Beautiful Villain

“Talking to Gramps?”

“Yeah. I mean, he didn’t think I was a stalker, did he?”

“Oh, he definitely thought you were a stalker,” I laugh,

and she blushes. Then I shake my head. “But you know, in a good way.”

“Gee, thanks,” she smirks. “I guess I was hoping I would come across as fun and interesting, not crazy and weird.”

“You didn’t come across as weird,” I tell her. “Don’t worry. Your letters meant a lot to me. You have no idea.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” she tells me.

I like watching her drive. I don’t have to tell her the way to the old mill. She knows how to get there perfectly well. Part of me is surprised that she remembers it, but then again, it’s the place that changed all of our lives.

She pulls off the main road and down an unmarked dirt road. Trees line either side of the road, and their branches extend over the top to form a sort of canopy. As soon as we’re on this road, the sun seems to disappear behind the leaves, and Finley turns on her headlights.

Breathe.

I have to remind myself to breathe.

It’s hard to believe that I’m back here after all of this time, and that we’re really doing this. We’re going to explore the mine and see if we can find any clues. The reality is that we probably won’t find very much.

After all, it’s been years.

I’m sure that rain and crazy weather and animals wandering around have made a huge difference in the way that the mill looks. Chances are that any evidence has long disappeared, but I have to try.

Samuel was such a good friend. It’s not fair that he died, but even more than that, it’s not fair that no one knows who killed him. I get that right now, I’m the scape goat, but I want justice. I want everyone to know who actually killed him, and I want everyone to know why.

I want to know why, too.

She slows down the car as reach a locked gate.

“Hang on,” I say. “I’ve got the keys.”

I jump out of the car, hurry up to the gate, and slide the worn key into the rusty lock. My grandfather bought this place to help me have a chance, I realize. I hope he never actually came out here, but I’m damn grateful he felt it a good idea to buy it. Gramps was a good man, and he has no idea just how helpful it is to be able to come out here and wander around without anyone causing trouble or giving us a hard time.

I push the gate open and step aside so Finley can drive through. Once she’s safely inside the gate, I close it and lock it back up. We don’t need any other visitors. I’m not exactly expecting anyone, but you never know with a place like this or a time like this.

People really, really don’t like me.

I wouldn’t be surprised if someone happened to “just wander by” on a morning jog and then call the cops when they see us.

She drives a little farther down the road. It’s still dirt, but it’s choppier up here. We’re almost to the mill. On the other side of the woods is the high school and the football field. It’s close, but this is the only way to access the mill by car. You can reach it on foot from other directions, but the woods are so overgrown these days that I doubt that’s an easy task.

Finally, she stops the car, and we both stare at it.

“There it is.”

“There it is,” I agree.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah,” I say, but that’s a total lie.

I’m not sure.

I’m not ready.