Page 69 of Fragile hearts

“How did you know?” No one knew that Asher was my best friend so that they couldn’t have told him.

“It was on the news. I recognized your house from the pictures you showed me.”

“I—” I start, then see that he’s not the only guest in my house. Killian and Connor are there too, and so is Carson’s mom, who’s cutting a pie? But it’s the other two guests that surprise me the most. Two men dressed in police uniforms.

At least it’s not Kane this time.

“Ms. Caldwell,” One of them greets me. I haven’t seen them before. They’re both young, maybe a few years older than me. One is blond and short. Officer Maxwell, his name tag says.

His partner, Officer Stanton, is about Carson’s height with black curly hair.

“Officers. What can I do for you?” I’m pretty sure I already know why they came here.

I haven’t heard anything since they decided to open my brother’s case, but two police officers showing up here is not a coincidence. I jump off the last step, my bare feet touching the cold floor. I walk over to Carson, who’s already staring down at me worriedly. I press a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the shocked gasps behind me. Then wrap my pinky around Asher’s. He’s only afraid to be touched by women, and I respect his bodily autonomy, so I never touch him. He surprised me one day by interlocking our pinkies, and now that’s our thing.

It hasn’t been that long since we’ve seen each other, but it feels like a lifetime.

I take a step back and stand next to Carson. “We’re here about your brother,” Officer Stanton says.

“I heard you’re opening the case again,” I say. Officer Maxwell nods.

“We were hoping…” He looks over at his partner before continuing, “That you’d be willing to talk about what happened. From your point of view.”

“Sure,” I agree, shocking them. They were not expecting that answer. An arm brushes mine. Carson’s eyes are wide with worry.

“You don’t have to,” he says softly. His pink gliding against mine.

“I know, but maybe it will help this time.” The first few years after Micah’s murder, I still thought the cops would visit, or I would hear on the news that they caught him, but as the years went by, the chance it would happen got slimmer and slimmer. But they have new technology now, so maybe they’ll get new evidence. If that means I have to tell them what happened that night, I will gladly do it, even if it will take a toll on my mental health. I deserve closure, and my brother deserves to rest in peace.

“Right here? Or at the station?”

“Well, actually…” He starts hesitantly. I don’t like where this is going. The last time I told this story was in the hospital, and I already didn’t like that. The police station would be my preferred answer. But I wouldn’t mind here, as long as it was just the cops and me, and maybe Carson if he wanted to be there. I would ask Ash too, but I know he doesn’t like hearing that story. It gives him flashbacks to his own childhood, and I don’t want to do that to him.

But if it’s not going to happen here or at the station, there is only one other place where it can be held. “We wanted to take you to the house it happened in.”

Fuck.

I haven’t been there in years. The last time was the night Micah died. I have thought about that house millions of times. Sometimes I wish they’d bulldozed it so I would never have had to see it again. But other times I’m glad it’s still there. Micah loved that house. He always said it was the favorite house he lived in. That house is one of the last things that connects me to him. The reason why I haven’t been inside that house yet is the same as why I haven’t visited Micah’s grave. It will make everything final. My dreams are filled with memories of Micah, things we did growing up, and I’m scared that if I see that he’s really dead, the dreams will stop. And that’s the last thing I want. When I have those dreams, it’s like he’s alive again. I can pretend for a while that everything is okay. The dreams always end in nightmares, but those few minutes of happy memories are something that I will treasure forever.

“Do we have to?” I ask. Officer Maxwell’s eyes are dull filled with sadness.

“We think that’s the best place. Most survivors know the most at the place where it happened.”

Carson grabs my hand, interlocking our fingers, and gives me a gentle squeeze.

“Fine.” My heart races at the thought of spending time in that house.

But I will do it for Micah.

“I like the old door better,” I tell Carson when we’re standing in front of the house of my nightmares. “This one is so…Black.” Carson doesn’t reply. He kisses our interlocked hands, his lips forming a thin line. He doesn’t like that I’m doing it. He knows the reason, but he doesn’t like the thought of what it will do to me afterward. I’m worried about that too, but I know Carson will help me if it gets too hard. Asher is back at my place. He was grateful and saddened at the same time when I told him it was better for him to stay home. He wanted to help me, but knew why he couldn’t. We had eaten some lunch together. Killian and Connor had brought some sandwiches, which we ate. The officers waited outside. Carson’s mom had offered us some pie too, but I had refused. I wanted to have something to look forward to.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I grab Carson’s hand tighter.

“I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” I know I can walk away right now, but I have to do this for Micah.

“I want to help.”