Hush

“I’ll wait here,” he said.

She gritted her teeth at that. Orion didn’t want him here on the curb, a front row seat to whatever disaster this would be. But she didn’t have any other alternative, because honestly, she never would’ve survived three hours on a bus with strangers.

“Okay.”

He hesitated before climbing back into the Camaro.

She took a deep breath and crossed the lawn, her heels sinking with each step. She purposefully didn’t walk up the paved path. She wanted to ruin something about this place. The utter perfection of it all enraged her. She didn’t know why, it wasn’t like they should have a fucking tombstone for their daughter sitting beside the mailbox, but it was. There was also something beautiful about dirtying her new shoes, knowing full well she could hop on the web and buy another pair on the drive back. Ruining something beautiful felt powerful to her.

The Donovans had a porch. With a swing. Expensive looking wicker furniture. A plush welcome mat.

Orion’s hand shook as she pressed the doorbell.

She could turn around and run right now, and she felt her legs attempting to do so, something pulling her back to the car. If she had managed to get here on her own, there was no doubt in her mind that she would’ve run, would’ve hightailed it out of there and forced Mary Lou from her memory. But Maddox was there, watching. She would not let him witness her weakness.

So, she waited, poised, her ankles protesting, her soul screaming.

It didn’t take long for the door to open.

“Can I help you?” The older woman with the thick pearls around her neck asked. Her chin tilted upward as if she could somehow smell the trailer park on Orion.

She had tightly curled strawberry blonde hair sprayed within an inch of its life. Her shirt was neatly pressed without a wrinkle or stain. Ditto with her pants. She was immaculately made up and smelled like expensive perfume.

The woman showed no signs of exhaustion or grief clinging to her like it had clung to Shelby’s parents.

She didn’t recognize Orion. Which could’ve been because of the makeup, the clothes, the mask she’d figured out how to perfect in public. But the force at which Orion was sneering at her, with such concentration, she couldn’t have missed who she was. This was a woman who noticed the details. She would’ve recognized Orion if she watched the television coverage, would’ve wanted to know every lurid detail.

“My name is Orion Darby,” she said, proud of her voice and the way her own chin darted upward too. In defiance.

Something moved in the woman’s eyes. Her body stiffened and her gaze turned downright hostile.

“I know who you are,” the woman hissed. “What do you want?”

Orion shouldn’t have been surprised at this response. Mary Lou had told her enough about her stern and unyielding mother. But she didn’t. She expected what a mother should do when faced with the last person to see her daughter alive.

“I’m here because of Mary Lou.” Her voice wasn’t as strong now—it was dry and raspy.

“My daughter is dead.” Not even a hitch in her tone.

Orion sucked in a breath, welcomed the anger simmering in her belly. “I know. I know because I was the one who saw them drag her away. I was the last one to see her, to speak with her, and I made her a promise. To check on her daughter.”

If Orion had slapped the woman, she doubted she would’ve gotten the same flinch. The woman moved into the doorway, standing taller, peering down at Orion with a veiny hand clutching the door frame.

Let the bitch try.

“I don’t know you, young lady. And I will not have you coming to my home, disturbing my family. Mary Lou has been gone for years now. We have grieved her loss for long enough. You will not bring that evil into this house. Am I making myself clear?”

Orion was about to jam her foot in the door the woman was preparing to close. But she heard a voice from behind the foul woman.

“Who is it, Mom?” a girl asked, a preciousness to her tone.

The words had been spoken by a ghost. By the girl who used to try and comfort those imprisoned in a Cell with demons, but more youthful, energized, curious. Without the demons her mother would ever have.

She had strawberry blonde curls too, darker than her mother’s. Her face was slightly rounder, but she was an imprint of Mary Lou down to every detail.

Orion’s heart dropped as she took in the young woman, her heart lurching. She looked up slowly at the woman, her expression hardening, her eyes narrowing. “Mom?” she repeated.

“You need to leave,” the woman said, nudging the young woman back.

“No, I don’t,” Orion spit, taking a step forward. “I need to tell this girl that her real mother did not leave her. She did not abandon her. She was the strongest woman I’ve ever known. She loved her with all her heart. And she fought for her!” Orion didn’t realize she was yelling, so loud that Maddox exited the Camaro.