She pours a bowl of cereal and milk and then pulls out the letter Chrys gave her from her backpack. The envelope seems homemade. There’s just a small piece of tape keeping it closed.
She sits down in front of her bowl. She carefully peels back the tape and pulls out the folded up paper inside. It’s just one small page written in neat cursive. She reads it as she eats.
Giselle,
I’m sorry for everything. I understand if you hate me. In fact, you probably do, right? But, I just wanted to let you know that what I did still haunts me to this day, as much as it probably haunts you.
I never intended to hurt you or mom and dad. I haven’t hurt anyone else since. I have control over it now, so I’m not dangerous anymore, I promise.
I’ve been staying in the camp and they taught me how to control it. The people here are really nice and have been very good to me.
I really want to talk to you, Giselle. One day, I’ll visit you in person.
I wish only the best for you,
Remy
Ron folds the page back up and puts it back in the envelope, smoothing down the tape. She puts the letter on the table and continues eating.
She knows she shouldn’t have read the letter but she wanted to check if it’s something that would have upset Giselle more or not. It seems fairly innocent so, after washing her dishes, she goes back into the bedroom and rests the backpack against the bed.
“Giselle, I found a letter by the door for you,” Ron says, holding out the letter to her.
“It’s probably a bill. Just leave it on the table.” She turns over so she’s facing away from Ron.
“I really don’t think this is a bill. Your name is handwritten on the front. The envelope looks homemade too.”
Giselle sighs and sits up. She takes it with an annoyed expression. Holding it in her hands, she looks at her name written in calligraphy with furrowed brows.
“I don’t know anyone who can write like this,” she says.
Then she turns it over and opens it. She reads the letter, her eyes scanning it quickly.
She crumples up the paper and envelope together and throws them on the ground. She lays back down away from Ron, pulling the covers to her neck.
“Who is it from?” Ron asks.
Giselle sighs. “My stupid brother.” She throws off the covers and sits up again, glaring. “Can you believe him? He has some nerve coming here. Saying he wants to talk and he’ll come again. I don’t want to see his stupid face. Not now, not ever. When did he even come here, huh? Was he here when Iris…? Do you think he had something to do with it?”
Ron sits down on the edge of the bed. “Well, there were no signs of fire anywhere so I doubt he was involved. The letter wasn’t there when we came in earlier so he must have left it fairly recently.”
“Just because there was no fire, doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved. I mean, he claims he has control over his gift now. He could’ve gotten his other idiot buddies to come over and harm Iris.”
“But why would he do that? He said he wants to talk. Sounds like he wants to be on friendly terms.”
“Or, he could be threatening me.”
Ron shakes her head. “I really don’t think so. I think it’s just a coincidence.”
She lays down again in a huff and pulls the covers all the way over her head. “Then what happened to her, huh? What happened? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know either. But she had no wounds or anything like that. It seems to me like it could have been a health issue. Did she have any health issues?”
Giselle is quiet for a bit. Then, she says in a low voice, “Well, heart disease and diabetes does run in her family but Iris was healthy. And whose family doesn’t have those issues these days, you know? And what about Carl? How can you explain him? It’s like he was brain dead.”
“I don’t know but maybe the sheriff has more information about him by now. Do you want me to call her?”
“Fine, I guess.”
Ron gets her phone from her pocket and dials the sheriff’s number.
“Sheriff speaking,” she says, picking up almost immediately.
“Oh, hi, yes. This is Ron, from earlier.”
“Ron, I’m afraid we don’t have the results of Iris’s autopsy yet. I’ll call you tomorrow when the results come out.”
“Okay, thanks. I was also wondering about Carl? Do you know what happened with him?”
She sighs. “Well, he came to an hour or so ago. Just demanded to be released and said he didn’t know what happened. We had no reason to keep him—he was healthy and passed the psych exam—so we let him go.”
“So he doesn’t know either?”
“Doctor said he might’ve just went into shock when he saw the poor girl die. I’m thinking her time just came early, you know? Poor thing.”
Ron nods. “Yeah, that might be it. Thank you.”
“No worries.”
The sheriff hangs up.
Ron turns to Giselle, still buried under the covers. “Carl is back to his senses. Says he doesn’t know what happened either. The sheriff will call me tomorrow after they finish the autopsy.”
Giselle doesn’t reply, so Ron goes out of the room and closes the door behind her. She goes to the living room and lays on the sofa. It’s far too small for her but she makes do by curling her legs in.
She opens the laptop, the episode of the sitcom they were watching earlier still open. Ron lowers the volume and then presses play.
Chapter 34
The foster home.
Ron and I shared a bedroom with just two twin-sized beds and an almost empty closet in it. The room was always clean more so because of a lack of
