Chapter 141

Nathan

Weeks passed after my mother’s funeral. The pain didn’t lessen, but I figured out how to navigate life with that ache in my chest.

The last time I saw my mother—really saw her, not just in passing at some event or another—I had kicked her out. Sure, she was being cruel to Olivia… But she wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. She never did try to hurt anyone. She could be tough and rigid, but she usually meant well.

I didn’t understand why she went to Edward’s Gulch on her own. It made no sense. She was profoundly against the notion of anyone going to that place, and I got my backside tanned on multiple occasions when I snuck there as a kid.

Why, then, was she going there, on her own, in the middle of the rainy spring season? It was so unlike her.

Her empty space at my dad’s dinner party. The replaced portraits. The frantic voicemail. The information that Olivia and I discovered about my pack’s history, about this ‘Edward’ person, who had also supposedly met his untimely death in the very same place as my mother—the place which now bore his name.

What also didn’t make sense was the strange timing of my dad’s little vacation with Jenifer. I had thought that it was strange already that they were going on a weekend trip alone, but Jenifer and my dad had always been close.

I figured that they were just spending some father-daughter time out in nature. But when it came down to brass tacks, that little vacation was only the beginning of it all. I wished that I had paid more attention to the strangeness of it all when it first began.

Maybe I could have saved her.

Something was going on here. I was determined to get to the bottom of it, but my father was a brick wall during Council meetings. No matter how much I tried to talk to him, he wouldn’t hear it. He always had some excuse or another.

But my mother’s death wasn’t the only news that befell our town.

The days grew brighter as the dark cloud of fear that once loomed over our little town started to dissipate. The ‘monster’, Alvin, seemed to have moved on.

The townspeople, eager to grasp at any semblance of normalcy, soon brushed away the memories of the creature, but Olivia and I weren’t so quick to forget.

The return of Alvin’s hand seemed to at least relieve some of his ire. Maybe he lost the desire to run amok and scare people.

Or maybe our little ritual sent him cascading into a deeper depression. I couldn’t decide if it was better this way or not.

Alvin and I, once thick as thieves, had drifted apart over the years. Yet, despite the rift between us, I felt a compulsion, an unspoken obligation, to understand his pain.

Night after night, his elusive figure haunted my thoughts, and the burden of unsaid words weighed heavy on my chest. The last time we saw each other, his eyes were filled with so much hate; but I could still see that old version of him in there.

Maybe my mother’s death made me soft, but I wanted to see my old friend. I wanted to talk to him, to see that part of him—even if it was just a sliver—for a moment. Make him realize that Olivia and I only cared about him. We missed him.

I would never admit it to her after our last argument, but I did miss him.

One evening, driven by an overwhelming need for closure, I decided to visit Alvin. I needed answers, or at least an opportunity to mend our broken friendship. I told Olivia that I was taking a stroll, the dusk air promising a refuge for my tangled thoughts.

Alvin’s home, a modest brick structure adorned with creeping ivy, stood just as I remembered it, at the end of Elm Street.

The lights were out, and a haunting stillness surrounded the place. It was odd, given the hour, but I pushed my apprehensions aside. Taking a deep breath, I approached the front door.

Before my hand even touched the wooden surface, the door creaked open, revealing a void of utter darkness within.

“Alvin?” I called out tentatively into the shadows, hoping to hear the sound of his familiar voice.

Only silence greeted me.

The unease I initially felt now intensified into a gnawing dread. I stepped inside, my footsteps echoing in the vacant hallway.

I didn’t need to search the house to know the truth. Alvin had gone, leaving behind nothing but the shadows of our shared past and a few pieces of rickety furniture.

I felt a pang of sorrow, intermingled with regret. Memories of our shared laughter, adventures, and dreams flooded back, making his absence all the more palpable.

The realization that he had probably left town without a farewell, without mending the bridges that had been burnt, left a bitter taste in my mouth.

All along, he had at least been here; sure, I had been a horrible friend to him as Olivia had said, but he was here. We still had the opportunity to see one another. I guess I thought that he would always be here, and we would always have that opportunity.

The weight of the unsaid words and missed opportunities pressed heavily on my shoulders. But now wasn’t the time for retrospection. He was gone, and no matter how long I spent scouring the empty house, there was nothing left behind.

No clues, no notes. Nothing. He had likely left silently, in the middle of the night, and no one would know where he was. That Chapter of our story had ended, and now, there were other pressing matters to attend to.

Lost in thought, I retraced my steps home. The journey seemed longer, each step echoing the beats of my heavy heart. The town’s lights flickered in the distance, casting long shadows that seemed to dance with my own inner turmoil.

Approaching my house, I saw Olivia’s silhouette waiting on the steps. The soft amber glow of the porch light illuminated her face, her brow furrowed with worry.

I braced myself for the barrage of questions I knew were imminent.

“Nathan,” she began, her voice soft yet brimming with concern. “You were gone for so long. Is everything okay?”

I looked into her eyes, those deep hazel pools of understanding that had always been my anchor. But now wasn't the time to unburden my discoveries or feelings. Not when so much remained uncertain.

“I just needed a walk,” I replied, attempting to mask the turmoil within with a facade of calm. ”I needed to clear my head.”

Olivia’s eyes, ever perceptive, lingered on mine for a moment longer, as if trying to peer into the depths of my soul. She saw right through me, just like she always did.

“Is that really it?” she asked quietly.

I stood there for a moment, my breath hitched in my throat, before it all came tumbling out.

“I went to Alvin’s house. He’s gone. I mean… really gone. His house is completely empty. I think he left the pack once and for all.”

Olivia’s face turned a pale shade of white. I could see her swallow, her throat clenching tightly.

“Are you… sure?” Her voice was low, shaky. I nodded.

All at once, her shoulders began to shake. Her lips quivered, and tears spilled out of her hazel eyes. A sob caught itself in her throat, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to quell it as she sank down onto the porch.

Instinctively, I closed the distance between us and sank down beside her, holding her in the fading light and letting her cry on my shoulder.