Alna wasn’t particularly happy about having to remain in the hospital for another few days, but seeing as she knew it was best to listen to the doctor’s orders, she tried not to complain. At least, not too much.
It was Marianna herself and Alna’s family who made the time bearable. Marianna, as it turned out, could have the patience of a saint when she wanted to. The few times that Alna complained about being bored, Marianna gave her an indulgent smile and promised to get her any books she wanted. Had, in fact, shown up with three books from her high school library the day after Alna woke up.
Marianna even allowed Alna to borrow her phone so she could look up information using her less-than-legal methods. Alna was a philomath, after all, and not knowing, without a doubt, what Harlow Ashworth’s motives were would not stand.
And that was why Alna spent a good half an hour doing what she could to add protections to Marianna’s phone before doing her research. She was twice as careful about covering her digital tracks. The last thing she wanted to do was get Marianna in even more trouble.
It took some time, but after combing through some old news articles that dated back decades, she finally found something. They weren’t original articles, so much as scanned copies of the newspapers that mentioned a car accident the Ashworth family was involved in. The article Alna was looking at was a dated newspaper clipping, browning with age and containing a few water stains. Below the copied image was the original photo included in the paper: an old-fashioned car stuck in a ditch, having rammed headfirst into a tree planted there.
Whoever posted this scanned image had also rewritten the entire article underneath. That was rather convenient. Reading a scanned copy of a decades-old news article would have been less than ideal.
“You will be glad to know,” Alna said, snatching Marianna’s attention away from the math homework she had been working on, “that Ashworth had some semblance of a reason for what she did.”
Marianna immediately closed her binder, bending down to place it in her backpack and retrieve the notebook she’d started taking notes in during “The Case of the Accidental Deaths,” as she called it.
“Tell me,” Marianna demanded, gripping her pencil tightly. She leaned forward, her lips parted ever so slightly, displaying her intrigue.
Alna wanted to kiss her but tamped down the urge and brought her eyes back to Marianna’s phone.
“According to this article, Ashworth and her parents got into a ‘car accident’ when she was twelve years old, in which her parents were killed.” Marianna made a soft, surprised noise, scribbling in her notebook. “The authorities ruled it nothing more than a tragic accident, but here, at the very end of the article, there is a statement from Ashworth.” Alna flipped the phone around for Marianna to see.
“‘It wasn’t an accident. Someone did this on purpose,’” Marianna read aloud, frowning with a mixture of confusion and disgust. The glow from the phone made the slight bags under Marianna’s eyes stand out starkly, even with the attempted coverage of makeup. Marianna wasn’t getting as much sleep as she should be. It was likely she hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep since the confrontation with Ashworth and Cope.
“So killing all those people was a misplaced revenge scheme?” Marianna said, sounding bewildered.
“It appears so.”
“That wasn’t at all what I was expecting,” Marianna admitted after a pause. “Although I suppose it makes sense, in a twisted sort of way.”
Alna nodded thoughtfully.
“But why would someone kill Ms. Ashworth’s parents?”
“I’m asking myself the same question. However, I do not believe that is altogether relevant to us. Or our so-called case.”
Marianna’s face fell at Alna’s callous answer. She looked perturbed. Alna felt herself soften.
“I can look into it if you want. But I can’t promise I will find anything of importance,” Alna offered.
“It’s up to you,” Marianna said, shoulders lifting in a slight shrug. She looked relieved, despite her dismissive answer.
Marianna ducked her head, scribbling away. Alna turned her attention back to the phone she held, debating the pros and cons of hacking into the police system on her girlfriend’s phone. Yes, she’d done what she could to protect it, but again, this was her girlfriend’s phone. Alna being discovered––while it seemed unlikely, considering how long she had been doing this––was one thing. The thought of anything being traced back to Marianna was enough to make her stomach churn.
She turned to Marianna, who had started on her homework once more, apparently thinking Alna had returned to research.
Alna frowned as she surveyed her girlfriend. She never missed the way Marianna’s eyes would become distant at times, her mind focused on something other than the present. Perhaps she thought Alna didn’t notice the way her breathing rate would elevate––when her complexion became even more pale.
Or Marianna chose not to acknowledge the fact that she was suffering from some form of PTSD.
Alna hesitated before saying, “Marianna.”
At the sound of her name, Marianna raised her eyes to Alna’s, the shadows of exhaustion still present.
“I feel ridiculous for asking, but would it bother you if I continued my research on your phone in a less than legal manner?” She internally winced at her own beating around the bush, but saying she wanted to use Marianna’s phone to hack into the police system was both risky and sounded absurd.
Marianna blinked, her expression conveying her bewilderment. She turned in her chair to check that no one was coming through the door before turning back to Alna. “The police files, you mean?” she clarified. Clearly, she had no problem saying it aloud herself.
Alna felt a bit stupid, but brushed it off.
“Yes.”
Marianna smiled at her. “I don’t mind. Do whatever you have to.”
This girl was amazing, Alna mused as she gave in to the urge to kiss Marianna. Her lips were soft and warm, tasting of bubblegum chapstick. Alna allowed herself a moment to linger, pulling away when a nurse came in to do a routine checkup. She brought with her a jelly-like substance coloured a revolting green. Alna grimaced at the thought of having to eat the stuff but made no complaint and instead thanked the nurse politely.
Once the nurse departed, Alna allowed herself a moment to glare at the jiggling green abomination before scooping some up with a spoon. Her nose wrinkled as she chewed on the cool, moist morsel. The only thing she’d been allowed to eat lately, as her body adjusted to being fed the traditional way.
From Alna’s left, Marianna let out an amused breath. When Alna directed a glare at her, Marianna gave Alna a look that radiated false innocence. Her patience, it seemed, knew no bounds. At least when it came to Alna.
“I could try to smuggle something in for you,” Marianna offered, her voice sincere. “Something that would be easy on the stomach.”
For a second, Alna considered the offer, longing for some proper food. She steeled herself. “Best not. It’s rarely a smart decision to go against a doctor’s orders,” she continued, only half talking about Doctor Brown. Her mother had sworn by the jelly as well. Alna wasn’t about to go against her in this situation; not when she knew better.
“Just thought I’d offer,” Marianna offered, sounding unbothered.
As Alna chewed on her third bite, she picked up Marianna’s phone and resumed her quest to access the Brigate Police files.
Finally, after nine and a half minutes, Alna finally came across files detailing Ashworth’s and Cope’s arrest and carefully perused them. She took another bite of the disgusting jelly.
Alna couldn’t fight the humorless smile that appeared on her face a few minutes later. Marianna, noticing this, asked, “What is it?”
“They both had trials,” Alna said, her voice flat.
“I heard about that, actually,” Marianna admitted. Alna could hear the frown in her voice as she turned to face her. “I’m not sure I understand why; I thought the information they received from my call would be enough evidence.” The tired lines in her face disappeared, making way for confusion.
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“I don’t claim to be an expert on courts. Or politics. Although I know few to no one is to be sentenced to prison with a trial. If you remember, Cope wasn’t exactly talkative during our little meeting. As for Ashworth, I suppose one may argue that she is insane. That she might not have had a hold of all her mental faculties while she committed her crimes.”
Marianna’s expression turned thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess so,” she said, voice tight. She sounded annoyed. And with good reason.
Alna gave Marianna a sympathetic look to convey that she understood Marianna’s frustration, setting aside her empty plastic cup and Marianna’s phone.
“Both Cope and Ashworth will spend many years in prison, according to what I have read,” Alna said after glancing toward the door. Alna adjusted herself, pulling the white blanket over her legs.
Noticeable relief showed on Marianna’s face. “That’s good.” She reached for her phone, shooting a questioning look at Alna, who gestured to indicate she could have it back.
“It is, indeed,” Alna agreed after swallowing.
A comfortable silence fell between the two girls, one that Alna was grateful for.
It was a bit disconcerting, Alna mused, how she had, in some ways, begun to rely on Marianna. Alna didn’t have nightmares. Not the same way other people did, anyway. Instead, when she’d been wandering through her personal––and now fully accessible––world, Alna’s thoughts wandered. In the span of eight seconds, Alna had conjured the sound of screeching tires, a gunshot going off, and found herself jolted back into the real world.
Last night, when such an incident had woken her, Alna stared into the near pitch darkness before she redirected her thoughts: pi, the French Revolution, Marianna’s soft embrace, multiplication, Marianna’s gentle kisses. Running through random facts generally helped Alna calm down in such moments, but this time, thinking of her girlfriend was what quieted Alna’s racing thoughts to a more manageable level.
Alna was pulled back to reality by the very object of her deliberation. Marianna had rested her hand atop Alna’s and was peering at the other girl with a comforting, if worried, half-smile.
“You okay?” Marianna asked. “You went somewhere else again.”
Marianna was a good actor when she tried, but Alna, being as adept at reading people as she was, heard the slight tremor in Marianna’s voice. She was worried, Alna realized, that Alna was experiencing the same anxiety attacks that Marianna herself was still having.
Alna, touched at Marianna’s caring nature, flipped her hand and fitted her fingers through the spaces of Marianna’s own. “I’m fine,” Alna assured her. It wasn’t a lie. Alna was fine. She’d simply gotten lost in her head, as she was wont to do.
Marianna didn’t look all that satisfied with Alna’s answer. She took a moment to study her face. Alna tried to keep her expression open and honest, making a deliberate attempt not to hide anything from Marianna. It was strange, going against her very nature like that, but she owed it to Marianna.
After a moment, seeming somewhat satisfied with what she saw, Marianna sat back, still holding onto Alna’s hand.
Alna’s family showed up mere minutes later and Alna grinned, wincing as Evan crawled onto her bed.
***
It was a Friday when Alna was released from the hospital, four days after her awakening. Alna received strict instructions on what she could and could not eat and a strong recommendation of physical therapy. She wasn’t particularly happy about either but Alna was hardly going to argue with a doctor––or, rather, doctors, seeing as Mom understood everything Doctor Brown told them. Alna left the hospital after her parents thanked the man. Several times.
The act of leaving the hospital proved to be embarrassing. Due to her weakened legs, Alna was reduced to shuffling. She tried to walk with as much dignity as possible, although she didn’t mind Marianna’s help. She’d positioned herself at Alna’s right, gripping her arm as she helped Alna along.
She was missing school for Alna yet again. Alna wished she had the type of influence that could count Marianna’s support as charity work. Or something of the like. At least then it might begin to make up for all the time she was missing.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Marianna piped up as they stepped out into the cool, crisp air, “I could see if I can go to physical therapy with you or something.”
Alna swallowed down the urge to bite out that she was not, in fact, a child. Marianna was simply offering her support and Alna liked her all the more for it. “You are under no obligations,” she pointed out.
On Alna’s left, Dad gripped Alna’s elbow, guiding her around a patch of ice. The parking lot was covered in both snow and ice, seeing as it had snowed last night. Not even the yellow lines that marked the parking spaces were visible. It was light out, despite the sky being completely covered by clouds, and the temperature was definitely somewhere below zero.
Ahead of them, Mom sped up to open the back door of her truck.
At her right, Marianna tightened her grip on Alna’s elbow. “I know I’m not,” she said.
As Dad tried to assist Alna with getting into the truck, Alna brushed him off. “I understand your concern, Dad, but I do believe I can conquer this part by myself.”
Her father agreed with reluctance. Alna could feel his gaze on her back as he watched her climb into the back of the truck without assistance.
“I could use the exercise anyway,” Marianna added once she climbed into the seat opposite Alna.
“That sounds like a good idea, Alna,” Mom piped in, starting the truck. She said it in the voice parents used when they highly recommended something and likely wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I suppose we could schedule physical therapy for after school hours on some days.” Alna turned to face Marianna. “Perhaps some weekend sessions as well?” she suggested, making sure that Marianna was aware it was a suggestion. That she wasn’t obligated to give up her weekends for Alna.
Marianna, however, clearly liked this plan, as she was nodding her head with a certain sparkle in her eyes. “That sounds great, actually. Maybe only twice during weekdays, though. I still have homework.”
“Of course,” Alna agreed. “I would never ask you to abandon your obligations.”
Unless, of course, she had just had a breakthrough, and wanted to end a “case” right now, like over a month ago. Alna attempted to push these self-deprecating thoughts. Both she and Marianna had made their own decisions. The important thing now was that they were alive and recovering.
The entire drive lasted seventeen minutes and thirty-six seconds, give or take. Traffic had become slower, heeding to winter’s return to Starla. There would, without a doubt, be more accidents during the winter months. A perfect time to disguise murders as accidents, Alna observed with some black humor.
As Alna stepped out of the truck, she once again found her father hovering by her side. Giving him a wry look, Alna reached out and grasped Dad’s shoulder, allowing him to assist her up the stairs of their garage and into the house. After all she had put her parents through, Alna figured she owed it to them to give them some peace of mind.
Colton and Evan obviously heard the door open as the four entered the homey interior of the house. Two sets of feet could be heard running across the kitchen floor and Alna had mere seconds to brace herself before two hyper excited twins barreled into her. Alna let out an involuntary breath as the wind was knocked out of her.
“Alna!” Colton cried as she knelt down in front of them. Evan wrapped his arms around her neck. “I’m so happy you’re home.”
Behind the boys, Carrie Honeycutt appeared, still quite overweight for someone in her forties, with her round stomach and large arms. She must have been exercising more or eating better because she appeared to have lost a few pounds since Alna saw her last.
Ms. Honeycutt was a friend of both Dad and Mom’s, after meeting Mom at a book club. Their time in the club only lasted a few weeks, but the friendship between the two women had preserved until she met Dad as well.
“Alna,” Ms. Honeycutt addressed her with a sincere smile.
Alna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course she would pretend to like Alna after she’d been in a life-threatening situation. The two ladies had never liked each other, although they were civil; Alna polite and distant, while Ms. Honeycutt made the occasional effort to enjoy her company. It never seemed to work.
“It’s good to see you’re better.”
“Thank you,” Alna acknowledged, standing up. Evan continued to grip her waist, saying nothing as he buried his face in her stomach.
There was a beat of silence, and then Dad urged everyone toward the kitchen. They did so after removing their outdoor clothing. Alna herself shuffled along even more awkwardly than before, as Evan refused to release her even for a moment, despite his mother’s urging. Alna might have picked him up if her strength wasn’t depleted.
She hoped the separation anxiety Evan seemed to be experiencing would not be long-term. Alna loved her family, but sometimes she needed time away from people in general.
As Alna made her way to one of the six kitchen chairs, she heard Ms. Honeycutt introduce herself to Marianna and cast a glance over her shoulder. Ms. Honeycutt, from what Alna observed, lived by the philosophy that one could do whatever they pleased, as long as they were not harming anyone. However, Alna knew from personal experience that knowing about something and facing it directly could elicit two very different reactions from people.
Alna had nothing to worry about, she soon found out. As she sat down at the kitchen table, the brief snippets she picked up between Marianna and Ms. Honeycutt seemed to be polite and non-judgemental. Evan crawled into Alna’s lap––something he had not done in well over two years.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to pay you?” Mom asked after Marianna finished speaking with Ms. Honeycutt. Dad hovered by his wife, while Colton and Marianna chose seats at the kitchen table, Marianna sitting across from Alna and Colton beside her. “You’ve been so helpful.”
Ms. Honeycutt gave the other woman a sincere smile. She cast a quick, fond look at the twins, so fast someone could easily miss it. Clearly, looking after the twins was no difficult task for her. She had always liked them.
Alna’s observation was soon confirmed when Ms. Honeycutt said, “It was no trouble at all; I was happy to look after the boys.”
Alna turned away from the adults, tuning out of the conversation as she faced Marianna. The girl in question gave her a warm look and stretched her hand across the table. Alna took it with the hand that wasn’t keeping a careful hold on Evan.
“Well, Miss. Holt,” Marianna said in a low, conspiratorial whisper, her eyes dancing. “Looks like we did it.”
Alna felt the corners of her lips twitch up.
“Indeed we did, dear Whitlock.”