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Closer to the Edge

Page 62

   


When I get closer, I can hear her mumbling something over and over as the rain beats down around us in what would normally be a calming rhythm. Nothing about this situation is calming. My heart is racing and my stomach is churning with fear.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh God, I’m sorry.”
Her monotone voice as she whispers the words to herself while she stares blindly out into the yard makes my skin crawl. I don’t want to see what she’s looking at. I don’t want to know what she’s sorry for. I don’t even have it in me to care about her. All of my worry and fears are wrapped up in Olivia and there isn’t room for anything else.
When I’m right behind her, I slowly lift my eyes out into the yard.
“No. Please, no.”
My sister, my vibrant, fun-loving sister, who I still can’t believe is responsible for all of the pain and destruction in our lives, is lying face down in the wet, muddy grass just beyond the cover of the porch roof. Her feet are hooked on the edge of the wood floor as if she was just standing there and then tipped forward onto the ground. The rain mixes with the blood seeping from the hole in the middle of her back, soaking her shirt and turning the white silk varying shades of red.
I don’t have time to try and wrap my head around the fact that she’s gone and that my family has just been broken beyond repair, because a few feet away, lying in the same position, is Olivia.
My legs shake and my eyes fill with tears as I step down off of the porch and around the lifeless body of my sister. I take off running, screaming Olivia’s name as I slip across the wet grass as I fall down on my hands and knees right next to her.
As soon as my hands touch her body, her head lifts up and she cranes her neck, looking back over her shoulder at me. When her eyes meet mine, I sob with relief, flipping her body over and crashing her to my chest.
“You’re okay, you’re okay. Fuck, I thought I’d lost you,” I cry, burying my face into the curve of her neck as she throws her arms around my shoulders and holds me tight, her body shaking with tears as she holds onto me.
I pull back to stare at her face, drinking in the sight of her as I memorize every single feature. My blood boils when I see a bruise on her cheek and a cut on her lip that’s oozing blood, mixing with the rain and dripping down her chin.
“It’s okay, I’m okay. Cole, look at me,” she demands, grabbing onto my face and pulling my eyes away from the marks on her beautiful skin.
“Your mother,” she says firmly when our eyes meet.
“I don’t give a fuck about my mother. Just let me hold you, let me make sure you’re okay,” I argue.
I try to pull her body back to mine, beyond grateful that she’s alive and in my arms, but she moves her hands to my chest and stops me. “I’m fine. I swear to you, I’m okay. Cole, please. No matter what she’s done, no matter what part she had in all of this, she’s still your mother.”
I glance away, but she grabs onto my face and forces me look at her. “She killed her own child, Cole. I know you’re angry, but she saved me. She made a choice between her daughter and me. No mother should EVER have to make that choice. Please, Cole. Don’t make her face this alone.”
Her words rip through me and I see the truth shining in her eyes that I should have seen earlier. Olivia got to be a mother, if only for a little while. She would have moved heaven and earth for our son, would’ve given her own life to make sure he had a good one. The notion that Olivia would ever have consciously chosen to kill her own child is preposterous and I’m so ashamed of myself for doubting her. My mother, for all of her faults, loved us very much. She proved that she would literally do anything for her children—lie, cheat, steal and, in the end, take the life of one to protect the other and everything he held dear.
With a quiet nod, Olivia wraps her arm around my waist and helps me up from the ground, my knee completely useless at this point after the way I abused it today. I shout in pain as I put some of my weight on my leg to test it out, and my knee immediately buckles. Olivia, thankfully, is stronger than she looks, her free arm flying around my waist as she easily takes the majority of my weight. She helps me hop on one foot through the mud as I curse and yell into the rain, my knee already swollen to twice its normal size. Adrenaline is a great fucking drug until it wears off.
Garrett meets us out in the yard and I watch him grab Olivia’s face in his hands and check her over, snarling when he sees the blood and the bruises. She brushes him off and he gently moves her out of the way, helping me walk towards my mother and the shelter of the porch as Olivia rests a supportive hand on my shoulder.
The cops arrive around this point, swarming around the skeleton of the house and badgering my mom with questions. She doesn’t answer them or even look in their direction, just continues to stare down at the lifeless body of the daughter she tried so hard to help. The gun is carefully removed from her hands before an officer pulls her arms behind her back, reading her rights and slapping a pair of cuffs on. Her eyes still haven’t left Caroline’s body and she gives no indication that she’s even aware of what’s going on around her.
I hobble forward with Garrett’s aid until I’m staring down at my mother. Moving my arm from around his shoulder, I stand there on one leg, gazing at the woman who did everything to save her children. In the end, it wasn’t enough. I feel Olivia’s hands on my hips, holding me steady, and it gives me the strength I need to face this, to tell my mother I forgive her for the things she’s done. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly forgive her. In her own twisted way, I know she was doing what she thought she had to do, but her secrets and lies tore my life apart. They took Olivia from me and they took our child from us.