I was starting to understand so much about this beautiful boy, the layers of his heart no doubt twisted and mutilated from previous pain. I was sure he’d experienced years of it, physical scars I’d seen. He did things the only way he knew how.
“I want to see,” I gasped, gripping his arms. I buried my face into his jacket. “I want to know whatever it is you have to show me.”
Despite what I said, Royal didn’t move, the pair of us just standing there in the chill. I physically had to separate myself from him, his cheeks filled with red from the wind. I touched one. “I think I just need your help.”
Nodding, Royal led me inside a building so sleepy in this AM. It was still early and we didn’t even have to check in at the doors, just walked on in, and Royal had clearly been here before. He led the way, his hand tight in mine. A few times he kissed the back of it, then eventually brought his strong embrace around me entirely. He guided me down a hallway barren of people, brick walls painted white and air smelling too sterile. It was like they bathed the place in bleach, pungent and entirely too clean. Coming across a door, Royal stopped in front of it.
“Let me have your hands,” he said, and I gave them to him. He pulled off my gloves, then his own with his teeth. After pocketing them both, he rubbed my hands in his, taking the moments to bring them to his mouth.
He breathed so much heat into them, his eyes closed and mine shut too. I stayed in the dream, allowed him to take me away. I realized in that moment I think that’s why he did it. He was giving me more time…
Maybe even giving himself a few moments too.
Letting go, he touched our foreheads together. “You ready?”
There was no getting ready for something like this. Being here already had changed everything, but being brave, I told him I was, and after he let go, he knocked on the door behind us. Royal’s fist touched a glass window lightly, opaque so I couldn’t see inside.
The door opened only seconds later.
A man stood there, a thin man in a white jacket. He also wore rubber gloves, his name plate stating, Dr. Felton. Dr. Felton barely greeted us, a nod like he’d been expecting us. Stepping back, he allowed us entry into the space behind him, more of that antiseptic smell blasting its wave on me. The array forced a wave of nausea I didn’t anticipate, and Royal grabbed my hand. He squeezed as if he knew, and after we got inside, Dr. Felton closed the door.
“I assume you have payment?” the doctor asked, and acknowledging that, Royal pulled out his wallet. He took out more bills, handing them over to Dr. Felton.
Royal replaced the wallet back into his jeans. “There’s more in there for time and the room. We won’t need you.”
I blanched. He really had done this before.
The doctor pocketed his cash. “Very well. I’ll get you what you need, then you have the space to do with as you please.”
I followed him with my gaze as he rerouted to a bookshelf, and with his back turned, I finally got a moment to take in the room. The area appeared as an operating room, a metal board in the center with various tools on tables surrounding it. There were all kinds of operating devices, knives and blades…
She was in here.
The sickness rose again, and like wildfire, Royal returned. He placed a hand behind my arm this time, waiting while the doctor ventured over from a wall full of binders. Dr. Felton only had one when he returned.
“As always no pictures,” he said, eyeing us. “The files in here are restricted.”
“And your only copies?” Royal asked, his expression vacant, hard. I’d seen him like this enough times to know the legitimacy. He gave zero fucks if he expected something, not an act at all.
Dr. Felton nodded. “Yes. I preserved them after your last visit. They won’t be destroyed as previously requested. That is as long as payment continues?” Royal need only give this man a look, and he was placing the book on the metal table, his answer apparently given. Dr. Felton stepped back. “You have as long as you need.”
The doctor left the room, and with his absence, I felt the chill, the reality of whatever this was before me. I was about to see something and I had a feeling it was something I didn’t want to see. Royal came behind me, unzipping my coat but when he started to take it I shook my head. It may be warm in here, but I was so cold.
He put his hands on my shoulders. “I won’t do anything. Not until you’re ready.” He was leaving this to me. All of this? I shook my head again, and he brought his arms around me, his chin brushing my ear. “What do you need from me, Em?”
I needed this; my eyes closed as I embraced the weight of his arms. “What page do I need to turn to?”
“One forty-two. Do you want me to do it? I can. Just give me the word.”
I must have given him enough of one because soon, he was reaching around me. He opened that binder, and the appropriate page must have been marked because the book opened right to page 142. Getting to what Royal needed me to see was too easy.
So easy…
I covered my mouth at only a look of photos, hands that didn’t look like hands. There were only pieces… fingers and the flash of a face, bruises on cheeks and around eyes…
I can’t do this.
This wasn’t her. This wasn’t what she was supposed to be. This wasn’t my sister. This wasn’t…
“Em!”
I collapsed to the floor, and Royal came with me, holding me, squeezing me so damn tight.
“December, I’m sorry. Sorry,” he rasped, pushing back my hair as he rocked me, but sorry for what? Showing me this? My sister’s spare parts? What did this show? What could this possibly show?
“Why?” I ached, shuddering in his arms. “Why did you do this? Why would you show me this!”
“Because it’s the truth.” He ached too, his deep voice so thick and pained. “It’s everything. Paige, she… Paige had bruises. Bruises around her wrists and forearms. Her neck…”
Her neck?
“It all shows signs of trauma,” he continued. “Do you understand me?”
I didn’t understand, and he pulled back my hair, clearing it from my ear when he leaned in.
“The bruises were everywhere, Em. Her waist and in between her legs…” Royal shook his head. “There’s trauma everywhere—”
“What are you trying to say!” I turned around, and he let go of me. I’d never seen such torture on his face, such raw emotion, when he squeezed his eyes.
He dropped his hand. “I’m saying your sister was dragged by a train, yeah. But there’s a binder full of evidence that shows she was dead before it even came down the track.”
Five
One year ago
Paige
“How are you holding up, Paige?”
I opened my eyes, unable to fucking breathe. Pressing my hand to the office’s window, I stared outside. People were across the street in a park, people together and just chillin’. One couple pushed a baby in a stroller. They were together, not thinking about anyone else or fucking drama.
“Paige… I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. It’s… It’s not right.”
“Paige?”