Chapter 138

Olivia

The police officer's gaze was steady but filled with a sorrow I recognized immediately.

I had seen it before, back when my own family had faced tragedy. The weight of the news he bore was evident in his posture, the hesitance of his stance, the way his fingers gripped his hat. I instantly felt myself fill with dread.

“Officer Lawson,” Nathan murmured, his voice wavering just a tad. “What's wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Nathan,” Lawson began, clearing his throat, “It's about your mother.”

A heavy silence settled over us, broken only by the chirping of birds and the soft rustle of trees. Nathan’s eyes widened slightly. “What about her?”

Lawson took a deep breath. “Nathan, your mother was found… dead.”

Nathan’s face blanched. He let out a wry, disbelieving chuckle. “You’re kidding,” he murmured, the quiver in his voice betraying the words that came out of his mouth. “Who put you up to this?”

Officer Lawson slowly shook his head, his shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry, Nathan.”

There was a long, palpable silence. The air felt so thick that I was certain I could cut it with a knife. I hardly knew Maria, and yet I even felt my heart beginning to shatter.

Nathan finally let his breath come out in a slow, even hiss after a long silence. “How?” he asked, his voice so low it was barely above a whisper.

The officer looked back and forth between the two of us for a few moments. He seemed to be weighing whether he should tell Nathan now, or whether it should wait until Nathan was more clear-headed. It must have been gruesome.

“Tell me,” Nathan commanded.

The officer nodded. “Her body was found at the bottom of Edward’s Gulch,” he said quietly. “It appears she might've fallen. Or...” His voice trailed off, but the implication hung heavy in the air.

He was going to say that she had jumped. It didn’t need to be said.

We all knew about Edward’s Gulch. It was situated not far from where Nathan’s parents lived, and was regarded as the most dangerous ravine in the area.

Many decades ago, when our parents were still kids, supposedly some kids were playing up there and there was a mudslide. All of them died except for one. After that, the ravine was barred from public use.

Anyone found trespassing the area would face fines, and possibly the night spent in jail. It was a deep, dangerous ravine with a sheer drop to the bottom and lots of jagged rocks sticking out at all angles.

Even animals didn’t go down there.

But now, after discovering my aunt’s hidden library and the true history of Edward’s Gulch, I knew that that place held even more sinister energy in its ragged cliffs and steep drops. And I knew that, after Maria’s voicemail, it may not have been an accident.

I thought back to the way that I remembered Nathan’s mother. She was a hardy, distant, and rigid person. She wasn’t the type to jump to her death. She didn’t even seem like the type to accidentally lose her footing or go so close to the edge of such a deep ravine, either.

Why would she have been at the ravine to begin with?

“Do you…” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “Do you know when…”

The officer nodded. “We only just found her body,” he said. “But the coroner believes she has been dead for about two days.”

My eyes widened slightly. Maria’s voicemail… It was almost two days ago now that she had left it. She sounded frantic. Someone, a man, was yelling at her in the background before the line went silent.

But now was not the time for speculation. I instantly turned to face Nathan, more worried about him than anything else right now.

Nathan's face had drained of color. The guilt, the years of tension with his mother, all bubbled to the surface. He looked as though he had been physically struck, swaying on the spot.

“No...” he whispered, a single word carrying the weight of a thousand regrets. “Not mom.”

I could see the flashback of her last visit tormenting him; the fight, the harsh words exchanged, and the last time he had finally asked her to leave. All because of me. The weight of it all threatened to pull him under.

His knees buckled, and he sank onto the porch, his face buried in his hands. Silent shivers racked his frame. I knelt beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but words failed me.

Lawson, for his part, stepped back to give us space, but the sadness in his eyes remained.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated softly, before walking to his car, leaving us alone in our grief.

For a long moment, all I could hear was the sound of the birds chirping and the haunting silence that follows life-altering news. Nathan said nothing, showed no signs of emotion. His head remained buried between his knees. I wondered sometimes if he was even breathing.

Finally, summoning my courage, I gently touched Nathan’s shoulder, urging him to look up. “Nathan,” I whispered. “We need to get you inside. Okay?”

His eyes, red-rimmed and filled with pain, met mine. He nodded slowly.

The weight of guilt, of pain, of memories better left in the past clouded his face. But I also saw a glimmer of gratitude, a silent acknowledgment of my presence beside him.

With a considerable effort, and with my arm wrapped around him for support, we slowly made our way inside. The villa, which always felt warm and inviting, now seemed cold and indifferent. The dim lighting of the hallway only served to mirror our somber mood.

Nathan moved silently, like a shadow, climbing the stairs to his room. I hesitated at the base of the staircase, torn between giving him space and being there for him. But watching him disappear into his room, the door shutting softly behind him, my decision was made for me.

I found myself outside his door that night, my fingers hovering over the wooden surface. I wanted to reach out, to knock, to offer some comfort, some solace, to make him understand that he wasn’t alone in this pain.

But how do you comfort someone who has lost so much? Especially when he might blame himself for a tragedy that he had no control over?

After what felt like hours, but in reality, was only a few minutes, I finally let my hand drop.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I turned and made my way back downstairs. The villa felt emptier than it ever had, and I felt like a tiny speck in its vastness. The realization that I couldn't fix everything, that some wounds were too deep, bore into me.

I sank into a plush armchair in the dark living room, lost in thoughts of what the future held. How would Nathan cope? How could I help him heal?

And as I pondered these heavy questions, the weight of the day's events pressed down on me, exhaustion claiming me.

No matter how hard I fought sleep, no matter how valiantly I tried to stay awake in case Nathan would need me in the middle of the night, it was a losing battle. Eventually, sleep took over.

And I fell into a dreamless slumber.