken the candle from her home may have been the same person who cut out the heart. In her mind, there was no doubt.
“Goddamnit, of course.” She yelled. “No signal when I need it.”
Dialing again, she did not notice Tara come out of her room. “Son of a bitch!” Sasha yelled and spun around to meet her daughter’s gaze. Immediately, she dropped the phone and forced a smile.
“Is something wrong, Mommy?”
Sasha shook her head. There was no need to fill her daughter’s head with suspicion and fear. She had seen enough
